A traveling hellkin was a highly skilled medic who knew how to make most medicines, use magic to heal, and was an accomplished surgeon. They did not discriminate with their treatments, and only charged as much as a person was capable of paying. Even if it meant just asking for a simple meal, or, not asking for anything more, than a thank you. -- Anon Guest
If someone looked no further than first impressions, he looked like a wandering vagabond carrying a dovecote on his back. They would certainly notice the horns, hooves, and spaded tail before they would see that the 'dovecote' was a sort of chest with drawers and doors. There were bundles of herbs hanging off it, and the Hellkin himself had a sickle and string on his hip. There was a posy of common herbs tied to one horn, advertising his trade where people were wont to stare.
He called himself Vitality, and he was a wandering healer. Wandering for reasons that quickly become obvious the more anyone learns about how the Unwelcome are treated in otherwise civilised territory.
There are some towns that Vitality walks through quickly. Some where he pauses to ask after the sick, but is hurried away. Some where he takes the longer path around, just for his own safety. The places that made his keep were the ones who saw him coming and, instead of readying the pitchforks and torches, sent out a runner to come fetch him in.
They were desperate enough to take anyone, and the salvation of a devil counted as pure desperation.
People say the devilborn can make shadows do their bidding. They say that Hellkin can feast on ashes and blood without coming to harm. They say that Teufels can lead the minor demons of disease out of a town like a piper leading away the rats. They said a lot of horseshit, honestly.
The important part was that they said the Hellkin Vitality could cure a rainy day.
When the need was great, or the situation dire, they were glad to see the Hellkin with a house of drawers across his back.
For the poor, he asked little beyond a meal and a place to rest. The rich expected the same. They did not get it.
"You charged the Widow Pennywhistle a heel of bread and a night in her loft," argued the fat merchant.
"The widow in question could barely afford that," said Vitality. "And I only took the bread since it upset her for me to refuse. You, sir, can afford far much more."
"I demand the same care for the same price," said the merchant, summoning his guard and their weapons. "Or you shall pay with your life."
"As you wish," said Vitality. Right then and there, Vitality concocted a remedy for rheumatism he gave to the Widow Pennywhistle. "The same care, for the same price. As bargained."
"I want you to cure my gout!"
"That will cost extra," said Vitality, "and if you kill me, you will get no cure at all."
"You're bold, devil," sneered the merchant. "If I kill you, you can't win."
"Do you want to save your foot or not?" said Vitality. "The other healers are miles away and... judging by your precautions, you don't have that long before amputation is needed." He gave the merchant a sharp smile. "Nobody cares if a devil dies."
When a threat is overdone, it has no further weight. Clearly, Vitality had weathered many such threats before, and found them ultimately toothless.
For a handful of minutes, the merchant and the devil held each other's gaze, knowing that only one of them held all the power. And it wasn't the merchant.
The merchant blinked first. "How much?" he demanded.
"The entire fortune you spent on your food before I came," said Vitality. "You will have a new budget for that, henceforth. A much smaller budget."
"You dare?"
"It's the rich and extravagant food that gave you gout. Spend less on your diet and your foot will remain yours. Once the treatment is sure, I will leave and you will have the extra coin to work for your profits. Until then? I remove the temptation to eat that coin's worth of rich food."
The merchant almost gestured for his guards to attack, but paused. "You're certain of this?"
"Your choice, sir. Food or foot."
Thus, Vitality became the only Hellkin ever known -before the time of the Thrice-Sworn King- to avoid the Teufel Tax.
[Photo by Yogesh Pedamkar on Unsplash]
If you like my stories, please Check out my blog and Follow me. Or share them with your friends! Or visit my hub site to see what else I'm up to.
Send me a prompt [35 remaining prompts!]