"
Besides the herbs he was dispensing, the verbal prescription which the
sage Physician had just uttered was known to stop bleeding, and the
anesthetic effect of mere words was already well-known to mothers the
world over in the eternal pooh-poohing of their childrens' many little
wounds of life.
The man from the caravan tried to grin and nod and bow his agonized
thanks all at the same time while moving respectfully backwards to go
and do as instructed. The other members of the caravan gathered close around him to
escort him carefully away. One held up a wine flask, making obvious his
intention to get his comrade drunk, which would afford obvious
immediate relief but no doubt add to his later miseries when he should
awaken with a biting hangover the next day.
Seizing the opportunity, Habrunt leaned conspiratorially close, and
when the Physician inclined his ear Habrunt whispered so low that none
could hear what was said.
As he listened, the Physician's expression became, by turns, first
shocked, then angry, and finally--resigned and infinitely saddened.
He turned his head once, to look critically at the two one-eyed boys
waiting on the sidelines. If he felt anything, it no longer showed on
his wise old face as he studied their identical physical maladies.
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