The Collapsing Tunnel - Chapter 5

 

5 – Mosek / Ashke – Healing in the Deep-deep

“Time to wake up, you old sleepy bear,” a warm, familiar voice says in Mishikwe.

Mosek opens his eyes. He’s still in the healer’s room. The mixture of golden lamp light and blue/green phosphor is something he’s getting used to.

“Are you here to wash me or feed me?” He asks with a smile.

“Time for you to wash yourself. Though you might be pleased to know that you still have some Protectors who volunteered to help you.”  Ashke says with a friendly grin.

“Female Protectors? I haven’t shared a bed in a while, and as much as I enjoy your company, someone younger and softer would be welcome.”

“I haven’t said you can do things like that yet, Mosek,” Mihkwa says from his other side. Mosek feels fingers on his back, softly examining the area.

“How does it look, honored Mihkwa?” he asks politely.

“The spider silk stitches are holding better than I thought.” The Binder-of-Flesh says.

“Spider silk? I thought you used the ‘Blood of Bruna’?” Mosek asks confusedly.

“I had, but we use the wire to fix what does not easily close. Silk finishes the healing that gold has begun. When the danger passed, I switched them out as you slept.” Softly, he continues checking the closure. “Beneath all that hair, your skin is smooth. I thought it would be tough like bark, but you, trusted traveler, continue to surprise me.”

Mosek understands what he means and simply nods.

“Mihkwa, how much longer shall I stay on these pillows?”

“That is why I wanted you awake. Let us have you roll over and sit up. You will feel pain, but I need to check the healing.”

Mosek nods and stiffly rolls over. There’s pain as the weight of his body presses on the wound, but he sits up, which relieves it.

“Lean forward and let me look.” The Binder says.

Mosek once again feels the fingers gently probing the area and checking the sutures.

“Nothing came loose and nothing separated. Ashke, hand me one of the new bandages. There are some Miskwa‑bishikaabe‑winiin. I need one of those.”

“Mihkwa, won’t that stick to my skin and rip things open?” Mosek asks.

He hears the Binder softly chuckle, “No. The honey in the bandage will prevent infection and aid in healing. I had to shave all the hair on your upper back, so it won’t pull out hairs either.”

“At least right now.” Ashke jokes.

After they apply and wrap the bandage, Mosek asks, “Can I stand?”

Mihkwa nods, “Yes, let us see if you can stand.”

He helps to steady him from one side as Ashke assists with the other. The stone floor of the cavern feels so hard compared to the pillows he has been lying on for so long. He takes a few gentle steps to get used to being upright again. He can move, but slowly. Trying to stretch, he stops as he feels pain where muscles are still trying to knit together.

He slowly walks to the wash basin against the cavern wall and dips a woven cloth into it.

“The bandage appears to be holding Mihkwa. I think we can move him to the main hall.”

The wet cloth feels good as he rubs it against his face. Seeing a small patch of the cultivated fungus known as ‘Bruna’s Hair’, he pinches off a tuft and rubs it into a lather, then washes his face. Soapy drops fall from his beard and mustache. Ashke holds out a woven towel. “You can do your face, but for a while, you might need help with other parts.”

A broad smile splits Mosek’s face, “Which female Protectors do you have lined up?”

“Did I say there were female volunteers? Your translation skills are fading, Old Bear. I lined up a number of strong, male Protectors who all want to feel the warmth of your fur.” Ashke jokes.

Mihkwa turns to leave.

“Honored Mihkwa. I need to give you something in exchange for what you have done. I know you won’t take payment, but I have items that will be useful to you. Can we go to my cart?”

“Yes, Ashke explained what you need to do and why. You are always a welcome member of our family, but I know your ways are different, too. Yes. Let’s go to your cart.”

They all slowly move to where the cart has been placed. As Mosek walks, Mihkwa watches carefully.

“Would a staff or stick help?” Ashke asks.

“Let him decide. If he feels unsteady, we can give him one.”

Mosek leans against the cart and takes a few slow, deep breaths. “The Hairy Old Bear is now just a Tired Old Bear.”

“You did well, my friend. I’ve seen many who were hurt less than you, cry like a babe to just sit up. Rest for a moment. I will set out your items.”

Mosek nods as Ashke takes the blanket from the center of the cart and lays it out. He then lays out the various metal trade goods and glassware. Finally, he lays out Mosek’s personal items, including a small purse of gold coins.

“Honored Mihkwa, please choose what items you want and will make use of.”

He points to the collapsible chair hanging on the cart, “Ashke, can you unfold that for me?”

His friend sets the stool by the blankets and then helps him sit down.

They watch as Mihkwa ignores all of the metal items but slowly picks up three glass jars with lids and latches. “Amazing. Like living crystal but smooth and clear.”

“Yes, we got those from The Weaving River School.”

Mihkwa lets out a small gasp of amazement, “From Ziibi‑Aashkibwe‑Gamik? They came so far.”

“If they please you, take them. I know you will use them well. Do you see anything else?”

Mihkwa sets the jars down on the blanket and looks at the small sewing kit and spool of dwarvish linen thread. “Mosek, you bind with this?”

“Yes, these are the items of my people. Very commonly found and easily used. If they give you pleasure, take them. I would be honored.”

Looking closely at the metal needles, he touches the tips, frowns, then sets them down, slowly shaking his head, “Dead metal, sharp but no life in it.” But he unspools a section of thread and pulls it. It holds under the tension of his pulls. “Not as strong as spider silk but finely made.”

“Yes, Mihkwa, we call it 'flax-drath. ' It comes from a plant the Hill people grow and harvest. I think the students of Two Forges told me your word for it is zhiibaa‑wiiyaab‑oonh.”

“You have a spool of river plant fibers? You are amazing, Old Bear.”

“If these please you, keep them. I know you will use them for the betterment of all.”

Mihkwa gathers up the jars and the spool of thread. He makes the old traditional trade sign for “an exchange is complete”.

Mosek smiles broadly and makes the same sign.

After he leaves, Ashke asks, “Are you strong enough to do more trading, or shall we try another time?”

Mosek slowly exhales. “I need to rest, but I have one more debt. Do you know who the Protectors are who pulled me from the stones?”

“Of course, why?”

“I remember hearing the sound of tools against rock and want to gift each one a dwarven-made steel tool, if they will accept them.”

“We will be honored. The tools you brought in the past have been used and shared. More would be well received. I will talk to them during the next meal.”

Mosek takes his slate and marks next to each jar: Khur-dathun – paid to honor a debt.