Surgeons shop

Rob inspected the lads head with interest and smiled, knowing the feeling well. This dueling now, that was even more exciting, and, he admitted to himself, a more fitting way to get a scar than some testing on ones own arm in youth.

"Ye win, lad?" he was genuinly interested, but not apt to talking in long sentances now he had started eating his much cooler meal. It would have needed more preening before it was served at home, but it was a nice change from the drudgery of rations, that was for sure.

(sorry to take so long, but Willoughby could not gather his thoughts. And I was trying to smack him over the head, to help... which didn't quite work!)

"Yes. I won. " He smiled and gazed thoughtfully at Sinclair. "... a fair one it was. Didn't last that long. A foolish dispute that it was... The man that had challenged me, had the honour though to hold to the rules.. and hadn't lost temper as he'd done to begin it." He shrugged lightly. "..here, " And slowly he lifted his shirt and at his side there was a cut as one done by a blade. "My second.. duel.. I had won.. though with luck." He murmured humbly:" And had been a daft man that I've let him harm me.. a moment I've not payed attention to both my footing and my arm."

He lowered the shirt then and tucked it under the belt of his breeches and he leaned back slightly observing the doctor.

"Other than that.. I've had just cuts and bruises not worthy of mention. " He flushed embarrassed and glanced at his bowl. "So.. any more.. questions?" He smiled kindly.

Rob eyed the man carefully, "If by questions ye mean food, nay, I served it all up, I'm afraid."
Hastily he emptied his own bowl, not wishing to be the cause for another duel, this time over something as silly as a second rate stew.

He settled back, sated and comfy in his rickity chair, not at all uncomfortable with the task of keeping an eager man off his ankle for two days. Surely there would be plenty of menial tasks he could do- though he hoped it didn't come down to drying a pile of dirt, something he'd been good at as a child.

"I'll admit ter not being great company, lad, especially after a meal...I havena often had ter be polite ter people in the setting, ye see." He fingered his shirt suff absently, "Normally I'll read, or go over me kit. unless I'm with t'bairns, of course...then I'll tell 'em stories, or whatever they wish."
He was silent for a little while, scanning for something of more substance to say. "And, of course, there was always the chance I'd be rescued from a polite night of playing host ter work." He smiled at the lad opposite him, and stacked the few dishes in the billy for washing- something else to keep him occupied tomorrow.

"..Don't have me yet complaining." He replied and knew that the only thing he was complaining about was his leg and the fact that he was condemned to be bedridden till it was well. He tried again, with a softer tone, and hoped that perhaps the surgeon had changed his mind, perhaps even to allow him more than just a hop to the back of the wagon.

"Sir..,tomorrow I may walk again... correct?" He looked as if they had agreed on it, and then no more.

Rob turned sharply. "What say, lad, that ye walk when I let ye, and not mention it again, aye?"
He rummuged in his bag of odds and ends, and sat back down holding a peice of wood and a whittling knife, "Lad.."he began again, more gently, "Ye've done yerself damage, and ye want ter be able ter walk again fer years after this, ay? Ye mun stay off that ankle for a while yet- though I've hopes of ye being able ter hobble round again day after termorrer."

He leaned accross the table, intent, "Ye drop that bone, and start worriting bout something else, now."

A few moments passed, during which he scraped a single shaving off the top end of the wood, then added, archly, "or don't ye trust me?"

"..I do trust you sir. I certainly do. You wouldn't be the surgeon, should your skill not be there.." Well there were some, that could not be called proper surgeons, but it wasn't the case at present, and he really did not to bring that up. "..It's.. you know the nature of you.. do you not. We hope and we are as untame as the young mare that I ride. Always wishing to be out there.. and not to be seated a whole day and know not what to do." He wondered if he would regret saying that, the last piece of his sentance that is.

The man could well think up so many things for him to do, that he'd beg that there be some rest in between. Could he not?

"..I do trust you to know best. I do." And his ankle might've had holes in it, if looks could make it so. The darned thing, that did nothing but cause trouble. " Pardon my imperitence.. and my persistance. "He flushed and looked at Sinclair, slightly worried about that whittling knife in his hand.

