44 Stirring

The other Apprentices hate stirring the pot, but I love it.  It’s the perfect opportunity for a bit of people watching.  And now that Amala’s had her baby and we’re one down, there are even more opportunities! 

Of course, the baby was a great scandal.  Apprentices are supposed to devote themselves to the Craft and nothing else.  Even family relationships are only kept to what duty demands and friendships are actively discouraged, so for an Apprentice to get pregnant is almost unheard of.  Samath was very calm about the whole thing, though.  She never even asked who the father was, and she let Amala continue with her studies right up until the baby was born.  When she found out the baby was a girl, she gave a strange sort of smile.  anyway, Amala is back at her mother's fire now, but she gives me a little wave whenever she looks over, and even walks past Samath's fire on her way in or out of the cave so I can get a look at the baby.

I don’t expect I'll ever have my own baby, even though it’s not unknown for a fully-fledged Healer to have children; I wish to truly dedicate myself to the Craft and not be distracted.  I saw how Samath struggled to raise her son whilst also taking care of the Clan.  Even when he was old enough to understand why, he resented us for the times she put someone else first.  The day he left to join the Hunters’ Camp was one of relief for everyone. 

Taking supplies to the Hunters’ Camp is a job most of the Apprentices do enjoy.  I don’t deny that they’re a handsome bunch, but there’s too much posturing and posing, flexing muscles and talking about their exploits in loud voices.  Who do they think they’re impressing?  Whenever it’s my turn, I just take the gift straight to the Headman, bow to show respect (I enjoy the meat they bring as much as anyone!), and leave as quickly as possible. 

Now I think about it, Amala used to spend half the day taking supplies there...  Could her baby’s father be a Hunter?  Everyone would know if it was one of the men from the Cave, and the more I think about it the more unlikely that seems.  Most of the men here are too old for one thing, retired Hunters who live at their sisters’ or daughters’ fires regaling the children with tales of their youth.  The others are the Shaman and his Apprentices, poets and painters who are even more austere in their habits than us.   

I wonder it’s never occurred to me before, or that I've never heard anyone else suggest it.  Of course, there was gossip at the time but Shamath forbade us from discussing it, even amongst ourselves – and who else would we talk to?  We are separate, set apart, by tradition and by our own habits. 

My arm is aching and I stop stirring for a moment to stretch.  Some potions require an exact number of turns of the ladle, or a certain consistency, and you can’t stop even for a moment.  Today, though, I’m making a batch of Health Tonic – lots of green leaves and sharp-tasting berries – to take us through the winter and spring when fruit is scarce.  It’s the first thing we learn how to make and we all get plenty of practice over the five years we’re apprenticed. 

Today, the younger Apprentices are out gathering ingredients for the standard recipe, but when we get to our third year, Shamath allows us to create our own variations.  This is the first batch of my very own Health Tonic – mostly blackberries because I found a huge thicket of them, and because they’ll hide the taste of the spinach I put in.  Shamath sets great store by spinach, so now I do as well.  I also found a bees nest and managed to get a good chunk of the comb without getting stung too much.  I set it over a bowl to drain out as much of the honey as possible and I'll add that at the end. 

But first, I need to keep on stirring this pot...