A burly fellow in coarse working garb was examining the barrels as a mother inspects the skinned knees of her clumsy child. An abrasion on his forehead, and a lengthy scrape on his bare forearm, bled freely, but he paid these no mind as he gruffly directed bystanders to help him right the wagon and get his unwieldy cargo back into it.
Hearing a moan of agony, Alwyn looked around to find its source. Just beyond the barouche, a finely dressed man was sprawled upon the ground. Two liveried servants circled him, wringing their hands, while a third stood at the horses’ heads, trying to keep them easy.
At Alwyn’s approach, one of the footmen eyed his satchel, and sank to the ground, saying, “A doctor’s ‘ere already, m’lord. Won’t you let ‘im ‘elp you?”
The only response this elicited was another groan.
Alwyn knelt down, noting how the fellow cradled his right arm with his left.
“Might I assess your injury, sir?”
At the man’s jerky nod, Alwyn began to trace his fingertips over his shoulder and immediately felt the squarish presentation of a dislocated humeral head.
“Your arm’s come out of its socket,” he said. “Probably an easy fix, but your coat must come off before I can proceed.”
The man wheezed through gritted teeth, “Anything to make…this bloody pain stop…”
So, as carefully as if he were trying not to burst a soap bubble, Alwyn helped the fellow doff his thick woolen coat, and handed it to one of the footmen. Now, clad only in a thin silken shirt, the shoulder’s distortion was grossly apparent, its acromion jutting out like a craggy escarpment.
“Putting it right will hurt,” Alwyn warned.
“No worse than it…already does,” the man panted, his face a tormented snarl. “Go on.”
Telling the servants to step back, Alwyn beckoned Sliger forward.
“Reach in here,” he told him as the boy crouched down beside him, “and lightly knead his trapezius and deltoid whilst I manipulate the arm. Ready?”
Sliger nodded, situating his hands precisely.
Alwyn adjusted his own grip on the patient’s elbow and forearm. Then, applying a steady traction, he began to externally rotate the limb, ever so slowly.
Simultaneously, Sliger worked the man’s muscles, murmuring, “Breathe in slowly…deeply. Now exhale fully.”
The man’s eyes screwed shut, feral strains escaping his gaping mouth. His footmen were tense as lute strings and Alwynwondered if they might break and pummel him in defense of their master. But he continued on with delicate purpose until he felt the distinctive pop of the humeral head settling cleanly back into place.
The patient’s eyes flew open and all of his groaning ceased. His servants sighed. One even chuckled.
Carefully, Alwyn guided the man’s shoulder into every plane of motion, delighted at how smoothly it shifted from one to the other.
“How’s that?” he asked, releasing the arm.
Shrugging, gingerly at first, then with more vigour, the fellow said disbelievingly, “It’s just a little sore now. How can that be? From torture to relief in the blink of an eye!”
It’s just one of many anatomical miracles,Alwyn thought, but said only, “It may nag you for a few days, so treat it gently, but I perceive no real damage to the joint or muscles.”
With a curt nod, the restored man directed his footmen to help him up off the ground. As they draped his woolen coat around him, he leaned in to examine the scratches marring the length of his carriage.
“It’ll need more than a bit of varnish for that — the devil take it!” he snarled, rubbing at his shoulder. “I suppose I’ll have you drive home, Barker.”
Without a word of thanks to Alwyn or Sliger, he tolerated his servants’ fussing assistance as they got him back up into the landau. As it departed, Alwyn noticed a family crest was painted upon the carriage door, but no sense of panic seized him. He was still feeling the discernible click of the man’s shoulder slipping into place.
I know how to mend people,he thought, flexing his hands, studying them with quiet appreciation.
Hearing a throaty chortle at his side, he looked up and saw that Sliger’s face could barely fit the smile that stretched across it.
“Phlegm and bile! That was fun!”
He, too, knows this joy!Alwyn regarded his friend thoughtfully.In just a few years, England will have another fine doctor.