Rob was intent on his newest carving now- a small flute or somesuch he could weather nicely and then give to some bairn as thanks...though he knew not what for yet. he looked up though, and eye the lad speculativly, "I ken yer persistance well, lad, but ye must learn ter curb it, ay? After all, what if ye have ter stay here fer days on end, with naught but a grouchy old surgeon fer company?"
At the alarm in the lads eyes, he hastened to add, "Not that ye'll have ter this time, but the thought's still there, ay?"

Gently he blew a single shaving off the soon to be mouthpeice, and added with a grin, "If ye keep complaining about nothing ter do I'll keep ye busy till ye wish ye'd never mentioned it."
he knew plenty of ways to keep someone bedridden, some particulalry arduous, so you just wanted to take a break- which was impossible with a surgeon standing over you every ten minutes, checking.

"I aren't complaining." He scowled ,and was darn glad that the surgeon was just saying it, and not meaning to keep him in on weeks without end. He might've gone and hopped away himself, even if there was a knife wielding man after his hide. Which might've ended up looking like a fair bit of entertainment to the rest of the army even if the Hussar would pray that he'd run free from the danger.

"I'm jus' saying.." Perhaps it was best that he would not be saying anything at all. His scowl deepened and he looked to Sinclair, for that bit of a moment like a child fuming about having to go to sleep early, just when he was having so much fun time playing.

"'tis a wagon...'on t' march sir. ..You'll be away certainly, fer long.. unless needed."

Rob raised one eyebrow meanigfully, "are ye suggesting ye'll not be listening ter yer doctors orders, lad?" He glanced at the papers still on the table, "and ye never know, ye may be seeing more of me than ye'll like, if this fool sgt of yourn doesn't look after his arm properly."

Carefully he investigated the possibility of drilling into the wood tonight with a knife, and decided that he probably did have a bit somewhere which would do just as good a job, so got up to find it.

"And mebbe I'll set ye task that I'll devise so's I ken immediatly when ye stop. Think of that?" he carefully lined up the tool and dug in deeply, "I could make ye learn ter play this, if yer not carefull- and it won't be t'most tuneful thing, either."

"Sir.. no ..sir." He looked uncertain at the surgeon. He did not worry about seeing the man, should it have been that there was time to converse. Ofcourse if he had thought to be scolded for not staying in the wagon he might've reconsidered that thought. He looked at the piece of wood that the other was working on and he'd blinked at the later suggestion.

".. A task ye'd devise so that you would know right then, when I stop?.. I've doubt there's one such sir. If you are not present in the same room, that is. Of course." He shook his head and hadn't thought of the flute he was making.

Rob curved his lip in a semblance of a cunning grin, "Well, lad. Shall we make it that ye'll not find out what it is?"
Abruptly, he looked round himself, thinking of changing the subject. It seemed whenever he did they were back to saying the same things though, one wheedling to get out of enfored rest, the other unmoving. he wasn't sure there were any other ways of saying 'I'm not changin my mind' and he didn't feel like repeating himself.

"How'd ye spend yer time otherwise, lad, were ye not here? would ye be in bed, now?" He wasn't entirely sure what the time was, but it was certainly getting darker, though a couple of poor quality candles, all he needed at the moment, were light enough to work by for drilling a straight line.

"I'd be more interested to know, and see if the challenge exists." He smirked back and then settled himself more comfortably in his seat, and he shrugged his shoulders to the question." I'd have gone to see to my horse. Make sure she was well and ready for sleep. Not a trait you might find frequent with us.." The British atleast. " And then once I was sure she was right as day, and I was fed, as I am now.. I'd have gone and rested.. or else.. had hoped to read. "He hesitated a moment. "But since I haven't the books to do so.. I'd say yes to the first."

If his leg had been well, he could've gone and .. well perhaps he couldn't have right searched for his former saddle. With the French about and dangerous, it would've been suicidal even if desired.

Rob smiled genially, "We'll keep it as a surprise, lad- an unpleasant one, say."

he held the wood up to his eye, looking down it. Yes, that was straight enough. He blew through it. An interesting note... he again rummaged and found the flute he'd brought from home, bought by Hamish's wife when he was staying with them. Good quality and tuned. He considered the notes and decided to shave a little wood off the end of his hand made one.

