The bright golden sun had reached its peak in a cloudless sky as Leonidas rode on his horse down a winding road along rolling pastures towards the Collen farm. A cool wind blowing from behind him gently brushed away the heat from above. His horse cantering calmly down the path, with him resting one hand on the pommel of his saddle while still holding onto the reins as the other hung loosely down by his side. An off-white tunic covered his athletic frame, while a dark brown leather vest fitted over his chest. A wide satchel hung over his left side, holding his packed medical supplies for this house call.

  It wasn’t long before he spotted the two-story farmhouse, rising above the horizon and the surrounding sea of wheat and rye. Seeing first the upper-level jutting out slightly over the lower one along the front of the home, with a window opened to the outside and the chimney exhaling a thin wisp of smoke from the top as it sat comfortably on the roof. The barn was a short walk away, circular with wattle and daub walls and peaked with a thatch roof. Near this was a chicken coop by the barn door and a small post and rail fence placed to keep the animals from wandering off into the wilds. A well was located between the two main buildings, with a bucket resting on the stone mouth. It was idyllic at first sight, as if it had been born from a storybook he read as a child.

  For a moment he thought of himself tilling a field, feeding chickens and geese, and chopping wood for the coming winter. Of setting up a wattle fence by a stretch of woods as the scent of the forest and fresh soil lifted his spirits. He saw himself sitting on several thick fur hides next to a roaring fire, feeling the warmth of the flames touch his skin as a woman with fair skin, decorated with intricate body markings running along her arms, legs and torso, with elegant red hair hanging past her shoulders walking over and handing Leonidas some wine before sitting next to him. Resting her head on his shoulder and he wrapping an arm over hers. The idea was tempting, exceptionally tempting, though only for a moment. He had learned a long time ago to keep himself from investing his hopes in such whimsical dreams. Before they were taken away, shattered beyond repair and leaving him only with pain, sorrow, and haunting isolation.

  Nearing the farmstead, he thought, I hope Moire doesn’t mind me getting here early. He saw a woman standing by the doorway, wringing her hands anxiously and looking back at the room behind her in quick rapid movements. Arriving to the final stretch to the farmhouse, Leonidas dismounted his horse and tying the reins to a fence rail, before walking up to the woman.

  He waved at her, giving her a pleasant smile. “Afternoon, Moire, I got here sooner than I originally thought,” he said to her.

  “Sooner is most welcomed,” she said to him, waving him inside. “Please come.”

  The soft scent of smoke from the cooking pit, roasted chicken meat hanging over the fire, and herbs touched his nose. “Whatever is for supper smells amazing.”

  “Thank you,” Moire replied, chuckling nervously, “I was working on our meal when I heard Siomon hurt himself, he is upstairs right now.”

  The two made their way to the upper level of the farmhouse, the wood creaking as their weight shifted the flooring beneath them. The ambient light filled the hallway with a warm glow, reminding Leonidas of his years in the Outlands. When he could take a moment to enjoy a good book, a goblet of ale or share a song with friends. He smiled at the brief memories before Moire opened the door and led him inside.

  Peering in, Leonidas saw a chair and a simple desk situated near the window, a small chest resting next to the bed, and a young boy lying on top of a wool sheet placed over the mattress. “Little pup?” Moire said to her son. “The doctor is here to see you.”

  The boy sat himself up, using his right leg to move his body while his left lay flat, almost limp, on the bed. Leonidas grabbed a chair nearby and pulled it over next to the child. As he sat, the doctor pulled down on the leather gloves tightly fitted onto his hands to make them snug. “Hey there, Master Siomon, I heard we had a bit of a tumble fighting squirrels, eh?”

  Siomon nodded his head. “I think I got on their bad side.”

  Leonidas chuckled. “I wouldn’t worry; they aren’t the type to hold grudges.” As he positioned himself to examine the leg, he looked back to Siomon. “Now, I’m going to need to use my fingers to possibly see what’s happening inside your foot. Is that all right?”

  The boy nodded quickly, gulping deeply.

  “This shouldn’t be too bad, though if you exhale, I will need to take the limb,” said Leonidas, as he moved Siomon’s left leg to a bent position. Siomon’s eyes widened as Leonidas laughed. “Just a little doctor humor,” he said, chuckling, patting the boy’s shoulder.

  Leonidas closed his eyes and began moving his fingers around just above the base of the ankle. Moving along the front of the ankle joint, Leonidas thought, All right, the anterior talofibular feels normal, no laxity or anything else. He moved to behind the joint. Oh, there we are, always with the calcaneofibular, you little rascal.

  Leonidas placed the leg down, nodding. “I think I found the issue. He’s got a bit of swelling on the outer ankle. Nothing to lose sleep over, but you will need to bury him in the backyard up to his neck next to the horses.”

  “What?” Siomon said, his head shooting up.

  “And I just cleaned the shovel, too,” Moire said in mocking disbelief.

  “But, in all seriousness, Siomon, give the foot a day or two to rest and you should be back on your feet,” said Leonidas, ruffling the boy’s hair.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  As he and Moire made their way to the front of the farmhouse, she said, “I can’t thank you enough for getting here so quickly.”

  Leonidas smiled, lifting the palm of his hand towards her.

