Chapter 407: Chapter 389: Theodora and the Hospital
As the carriage kept bumping back and forth, Harbin sat somewhat awkwardly at the back of the covered wagon, leaning against the bumpy dirt road that was swiftly retreating behind them.
After his little pony got sick, Harbin had to borrow a horse from the nearby Hundred Households District.
But unfortunately, even their smallest horse or donkey was difficult for Harbin to ride.
Fortunately, there was a group of travelers from the North District who happened to be going to Joan of Arc Castle.
At the request of the Hundred Households Captain, the travelers reluctantly agreed to take Harbin with them.
As for the little pony, it would have to be temporarily fostered at the home of the Hundred Households Captain, until Harbin brought a vet to take it away in a couple of days.
Looking around inside the carriage, including the driver up front, there were five people, among whom four travelers were especially tall.
The traveler surrounded in the middle, however, was quite small, only slightly taller than Harbin.
Almost all of them were dressed in hooded black robes, but they were made of fine linen, so they were quite breathable and cool.
From their special attire, Harbin basically assumed they were at least middle-class citizens.
"Are you North people?" Harbin took the lead in speaking, seemingly to break the awkward atmosphere, and sidely asked.
The group remained silent for about three or four seconds without answering.
However, Harbin’s expression did not change at all, as if he would maintain his smiling and inquisitive posture even if they did not answer.
One tall man spoke with a heavy Norn accent, "We are Norn people. Mangde County and North County are at war, closing off our way home, so we came to the Thousand River Valley."
This Norn man’s language of Leia was not very good, and his grammar was awkward.
However, Harbin, being naturally friendly, immediately switched to Norn, "What are you doing back here? Even if Mangde County and North County are at war, you should stay there, not run to Langsande County."
Hearing Harbin’s familiar accent, the Norn people in the carriage visibly relaxed.
After all, although dwarves and Norn people had a love-hate relationship, they trusted in each other’s virtues, like the dwarf’s stubborn honesty and the Norn’s brutal simplicity and sincerity.
"Our companion got sick, and we’re heading to Kasha County for treatment." The Norn man removed his hood, revealing a crescent-shaped mustache. His red-brown hair flowed over his shoulders.
Harbin immediately focused his attention on the small person, noticing from the curled-up posture and special figure that this was likely a female companion.
"I have to tell you some bad news." Harbin raised his eyebrows and hesitantly turned his body, "Kasha County has declared support for the revolt in Rapids City and is currently under martial law..."
"What?"
"Is that accurate information?"
Harbin could clearly sense the driver’s whipping movement had softened, and even the few Norn men visibly tensed up.
"My name is Harbin, a member of the Salvation Army Government. You could consider me a member of the city hall. I am willing to be responsible for what I said."
If someone else had said this, they might have doubted it a bit, but since a dwarf said it, it had to be believed.
Ignoring Harbin, they started discussing in deeper accents, oblivious to Harbin nearby.
"What do we do now?"
"What’s going on in the Thousand River Valley? We can’t even find a monk for treatment."
"Is there a black market nearby?"
Harbin coughed once, and in their surprised eyes, spoke with a similar thick Iron Sword Territory accent, "Folks, the black market in Langsande County has been completely cleared."
"Cleared the black market?" A younger Norn youth removed his hood, "Are you kidding, dwarf?"
"I dare swear on my father’s name, Brock, that the black market in Langsande County has indeed been cleared," Harbin said earnestly.
The faces of the Norn people changed, for swearing in a father’s name was a serious vow for dwarves, not made lightly.
So has the black market in Langsande County truly been cleared?
"After saying so much, you must have a plan."
A weak female voice arose. Surrounded by four burly men, the small silhouette took off her hood, revealing a pale, freckled face, "Sir, why don’t you tell us?"
"Langsande County has not eradicated all the black market witch doctors..." Harbin smirked.
"Are you messing with us, dwarf?" The young Norn’s face immediately darkened.
"Won’t you let me finish?" Harbin said slowly. "The process is a bit complicated. You could understand it as—the black market being legalized.
Now in Langsande County pharmacies, as long as an alchemical potion has the baptismal mark, it can be sold legally.
The baptismal mark means His Holiness the Pope has blessed it, cleansing it of sin, and believers can drink it without being condemned by the Saint Master and Holy Father.
So, if you indeed need healing, I can take you to a place as a token of gratitude for giving me a ride."
The black market? Legalized? The black market can be legalized?
Isn’t that the market of the Miseria’s arch-enemy, the Secret Faction?
The young Norn people exchanged bewildered looks. This sort of thing usually happened only in the empire’s borderlands, and often it was merely a verbal legalization, not an actual one.
Isn’t your Salvation Army an outcast of the Miseria Teachings? Isn’t this kind of heresy too extreme?
This seems outlandishly heretical even among heresies.
Seeing their silence, Harbin shrugged, "It’s not far from here. I can take you over there right now if you are willing to trust me."
"What should we do, my lady?"
After a brief silence, the petite woman clutched her stomach, "Better a live chance than a dead certainty. Harbin, we’ll take your lead."
"My honor, gracious lady." Harbin, seemingly having discerned something, smiled cunningly, "Might I know your beautiful name?"
"I am Theodora," replied the petite woman concisely.
"If you dare deceive us, we promise you’ll incur the eternal ire of the Golden Gate Castle Clan and Great Monarch Papani." The arrogant young Norn threatened softly.
"Bonato!" The petite woman admonished with a stern note, and then nodded politely to Harbin, "Mr. Harbin, please lead the way."
......
"Well, due to so many patients and too few internal medicine doctors, the hospital is quite busy." Harbin handed a paper to Theodora, "You just need to watch the hospital clock tomorrow and arrive on time."
Frankly, in this enormous hospital, there were only three reliable internal medicine witch doctors. Though there were unreliable ones, Harbin dared not book one for this noblewoman.
Theodora gazed at the white paper in her hand, eyes slightly dazed, "So soon?"
Even when looking for a witch doctor on the black market, there were signals through the pharmacists and mutual identity verification before the order was taken to ensure demon hunters were not involved.
Often, witch doctors do not take orders from outsiders, fearing demon hunters are mixed among them.
"Don’t worry. If you encounter any issues, come find me in Joan of Arc Castle. I live in the Colton District. If you ask around, anyone will know where I stay." Tipping his hat in farewell, Harbin smiled and bade the noble youths goodbye.
Having left a goodwill gesture, Harbin changed to another little pony near the hospital and trotted towards Joan of Arc Castle.
Fields were covered with burning crop residues for fertilization. During this rare farming downtime, most villagers drank cheap potato root wine, engaging in idle chat at the threshing floor.
More ambitious ones or those with less land at home headed to nearby towns to work as construction laborers.
Scenes like this were seldom seen before. Usually, this was tax collection time, with fields filled with stewards and knights collecting grain.
Harbin recalled walking down this road the year before last, hearing the cries of farmers and their spouses, and seeing the Public Register Farmers heaving bags of hard-earned grains.
Such land on which farmers could still laugh at this season was rarely seen across the Empire.
As Harbin was filled with sentiment, he noticed more and more people rushing around him.
Standing up in alert, he scanned his surroundings, clearly noticing more visibly than usual patrols of guards, Cheka, and Defensive Army soldiers.
Realizing something major had occurred, Harbin’s face darkened. He snapped his whip on the pony.
The little pony neighed, legs moving quickly as it headed into Joan of Arc Castle.