"Yer care fer Bella is to be commended. i'd offer ye a book, but if ye'll excuse me, ye can save up and read it tomorrer, when the light is better." he wasn't in the habit of breaking out new candles on a whim, and had no wish to add eyestrain to the list of problem he was treating. "Mayhap ye could tell me about the last book ye read, or a story? Twould pass the time, and be almost the same as reading."

A surprise and an unpleasant one made the youth worry. The doctor was sure a witty man and had enough up his sleeve to have a Hussar spend the rest of the evening and night trying to figure out what he had thought ready for him. And he would probably even do so and find scenarios that were less pleasant than the first.

He smiled and shook his head lightly at the mention of his mare. The lovely lady stood outside now. She needed a bit more of tending later. But that could wait. "Certainly." His reply wasn't long, for he'd not really had much choice even if he wished for different. Instead he reached his hand to his temple and rubbed it lightly then loosened to cross to the bridge of his nose and there squeezed lightly before dropping away alltogether.

"The last book I was reading before I had lost it...Well, you might laugh at me now and think me an odd fellow, but the last had been a children's book." He smiled and held his hand up to ask be permitted to explain:" I've found one old thing, while we were in Lisbon. Along with what I had hoped would aid me in learning the language." He shrugged his shoulders lightly. "In their language aye." He shrugged.

"Ye're one of them men who picks up languages in a few days, are ye?" rob had always wished to be able to do so, but had instead had to struggle with some things for weeks, picking up other words in minutes. "of course, the trick would be speaking it, nur? Was it a good book?"

he was in no way judging, in fact, he was mildly impressed. Though of course, there were always compensations for being able to speak the local language...some monetary, he was sure.

"Not in a few days.. no. But I'm trying to learn. It is a fair interesting thing... and just to compare, there are similarities among languages which do aid you in learning one faster if you'd have known another." He felt his cheeks burn and was just as embarrassed.

"It was a fine book, though I've managed to come only through two of the stories before it was lost. I wonder if it's still out there.. or if someone had found it.. and is now wondering what on earth would a British Hussar's saddle have to do with a Portuguese's children's book." He could not help but chuckle at the thought of stratled faces, looking for something worth selling and stumbling across that. It did bring a sourer face to him though, when he thought of whom the saddle belonged to and he'd scolded himself for finding the first ever amusing.

"..I've not yet attempted to speak.... though I have tried to listen to the local tongue...and see if I could pick more than the ends and beginnings of the words. Do you speak any other tongue but.. our own?"

Rob shrugged, "Latin, bit of French, bit of German, bit of Portugese- it's similar ter French enough, and Spanish- I know some curses in other languages, Gaelic and so on...but much of that was lost when I had ter learn Latin. I spent so long over that that I never got ter talk ter the man who had such an array of words." He grinned, "I'm guessing me ma woulda thought that a good thing, though."

Carefully he tapped on the end of his wood, trying out the note again. "they say music's a language too...so I guess I could add that and docterin ter the list." he grinned, "Ye can see I'm getting desperate now, ay?"

"You have yourself a fair knowledge sir, need not to feel desperate at all." He chuckled about the music though :" Might think music is the mos' complicated language of all. One cannot speak in the tongue but make it.. and yet if the one playing does right, it can tell more to a man than any word would. And to each person it can say.. a rather different tale too." He shrugged his shoulders lightly and then smiled.

"What instruments do you play, and.. what of them you make?" He indicated the flute, to support the second part of his question.

"Well, I wouldna say I make instruments, lad...noisemakers, mebbe. Though they'll knock out a tune, sometimes." He touched the present of a flute at his elbow, "Naturally, I play this. I can fiddle a bit, blow a bit, bang a bit." he looked down, "Twas always fun ter go ter a dance and get ter play for them all, or ter get ter process in full dress kit up with another piper, fer important ocassions. Alan, he was more of a fanfare player, and the lad I told ye about- the one with the dog- he could play the drums like ye wouldna beleive. I never could handle the tricky manouvres, ye ken."

