The physician dropped the blanket and tapped the boy's shoulder.
"You hear that, Tamiya? The Khai's daughter says you'll be able to walk
again."
The boy's eyes fluttered open, and he managed a thin smile.
"You're correct, Eiah-cha. The tendon's injured, but not snapped. Ile
won't be able to walk for several weeks. The greatest danger now is that
the wound where the skin popped open may become septic. NVe'll have to
clean it out and bandage it. But first, perhaps we have a fresh patient?"
Liat found herself disconcerted to move from observer to observed so
quickly. The physician's smile was distant and professional as a butcher
selling lamb, but Eiah's grin was giddy. Liat took a pose that asked
forbearance.
"I didn't mean to intrude," she said. "It's only that my head has been
troubling me. It aches badly, and I was wondering whether. .
"Come, sit down, Liat-kya," Eiah cried, grabbing Liat's hand and pulling
her to a low wooden seat. "Loya-cha can fix anything."
"I can't fix everything," the physician said, his smile softening a
degree-he was speaking now not only to a patient, but a friend of his
eager student and a fellow adult. "But I may be able to ease the worst
of it. Tell me when I've touched the places that hurt the worst."
Gently, the man's fingers swept over Liat's face, her temples, touching
here and there as gently as a feather against her skin. He seemed
pleased and satisfied with her answers; then he took her pulse on both
wrists and considered her tongue and eyes.
"Yes, I believe I can be of service, Liat-cha. Eiah, you saw what I did?"
Eiah took a pose of agreement. It was strange to see a girl so young and
with such wealth and power look so attentive, to see her care so clearly
what a man who was merely an honored servant could teach her. Liat's
heart went out to the girl.
"Make your own measures, then," the man said. "I have a powder I'll mix
for the patient, and we can discuss what you think while we clean the
gravel out of our friend "lamiya."
Eiah's touch was harder, less assured. Where the physician had hardly
seemed present, Eiah gave the impression of grabbing for something even
when pressing with the tips of her fingers. It was an eagerness Liat
herself had felt once, many years ago.
"You seem to be doing very well here," Liat said, her voice gentle.
"I know," the girl said. "Loya-cha's very smart, and he said I could
keep coming here until Mama-kya or the Khai said different. Can I see
your tongue, please?"
Liat let the examination be repeated, then when it was finished said,
"You must be pleased to have found something you enjoy doing."
"It's all right," Eiah said. "I'd still rather be married, but this is
almost as good. And maybe Papa-kya can find someone to marry me who'll
let me take part in the physician's house. I'll probably be married to
one of the Khaiem, after all, and Mama-kya's running the whole city now.
Everyone says so.
"It may be different later, though," Liat said, trying to imagine a Khai
allowing his wife to take a tradesman's work as a hobby.