“Two in, Doctor. One elderly lady with a confirmed redline, one preadolescent girl – eleven or twelve – with no marker.”

I nod, looking up from the manuscript I had been trying to decipher in the fading autumn light.

“Best to be sure, Brother Simon, especially if they’re from an outlying homestead, and I don’t recognise either of them. I’ll work up on them both, and if you can let the kitchen know veg-only for both of them til the girl is in a state she can oathswear or not?”

He nods, his quick smile illuminating his face.

“I’ll run down and let them know before the bell for Vespers. It just looks like exposure – hopefully the poor dear will be in a state for supper broth.”

I smile back as he goes, donning my red apron and gloves. The red border on my overtunic is starting to come loose and I make a mental note to mention to the Launderer when I put it by to wash.

The electric light flickers a little when I put it on, then holds steady. Good the generator is working.

I turn to the old lady first, muttering the Sanguinus softly as I draw the blood pressure cuff down over her hand.

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