He poked at the halfway point, idly working a hole there for a young finger, small and easy to cover squarely. "Me nephews reckon I can make them whatever they want, but then one of them wants a drum, and another this flute thing. I made the mistake of assembling some pan pipes one week I was there- a set fer each." He looked a little embarrased. It had been a while since he'd shared his music, something he'd always been fond of, though neither parent had been that enthusiastic of him trying to learn. Having heard his nephews though, he couldn't blame them.

"Would you be interested in showing some time. A tune or so , mind.. not at this hour, else we might both be sent to the French, fiddle stuck places we'd neither want to know." He chuckled softly.".. Them sleep, might be fair important to the lads. .after all." And as it was getting darker, he reckoned more and more would wish silence and not a fiddle of blow, as pleasant as the tune may be.

He looked at the flute and then motioned to it again, before speaking:" Anyone in particular that you are making this for?.. Or is it but your past time to.. have time run faster?"

"Oh, I'll play fer ye, lad- yer first jig on yer new ankle, shall we say?"
he looked down at the shaping whistle, "I thought ter make them ter pass the time, but a well traveled one had better tune, and no doubt there'll be more bairns when I get back, all clamouring." his eyes lit up at the idea of his safe return, not that he was homesick, but more that he missed the ease with which their family fit together. "If I give them all one of these, then they'll go and clamour somewhere else, fer a while, and come back later with a whole tune figured. Or at least, they did when I gave them the pipes." Musicality was something he cherished in them, and not only for slefish reasons. He's always figured that if all else failed, at least they'd have somethign to fall back onto.

"That's a done deal then." He grinned. First jig on his new ankle made something to look forward to! And made sure that the surgeon did not intend in keeping him bedridden for the purposes unknown. The last thought more out of an amusement than truly thinking the surgeon would be the kind of man.

"If you make plenty enough, you may earn some coins selling them while we pass in town. Or exchanging for whatnot you would need and desire." He looked to the one that was in the make and marveled at it, for there was skill needed to make something that would do more but resemble a flute.

"You'll have the young ones delighted for sure. Though I've worry about the parents loving you for the more." He murmured amused. Not after the first few tunes, unless they were able enough to produce more than a thin painful sound of whiiiiiiiii.

"Aye, I've been known ter make a little out of selling these." Rob admitted, "Though I think the bairns skill, combined with the lectures they get about not using these except at certain times keeps the music pleasant enough, though I wouldna say it's concert standard, yet." His fond uncle's ear wasn't as forgiving as their parents, and he'd been known to cringe later, though he only ever followed their worst performances with an offer of a lesson or two in their newest aquirements.

"Last time I sold a few there were all sorts after them. It made me think how we are so different. They hadna made music fer months, one bairn said." Though she hadn't been called a bairn, and they'd found it quite funny when, in broken French he'd tried to explain the word.

"Music knows a language that all men understand.. you need not speak spanish and yet you shall know music they play, for what it is, need not speak French and still yours and theirs,.. will be understood, nor be it other countries that we think of.." He smiled and then nodded.

"...'s a tongue for all ages, all kinds, professions and minds." A slight shrug of his shoulders to that, and he was turning to observe the flap and behind it, his now dearest mare, Bella.

"Even animals.. I gather.. understand that. But not your use of bairn.." He chuckled softly."..I'll hope not to see you leading children astray, playing that flute."

Rob chuckled, "Och, I'll not do such a thing, dinna fear. Some animals do, thats fer sure."
He followed the lads gaze, "We'll have ter do soemthing about her in't morning, lad. She may be able ter follow us fer a few days, but I dinna think she'll be getting the top treatment ye'll be giving her, not even if yer on a crutch." he didn't like abondoning animals, and he had no problem with throwing a bucket of water her way everynow and then, but he had to make it clear that it wouldn't be the best treatment, either due to time or knowledge constraints.

"THere's a new song I heard just last week, one of the reasons I'm making this- I reackon it'll make the sound I need better." and if that wasn't a good enough reason to spend his evening pottering over a log of wood, then what was?