  “It wasn’t an issue at all. I’m just glad it wasn’t anything dire.”

  “Would you like to stay and have something to eat?”

  “I’d love to, but I should probably get back to the clinic before I’m missed.”

  “We have a chicken roasting on the spit.”

  “Oh,” Leonidas said, rubbing his chin, “And you do make an outstanding rotisserie chicken.”

  Leonidas then felt a vibration in his satchel. Opening the flap, he saw a golden glow emanate and immediately threw his head back. “Oh no,” he said in a strained voice.

  “Is that bad?” Moire asked him.

  “It’s not great, but I do need to take this one,” he said apologetically.

  He stepped away from the house, pulling a golden stone out of the satchel and holding it close to his ear.

  “What is it?” he said sternly, though immediately his demeanor changed as a voice came from the stone and to his ear. “Wait, wait, wait, what? Slow down, what happened … Oh, for Ellia’s mercy, is anyone else hurt? … He has what sticking out? How many? … That many? And he’s still alive? Does he have any other injuries? … Oh, that’s not good. Is anyone else hurt? … Are they just as bad? ... well thank the gods for small favors. Where are you at? … All right, that's good, I’m not far away then. Just, just keep everyone where they are, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He turned to Moire, tapping his foot hard and clearing his throat. “I do apologize, but I need to go.”

  “Oh no, is everything all right?”

  “An acquaintance got herself into something, and they need a doctor immediately,” he said, mounting his horse. “I’ll try to be back for that meal, but I can’t make any promises.”

  “We’ll have a plate ready for you whenever you do get back,” said Moire.

  “You’re too kind,” said Leonidas before he ran to his horse, leaped onto the saddle, and had it start into a canter.

  Once away from the farm, his face turned from warm smiles to fear and panic. He urged his steed into a full gallop. He knew time was not on his side, and mere seconds would decide if some poor soul would enjoy the sight of a new dawn or not. This was something he had wished his sophists had warned him about when he was a young man learning the finer arts of healing. The sudden rush of dread and chaos as people on the brink of death begged and pleaded with him to save their lives or their friends and loved ones. Sometimes the gods were kind to see them through, other times – he tried not to think of that.

  Trees darted past him. Their limbs reaching out, as if to pull him down. He squatted high in the stirrups, trying to level his body to the ground as much as he could. His heels digging into the side of his horse. A few apples would make for a good apology, he thought to himself, as a cold sensation touched the back of his neck and he felt the specter of death chasing him. He turned as a figure, cloaked in a black hood and shroud now came racing after him. Without a face, their skin pale as bleached bones, floating above the ground and move towards him at great speed.

  Leonidas felt his breath quicken as he turned his attention forward. Sweat poured down his face, “Come on, damn it,” he cursed, “the forest has to end sometime!”

  Around one long bend, he saw the faint glow of light. Constant and true, and soon the opening to a wide rolling field began revealing itself. He felt a sliver of hope return to him as he turned and saw the figure slow its pursuit and come to a halt. Emerging out of the tree line and into the light, he saw the small pillars of smoke from chimneys and other miniscule buildings dotting the town.

  He turned back again and saw the figure lingering in the woods. Raising a hand with their palm out, in gracious acquiescence of defeat. Perhaps next time, he thought he heard within his head before the entity dissipated into the shadows. Leonidas looked forward to the town and focused his attention back to the task at hand.

  Still racing into town at a full gallop, he only began slowing his horse down and he saw a woman leaning against a pillar before the town’s inn, dressed in brigandine around her torso and legs. Her black hair was matted with sweat and grime, Leonidas let out a sigh of relief when he saw her. Then he recognized the blood all over her clothes, armor and face. Pain written on her face as she gripped her side and bent over. Leonidas stopped his horse in front of the building, quickly tied the horse to a hitching post, grabbed his satchel, and ran to the woman.

  “Hey Doc,” she said to him, a weak smile on her face.

  “Jeanne!” he called out. “What the hell happened? You look like shit.”

  “I feel worse,” she said, waving him to follow. “Come on in, the rest are inside.”

  Moving off the column, Jeanne winced in pain. Leonidas came over, “Here, let me help.”

  “I’m all right,” Jeanne insisted, trying to wave him off.

  “You’re about to fall over. Let. Me. Help.”

  “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth as he wrapped her arm around his shoulders and helped her through the eating area, up the stairs, and towards the back room down the upper hall. Turning into the farthest room on their left, Leonidas instantly gasped from a sight he had not seen since the carnage he saw during The Dominion War back in the Outlands. Three people were lying on the floor, all as bloodied and battered as Jeanne, save for a man lying on a bed with several crossbolts sticking out of his torso, much of his skin bruised and discolored and his eyes were red with blood.

  He saw a female elven archer breathing heavy and strained as another female sword singer was rested against the floor, completely unconscious. Another man, dressed in academic clothing all bloodied and torn in numerous spots, bruises covering his face, resting on his back, his hand over his eyes and breathing heavily. Standing next to him by the doorway was a Felidan, sporting the usual feline ears, nose and mouth along with salt and pepper colored fur now matted in blood and mud. “I take it you’re the doctor our mutual acquaintance spoke of?” he asked Leonidas.

  “That’s what they call me, yeah,” Leonidas replied, still processing the sheer extent of the scene.