The Traitor's Daughter by Paula Brandon

Author:Paula Brandon
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780345531612
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2011-10-04T10:00:00+00:00

TEN

The maggots were exceptionally large, probably the largest she had ever seen; not that she had made a comparative study. They were mauve in color and startlingly visible within the dark cavity of the wound.

“Is it my imagination, or are those things glowing?” inquired Jianna.

“It isn’t your imagination. They do possess a measure of luminosity. I bred them for that, among other things. It makes them much easier to see,” Dr. Rione explained.

“You bred them? Yourself? Those slimy, repulsive little horrors?”

“Come, maidenlady. That’s rather harsh. Perhaps they aren’t the loveliest of creatures, but they are highly useful, and utility possesses its own beauty.”

“None that I can appreciate. To me they’re horrid, disgusting worms that eat corpses.”

“You do them an injustice. True, they are the gluttons of the graveyard, but they’re also the devoted drudges of the sickroom. You already know that a wound of the most trivial nature becomes deadly when a portion of the injured tissue dies, for the dead matter swiftly poisons the living, and the infection spreads throughout the body.”

Jianna nodded sagely. In fact, she had known none of this, but did not wish to appear ignorant before the doctor.

“The only remedy lies in the removal of the necrotic flesh,” Rione continued. “To this end the surgeon labors with his scalpel. But he is only human. His instrument is clumsy, his vision dull. He misses small quantities of dead matter, leaving them in place to renew the infection; else he excises too aggressively, needlessly deepening the wound. But these small creatures commit no such errors. They devour dead tissue down to the last particle but never touch living matter. Thus they cleanse the wound with a precision and thoroughness beyond the ability of any human physician. Now will you regard them with a kindlier eye?”

“Perhaps. From a safe distance.”

“Oh, you’ll be safe enough so long as the little fellows don’t mistake you for a corpse, which they’re unlikely to do—you are almost conspicuously vital. Now I want you to stand at my right with that bowl of maggots. The workers on site are sated; I’m sending in reinforcements.”

“How can you tell that they’re sated?”

“Their movements alter. And they exude a certain pensive melancholy.”

“I’ll wager that’s not all they exude. Here.” Jianna extended a moist earthenware bowl. A quick glance down at the squirming contents roused some distaste, but no terror or nausea. Her tolerance for such tasks was proving unexpectedly high. “Can you reach them?”

“He can’t do anything if he doesn’t stop chattering.” The wounded Ghost on the cot spoke up in a slow voice slurred with kalkriole. He was extremely young, probably no more than fifteen or sixteen, small and thin, very pale beneath a multitude of freckles. The maggot-crawling hole in his lower leg promised inevitable amputation; but Dr. Rione continued to battle infection long beyond the point at which most physicians would have called for the bone saw.

“Awake are you, young Broso?” Rione observed with a smile.

“Wide awake,” muttered Broso with patent untruth. His eyelids drooped.

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