Read Online The Cole Trilogy: The Physician, Shaman, and Matters of Choice by Noah Gordon - Free Book Online Page A

toes in a snare, a fortnight ago. At first they healed nicely, then they festered.”
    Barber nodded. He shook meat from a silver bowl by the hound’s head and poured in the contents of two of his flasks. The dog watched with rheumy eyes and growled when he set down the bowl, but in a moment she started to lap up the specific.
    Barber took no chances; when the hound was listless, he tied her muzzle and lashed her feet so she couldn’t use her paws.
    The dog trembled and yipped when Barber cut. It smelled abominably, and there were maggots.
    “She will lose another toe.”
    “She mustn’t be crippled. Do it well,” the man said coldly.
    When it was done, Barber washed the blood from the paw with the rest of the medicinal, then bound it in a rag.
    “Payment, lord?” he suggested delicately.
    “You must wait for the Earl to return from his hunting, and ask him,” the knight said, and went away.
    They untied the dog gingerly, then took the instruments and returned to the wagon. Barber drove them away slowly, like a man with permission to leave.
    But when they were out of sight of the keep, he hawked and spat. “Perhaps the Earl would not return for days. By then, if the dog were well, perhaps he would pay, this saintly Earl. If the dog were dead or the Earl out of sorts with constipation, he might have us flayed. I shun lords and take my chances in small villages,” he said, and urged the horse away.
    Next morning, he was in better mood when they came to Chelmsford. But there already was an unguent seller set up to entertain there, a sleek man dressed in a gaudy orange tunic and with a mane of white hair.
    “Well met, Barber,” the man said easily.
    “Hullo, Wat. You still have the beast?”
    “No, he turned sickly and became too mean. I used him in a baiting.”
    “Pity you didn’t give him my Specific. It would have made him well.”
    They laughed together.
    “I have a new beast. Do you care to witness?”
    “Why not?” Barber said. He pulled the wagon up under a tree and allowed the horse to graze while the crowd gathered. Chelmsford was a large village and the audience was good. “Have you wrestled?” Barber asked Rob.
    He nodded. He loved to wrestle; wrestling was the everyday sport of working-class boys in London.
    Wat began his entertainment in the same manner as Barber, with juggling. His juggling was skillful, Rob thought. His storytelling couldn’t measure up to Barber’s and people laughed less frequently. But they loved the bear.
    The cage was in the shade, covered by a cloth. The crowd murmured when Wat removed the cover. Rob had seen an entertaining bear before. When he was six years old his father had taken him to see such a creature performing outside Swann’s Inn, and it had appeared enormous to him. When Wat led this muzzled bear onto the bank on a long chain, it seemed smaller. It was scarcely larger than a great dog, but it was very smart.
    “Bartram the Bear!” Wat announced.
    The bear lay down and pretended to be dead on command, he rolled a ball and fetched it, he climbed up and down a ladder, and while Wat played a flute he danced the popular clog step called the Carol, turning clumsily instead of twirling but so delighting the onlookers that they applauded the animal’s every move.
    “And now,” Wat said, “Bartram will wrestle all challengers. Anyone to throw him will be given a free pot of Wat’s Unguent, that most miraculous agent for the relief of human ills.”
    There was an amused stir but no one came forward.
    “Come, wrestlers,” Wat chided.
    Barber’s eyes twinkled. “Here is a lad who is not fear-struck,” he said loudly.
    To Rob’s amazement and great concern, he found himself propelled forward. Willing hands aided him onto the bank.
    “My boy against your beast, friend Wat,” Barber called.
    Wat nodded and they both laughed.
    Oh, Mam!
Rob thought numbly.
    It was truly a bear. It swayed on its hind legs and cocked its large, furry head at him. This was no