Chapter 25 Tech Othrusa
They advanced through the night of the fort towards the archaic hospital known as Tech Othrusa, guided by the light of Aveline’s torch, who was stepping with ever greater difficulty whilst leaning on Remi. Unwittingly, they had formed a march of sheer determination—Remi and Aveline leading the way, closely followed by Anemo, who carried Eithne in his arms.
"We are not far now!" Aveline said, looking over her shoulder at Anemo whilst leaning more and more heavily upon Remi’s arm. "Tech Othrusa is right there, do you see it?"
The girl raised her torch-bearing arm to point, but lost her balance completely and collapsed, slipping from Remi’s grasp. She did not faint, nor did she lose consciousness, but the torch fell from her hand, extinguishing instantly and plunging them into darkness for a few long moments.
"My body no longer obeys me, Remi! Do you think the true Morrígan is punishing us for the trick with the oak galls? Do you think the true Morrígan would have wanted Boo as a sacrifice?" the girl’s fever-weakened voice came from the blackness.
Remi swallowed hard before replying to Aveline; she wished she could swallow all her own fear, all her anxiety...
"Do not speak nonsense, Aveline! You are simply exhausted. You have placed an immense burden upon your frail shoulders. Come, just a few more steps! We shall manage somehow. We will guide ourselves by the light glimmering over there, where you pointed."
From the circular structure—visibly larger and taller than all the other roundhouses in the fort—the light began to grow and approach. Towards them, each carrying a torch in hand, came two women, neither young nor old, of imposing stature. One of them had olive skin and dark hair, silvered in places, woven into a thick herringbone braid. Her Hellenic features contrasted sharply with those of the second woman, who had much fairer skin and russet hair braided into a crown atop her head.
The two women bowed discreetly in greeting and took the girl’s weakened body into their care.
Remi continued to pace behind them, even though the cold now felt as if it were creeping up her spine like ivy. The sound of running water grew louder and closer.
"These women know what they are doing, Anemo. Let us be strong!"
"So, this is what it looks like," Anemo said, more to himself, admiring the house of the sick.
Out of the penumbra of the fort, Tech Othrusa welcomed them. A massive circular structure, it defied the standards of ordinary huts. It was raised upon heavy oak pillars directly above the stream that gushed from the depths of the Oweynagat cave. Its architecture was sacred, dictated by the Brehon laws. Four massive oak doors stood wide open, each one facing a cardinal point.
"This way!" the russet-haired woman said. "We shall place the girls side by side," she added, pointing towards a space behind a screen of woven reeds, located quite close to the giant central hearth. In the hearth, a fire blazed, and a cauldron boiled with herbs upon it. The air was by no means thick with suffocating smoke, as the thatched roof ended with an opening towards the sky.
"We need compresses and clean water!" Remi shouted in a raspy voice. "You do not intend to treat the girls solely with incantations... do you?"
The woman with Hellenic features smiled gently.
"I am Moira," she said. "I am not of this place by birth. Salt merchants found me when I was but a child, by the great, endless water that surrounds this land. But I know all the laws of this place; I know the wisdom of destiny."
"And I am Rowana, Row," the second woman added. "Beyond all the trials of fate, the jealousy, and the greed of men, we, the women of this land, possess a secret power, uniquely our own. You are right, my dear; we shall give them clean water and cool their bodies with cloths soaked in cold water and apple cider vinegar. Do you hear that?" she asked, raising a hand in the air with her index finger pointed towards her ear. "Beneath us, water flows. Perhaps the stream comes from Tír na nÓg... perhaps it does not. Its murmur is meant to soothe our sick, and the water is meant to cleanse."
Remi placed her palm in Anemo’s hand, and together they began to look around.
The space was wisely organised. Screens woven from wicker and sackcloth delimited the resting areas, shielding the sick from direct draughts. Along the round walls lay low, well-polished wooden bunks, arranged on either side of the stream, which was hidden from view in places by wide, sturdy oak footbridges.
Bundles of dried medicinal herbs hung from the rafters, and pine oil had been dripped onto the burning stone of the hearth.
"These people know far more than we would have expected, Anemo! Can you feel your lungs opening from the scent of the pine oil? Somehow, even in this era, they already know the bronchodilating effect of this oil."
"You are right, my dear! And despite all this paradoxical situation... downright bizarre as it is, I cannot help but think of my father and the pleasure with which he would have studied this world."
No sooner had Anemo finished his thought than Mistral and Arr appeared through the very door they had entered minutes before, followed by five other cats, every bit as athletic as Arr.
"We have come, ma chérie! These cats join us with the greatest pleasure and, if need be... we shall bring even more."
Remi wiped away a tear of emotion as she bent down low enough to look into the felines’ eyes.
"I am glad to have you by my side! Do you agree to bind ourselves together to these girls with a cord, to save them from the mystical fever that has consumed them?"
"We do, Cat Bán!"
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