The dining hall, which also served as his bedroom, was now also a clinic and for the first time, Sundance wondered where Corduroy would be staying. She could—theoretically—fit through the doors to the hovels, but it was a tight fit. He suspected that the dining hall was about to also become a bunkhouse of sorts, a place of many purposes. All awkward living arrangements aside, this was the cost of growth.
Corduroy had examined him, poking and prodding at his many lumps, bumps, scrapes, scratches, and contusions. Worst of all, he had not been given any candy, just shoved aside so that his new nurse could get down to business. In the beginning, Hollyhock was a bit too terrified, and had politely requested that he hold her hoof, so he had. That was a bit weird, a bit out of place, but such was the cost of being a baron.
Everything was fine, right up until the urine test, and then things were clearly wrong; she could hardly go, did so with great strain, and what came out was a foul-smelling cloudy mess of brown-orange liquid. Without saying a word, Cucumber had gone to open a window, but his face never changed expressions. Then, much to Sundance’s surprise, Corduroy began sniffing the urine sample in very much the same way that fancy Canterlot ponies sniffed glasses of wine.
Now, Hollyhock was sweaty from the strain of having to go on demand, her breathing was a bit laboured, and her sides heaved with visible discomfort. Earwig had taken over the duties of holding the distressed mare’s hoof, and Sundance, for the lack of anything better to do, began to pace.
Little did he know that his grandmare also paced when faced with distressed peasants.
This was new territory, the great undiscovered place. By pushing past his own narrow views, Sundance’s horizons had been greatly expanded, and for a pegasus, horizons were everything. He had a whole new world to explore now and he found he greatly enjoyed the interactions between his peasants and Corduroy.
It was yet another trait he shared with his grandmare.
“Can I ask a question?” Hollyhock asked, almost panting out each word.
“You just did,” replied Corduroy without skipping a beat.
“I don’t want to offend.” The rotund, suffering mare huffed and puffed to manage her intense pain. “You have a dog nose… and you just sniffed my urine… look, I’m sorry, but I have to know, how are you dealing with the stench of this place?”
“Stench?” Ears pricking, jowls jiggling, Corduroy’s head tilted off to one side.
“Yeah, the stench. You know, The Stench. That horrendous smell. We’re living in Ye Olden Rotten Egglünd.”
“There’s a stench?” Corduroy’s ears quivered and her eyes—one pink, the other blue—focused on the suffering mare in her care. She sniffed, and after a moment, waved her paw. “I think I heard an umlaut. Did anydoggy else hear an umlaut? No? Must be a dog thing. Nevermind.” Then, after a moment she added, “Canterlot had a stench. This place is great.”
Hollyhock seemed to almost stop breathing, and her confusion was such that she now wore a blank expression. Whatever intelligence existed within her had just turned out the lights and clocked out for an extended lunch. Sundance, still pacing, wondered what an umlaut was while also fancying himself as the Mayor of Ye Olden Rotten Egglünd. That title certainly had an air of distinction.
“You get a candy.” While Hollyhock was still stupefied into a state of non-reaction, Corduroy pulled out a container, opened it, stabbed a red, square candy with her claw, and then jammed it into Hollyhock’s mouth before she had a chance to react.
This roused Hollyhock, who made a face and then said, “This candy tastes funny.”
“That’s because it’s medicine. I’m trying to improve the flavour a bit.” Reaching out, Corduroy patted Hollyhock on the head. “You have a severe urinary tract infection. Lots of swelling and inflammation is making it hard for you to pass water. The candy is good for fever, swelling, and inflammation. For the infection, I have pills.”
“Pills?”
“Yes, pills. I made them myself. You’ll be fine.”
“So I’m okay?”
“You are now.” Corduroy’s blunt statement had an unpleasant air of dire finality to it. “A few more days like this and you’d be in some real trouble. You and the foal.” She gestured around with her paw. “These are not sanitary conditions. We’ll need to work on that. This whole place needs to be sterilised.”
“But we clean.” Earwig verged on some kind of emotional outburst, but was holding herself back.
“Sweeping the dirt does not make it clean.” Corduroy shook her head from side to side. “Do you have communal baths?”
“What?” Earwig’s bluster vanished, only to be replaced by confusion.
“The kitchen is also the bath,” said Sundance, fearing how Corduroy might react.
Closing her eyes, the distressed diamond dog sighed, reached up with her paw, and rubbed her head. She growled—not an angry sound—and when she did so Cucumber too, sighed. Earwig seemed lost and whatever it was she might have thought about saying, she kept to herself. As for Sundance, he knew that changes had to be made, but he had no idea how to go about doing them.
“I can smell ear mites,” said Corduroy as she opened her eyes. “They cause stinky ears. This place… this place… I have my work cut out for me.”
“Ear mites?” Ears twitching, Cucumber repeated himself. “Ear mites?”
“Stinky ears, dark, sorta crumbly discharge, excess wax—ear mites.” Corduroy waved her paw in a circular motion.
“The kitchen is a cave full of boiling water hot springs.” Sundance’s head bobbed with every word spoken. “The runoff is collected in basins. Uh… um… now that I seem to have your attention, Corduroy, uh, er, wouldn’t the water be fine because it was boiled?”
Something was wrong, and Sundance knew a look of supreme patience when he saw one. Corduroy was wearing one right now. He squirmed beneath her gaze, and when she shook her head, he knew that he had just stepped in it. Try as he might, he could not find the fault in his reasoning, but when Corduroy opened her mouth, he knew that he was about to be schooled.
