With narrowed eyes, you looked around the tent while men placed boxes and jars of medicine at the foot of the bed.

Clay bottles clinked. Wood creaked.

The smell of smoking candles was replaced by herbs and flowers. A few minutes passed during which the shadows danced across the white linen walls.

Only when the soldiers' footsteps had moved away did Khotun Kahn allow you to open the crates with a nod of his head. He sat down, sighing audibly and exhaled so deeply that his face turned red.

Lost in thought, you rummaged through the jars. At first glance, everything was there. The Mongols had not bothered to test which of the ointments and concoctions worked as medicine and which did not. Now everything you had made was on dry land, including the poisons and laxatives.

Carefully, you pulled out a small glass bottle from among the rest. A yellowish-brown liquid sloshed in it. To untrained eyes, it could have been tea, but the slightly bitter odour from the cork let you know that a few drops caused severe stomach cramps.

Your gaze jumped over your shoulder.

The general's eyes were firmly closed. He sat in his chair with his legs stretched out and waited to see what you would do next. He certainly wouldn't know what you gave him.

"I need to know what kind of complaints there are.", you finally said and let the small bottle disappear into one of the many pockets on your clothes.

Torn from his calm, he looked up. The brown of his eyes seemed black and spoilt.

"My knees are stiff.", he said and exhaled deeply.

"Walked much?"

"No."

"Ridden?"

"On the sea?", he snorted, both amused by the question and as a warning.

His patience was short and the pain only shortened it. Dumb questions weren't welcome so he urged you to think before you spoke.

Taking a deep breath, you thought for a moment before rummaging through the boxes and pulling out an ointment.

"Are there any places on your skin that are conspicuous?", when you turned to him, he frowned sceptically.

"Why should that matter?", he leant forward in his seat.

"Visible injuries can help identify the cause. Not entirely, but it helps. Black spots can indicate broken bones. A burning sensation under the skin can be connected to muscles."

Annoyed, he huffed, his nose curling.

"Too much talking, too little solutions to my pain."

You looked around.

"Is there tea?", you asked after a moment of silence.

He frowned, obviously already slightly irritated by all the questions he hadn't allowed you to ask. One corner of his mouth twitched.

"Tea helps to mask the bitterness of the medicine.", you explained.

One of his eyebrows raised.

"I can have some brought, but tea is not my preferred choice.", he rose heavily from his chair and stalked to the entrance of the tent.

Two shadows stood not far in front of it. Guards.

"Anything sweet will do.", you said, pulling the bottle from your pocket that would cause cramps. "Milk and honey to sweeten it would work as well."

A few words were exchanged with the guards, then he returned to his chair. His eyes fell on the bottle in your hand.

"What's that?", he sounded suspicious.

Unimpressed, you let the liquid slosh.

"A remedy to calm the nerves.", you said.

He showed you his teeth.

"I don't need anything to calm me down.", he hissed, his fingers tightening in the wood of the chair.

"The treatments are new, there will be changes.", you pulled the cork. "I don't yet know what exactly needs to be treated. It will take time to find the right remedy."

Exhaling deeply, he leant forward. It felt like he was threatening you. But no miracles were created by threats.

"My patience is not endless.", warned Khotun Kahn.

You looked at him calmly. The bitter odour rose from the bottle. Goose bumps spread across your arms.

"As I said, I don't perform miracles.", your voice was calm but the fingers on the bottle were twisted. "To claim I could cure all ailments in this one night would be a lie."

A growl caught in his throat.

"You're underselling your abilities to get away with failure?", he asked, a slight hiss dancing on his tongue.

A soldier appeared in the entrance of the tent. In his hands he held a large flask.

"Fermented milk and honey.", the soldier bowed, placed the flake next to you and then left without a single word.

Your gaze lingered on the milk for a moment before grabbing a wooden cup to pour some for the Kahn. His eyes followed your every move, eyebrows flinched as you poured a few drops of the mixture into it.

"There might be side effects.", you explained while mixing the medicine with the milk to make it less unpleasant to taste. "Sometimes bodies reject certain medicine. Nausea and headaches are quite common. You will feel worse before you get better. And if not, we will take our time to find another solution."

Not a single word of doubt left his lips. Until you offered him the medicine.

"You first.", he suddenly said with a gesture.

You hesitated. This wasn't anything unexpected. Khotun Kahn couldn't afford to get poisoned. Men in high ranks tended to be paranoid, feared to be pushed from their thrones.

You had no interest in taking his throat, the army he commanded or the power he wielded. All you desired was to reclaim your own long lost freedom.

So you took a big gulp from the cup. Bitterness made your tongue curl as it ran down your throat. It was like chewing on hard bamboo.

Without pulling a face you swallowed the milk and then offered him the very same cup. Still sceptical, he lifted one eyebrow.

"It's only to calm the nerves.", you reminded him. "Once I figured out what condition you have I'll adjust the treatment."

With a low hum he emptied the cup.

"How long will it take?", he asked.

"I don't know."

"You try to avoid your duty."

"You expect me to perform the doings of a witch."

With his teeth bared, he leaned forward.

"Are you not?", he asked with a hiss. "If not, what are you?"

You met his gaze, calm and ready to face his wrath.

"I am but a simple healer. If your doctors couldn't help you for the past years, how am I supposed to succeed today?"