Sivve // pre-search
By the end of the month, Sivve was sure she had made medical history. If anyone else had managed to re break, re set, and heal two broken limbs in three sevendays they were probably long dead if their patient was anything like Koran. Despite the fact that Sivve was busy saving his life and career as a jockey, he had decided to make her life as miserable as he could.

"Sivve, I'm thirsty," Karon told her. "It's been half an hour since my last drink of water!"

Sivve was sprawled on an open cot with her canine, Sajag, laying across her feet. He replied with a low growl of annoyance which Sivve echoed in her own manner. "You can walk now, remember?"

"But my leg aches!" Karon persisted. "And I am very very thirsty! Is this how you treat important patients, by neglecting them their simple nessecities?"

"The only thing I've 'neglected' to give you is a dose of fellis strong enough to let that cut beneath your nose heal," Sivve snapped. "Get your own water!"

As a healer, she was supposed to be compassionate with even the most difficult patients. And so she had been with Koran while he needed someone to wait on him hand and foot. But now he was quite able to walk across the infirmary to the sink and get his own water, and Sivve would not be used as a drudge.

"If Terre was here-" Koran began his usual threat but was cut off by the booming voice of none other than the stable owner himself.

"What?" he roared happily. "What would happen if Terre was here, Koran?" Terre strode up to Koran's bedside. "How're those legs and arms of yours, jockey? Ready to get some runnerflesh back under 'em?"

"More than ready," Koran replied, casting a meaningful glance Sivve's way. Sivve glared back at him from where she was trying to shoo Sajag out the door.

"Well Sivve, is he really?" Terre asked. "That race is in a few days, you know. We gotta get him used to riding again before he can ride in the race."

"I've only been out a few sevendays, Terre," Koran reminded him indignantly. "I haven't forgotten how to ride."

"I'm sorry Terre, it looks like he won't be able to ride in this race," Sivve replied, ignoring Koran's remark about power-hungry women. "His arm and leg are just barely healed and will need some time before they are back to the level they need to be for him to ride his best."

Terre frowned. "Well he's just gonna have to ride as he is. I don't have anyone else I'd trust on this runner, they'd probably come back looking worse than Koran here did to begin with! Couldn't he just ride this race and then come back to you to be healed?"

Sivve shook her head. "The damage he would do to his muscles and bones in one race would be too damaging. He would never be the same, maybe even crippled for life."

"That's a risk we'll just have to take," Terre told her. "You won't be held responsible for any injuries, you've done a good, speedy job of fixing him up. That's all I ask of healers: fix 'em up enough so that they can ride. Koran's a durable fellow, he won't go down easy."

"It's not a risk you can take," Sivve insisted, a bit angry but trying to keep her tone level. "He will be crippled, if not killed, by another fall like that, or even just a bad shake. He needs to stay quiet for at least another two sevendays!"

"I don't think you understand me, Journeywoman," Terre said in a low voice. "I am not in the business of keeping men healthy, that's your deal. I'm out to win races. Now if I have to lose a couple of jockies in order to do that, that's life. Koran and all the other boys knew what they were getting into when the first started riding for me. If he can sit in the saddle, he's riding."

"Last I checked, I was the healer here, and Koran was my patient," Sivve reminded the stable owner in a steely voice. "I am entrusted with his care, and I will not allow him to do anything that could cause him harm. You might be in it for the winning, Terre, but for almost every race you win there's a young man who becomes a cripple. I won't let that happen to one more young man if I can help it, and I can."

"I gave you the job of fixing him up to ride, Sivve," Terre snarled, "not healing him. If you'd like to heal him, do that on your time, not mine. He is riding in that race, and he is leaving with me now. Come on, Koran."

Koran staggered to his feet, refusing with a disdainful sneer the crutches offered by Imsky.Terre nodded approvingly at the action. "See, he's strong enough to ride. I want you there at the race, Sivve, just to see how wonderfully your 'frail' patient does."

Sivve glared at Terre and Koran's retreating backs until they were gone and then sank down onto a cot. "I have to be there: he'll need someone to save him when he falls off his runner."

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