“The bath water isn’t boiling, is it? If it was, you’d all be scalded. What you’ve been doing is stewing in each other’s filth. Baths are not a good way to get clean to begin with, because you just sit in your own filth. But communal baths are even worse. That needs to stop. I’ll have to help you rig up a shower system, complete with sanitary drainage.” Exasperated, she covered her face with her paw and rubbed circles upon her nose.
“If the baths hafta stop, how do we get clean?” Earwig asked.
Pulling her paw away, Corduroy replied, “You’re not clean now.”
“But, hot water and soap—”
A bark of pure frustration silenced Earwig, and then Corduroy had a guilty, apologetic expression upon her canine face. She held up both paws in front of her, and then summoning up her gentle patience once more, she said, “Hot water and soap is not enough. All of you probably have stunning immune systems, I would guess, from a lifetime of exposure. But Hollyhock is not one of you. She hasn’t been sharing your germy soup for Princess Luna knows how long. And now she’s sick because she’s not getting clean. Good hygiene helps to prevent infections.”
“But—”
“Don’t say hot water and soap again, or else I’ll be forced to scrub you and show you what clean is. I’ll scrub your hide off. Trust me, I’ll find nooks and crannies you didn’t even know you had, and I will clean them. Thoroughly.” Corduroy’s stare turned cold, hard, and flinty. “I don’t tell you how to grow things or pull a plow, and you don’t tell me how to nurse. Got it?”
Thoroughly cowed, Earwig nodded while maintaining a submissive posture.
After drawing in a deep breath, Corduroy sighed out the words, “I have my work cut out for me.”
“Milord, a word if I may…”
“What’s that, Cucumber?”
“You made a fine choice, Milord. Though I was a bit worried, so I was.” Then, after a moment of thoughtful consideration, the old retainer added, “It’s about time to serve supper. I think I’ll go check on things while you finish up. Earwig, yer with me.”
“She threatened to scrub me, Cuke,” the disgruntled mare muttered while the wrinkly, knobby-kneed unicorn made his way to the door.
Smiling and doing nothing to hide it, Sundance watched them go. When the door closed behind him, he turned to look back at Hollyhock and Corduroy. They seemed to be getting along just fine, at least by his own estimation. Hoping he could slip out unnoticed, he backed his way towards the door, somewhat conflicted in his feelings. He had stayed with Hollyhock to make her feel safe and comfortable, but he no longer felt needed.
Since he no longer felt needed, his thoughts turned to a needy owl.
The Nurse is bossing around the Barron about hygiene. Sort of like Bones bossing around Kirk while in Sickbay.
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Dogs love bones. Bones is a great nickname for a dog.
9295040 Sawbones. Atebones.
I just started reading this one a couple days ago, but I'm certainly enjoying how everything is unfolding.
Where's Bones when you need him? He and Corduroy would have a great conversation, I would think!
This is great! I am certainly looking forward to how this new addition will change the Barony, as well as more awesome Owl action in the next chapter <3
An umlaut? That's something you make in a frying pan with eggs and some seasoning, then stuff with bacon and cheese and mushrooms isn't it? I could be wrong though...
well that's one way to threaten someone
Just from reading about the sanitary conditions i got itchy all over
It is time for Goslings Gringineers to show up :)
Well she isn;t saying that they are so filthy she is going to start planting crops on them.. Though from the sounds of it before she is done they might prefer that
9295038 Well thats because of naval tradition that a doctor can over rule a captain in matters of health
Well, considering how castles first worked, people did sleep in the Hall. Not that Sundace would be aware of that bit of history.
This is what I think of when it comes to grandma and some of her cleaning in the kitchen. "No one's died yet!" said grandma. I'm not joking. Personally, I think it's because everyone would be afraid of her reaction if they did die... To be fair, she is 97, so she might be onto a few things.
Corduroy is now one of my favorite characters in this story. I think she'll fit in well.
Yikes.
How have you been, kudz ? How life has been treating you ?
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ümläüts ïs älsö ä längüägë thïng.
...I could barely share a shower with my brothers growing up...a communal bath?
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Yep, I know, I’m making a really bad pun ;)
Wow ye could plant a field of chetties in those manky lugs XD
A communal bath?? Like roman baths or those bath houses like i hear they have in japan???
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The Romans were probably pretty gross, but with bath houses in Japan, you shower, suds and scrub before you actually get in the communal bath part.
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Then it is my very big pleasure to tell you, Roman baths where well drained and cleaned things. Baths where not for cleaning in the same sense that we do. The water in roman bath houses had flowing water, the rubbing olive oil and scrapes cleaned you. They where places of socialicing and relaxing. You had of course places where you rinced of the dirt, but the lounging pools and the hot and cold baths where more stimulating to relax and loosen up.
Japanease communal bath houses are for relaxing and socialicing only. The cleaning is as you pointed out where done before hand in showers or at least scrubbing before that with a bucket and cleaning cloth. For them the bath is purely for the social and relaxing aspects. Medieval european and middle eastern bathhouses where less sophisticated and more than not involved a private tub to soak and then afterwards scrub yourself clean. In no historical terms, that I have found, do bathing in a tub or pool clean... except in industrial ages when you bathed clothed, and that was it. The industrial age is pretty much where prudes reigned, even in privacy it was improper to bathes without a full coverign bathing suit, where the purpose is to get clean.