Delphinium- or A Necromancer's Home

by V. M. Jaskiernia

  He walked in and did not bother to nod in greeting to anyone. The work though stopped, patients and nurses, doctors, and all the other staff slowing down and turning to him.

  “Continue on,” he called, walking to the secretary at the front. “Do not dare neglect any of your patients any further.” It took a moment but they returned to what they were doing, though now stiffer or in even more of a rush to get out of the main entrance and Pierre’s way.

  The secretary, to her credit, bowed her head quickly and then did her job, telling him that those he requested would be there as soon as their patients would allow, though the chief doctor was already waiting.

  “Of course, thank you, madame. Let them know that I am to be seen only when they have their patients stable and in the best of care during their absence.”

  A younger boy ran off to give those messages to their intended while the secretary walked Pierre to a meeting room. Right before he opened the door she shifted on her feet and Pierre paused, looking over to her. She took a deep breath and straightened herself up.

  “I agree with what you are doing, Your Grace. I have spoken with those parents for the last several days, along with the little girl. She was sweet and kind and in pain. The chief doctor told me to mind my station and leave it be when I asked why nothing was being done. After the initial look-over she was ignored completely until you came! I was told they could not pay for it, but to let her stay and die here out of kindness.” She spat the last word and took a deep breath to compose herself before continuing, “I offered to give part of my salary, along with a few other nurses and the errand boys. We would have only had to give up a day or so of wages when we had all come together. Only then I was told the chief surgeon was out of town and even if we paid it would be impossible. He was not out of town the day she was admitted, though, yet the night of there was an urgent request to visit family of the chief doctor of the hospital in a town two days ride away.” The implication was clear. The surgeon would have gladly helped the girl even without pay, but the chief doctor had sent him away.

  “Make a list,” he ordered. “Of those you know of and any more you can find out who feel so strongly about the fée, one way or the other. I understand that those who are fée or fay may be untrusted, even in some cases in a justifiable manner. But they are people of Triumphe, as much as any human, and unless they do something to break the laws that we have set for all beings they must be treated with respect and care. If someone dislikes them, fine. If they refuse to give them aid even against death, I wish to know.”

  “Oui, Your Grace. Merci.”

  He sighed and closed his eyes a moment as she left. At least he had a few allies here. He might not have to fire every single member of this hospital. The chief, though, would certainly go. Who would replace him would depend on whether any of the other head doctors had his views. If they all did, perhaps he would ask Ophion to take over for a time. It would be nice to have his uncle nearby. But more realistically it would have to be someone else. He wondered if Doctor Hervé would be opinion to the position. That town they had stopped in certainly did have at least respectful relationship with the fée given how the funeral had been allowed.

  ***

  The chief doctor waited for him at the head of a long table. He wore his uniform and his bag of tools was on the table to his left. He looked as if he had already worked that day.

  “I do believe I already fired you,” Pierre said without preamble, walking around and sitting in the middle of the seats, on the far side so that he could see the door and anyone that entered saw him first. The duc placed his cane so that it leaned on the chair and was easy to grab. The crowned tophat he also kept upon his head.

  “As I said before, Your Grace, you do not have that authority.”

  “I have already begun a letter to Father. I had hoped I needed not send it tonight, but you force my hand.”

  There was no reply. Pierre remained silent as well. After a moment the duc stood and walked to the door, opening it and glancing into the hall. He called over an errand boy and whispered something into his ear. The boy nodded and ran off.

  “What did you say?” the chief asked.

  “I merely asked for him to check when the other heads may get here,” Pierre lied. He returned slowly to his seat.

  “May you tell me why?” the duc asked.

  “I did not want to waste my surgeons on such a case.”

  “Not only,” Pierre snapped, “did you waste and send away the chief surgeon—” The man’s paling face confirmed that. “—that also does not answer why you feel it would be a waste in the first place. A farmer’s daughter is an important part of her household, and of the economy, even after you take out all emotions and common sense. Not to mention it breaks the vow of Clandestine doctors to take care of all who come across their path or find means of doing so if you cannot.”

  “She is not of—”

  “She is both of Clandestina and Triumphe. She crossed your path, no matter who comes from where the vow applies. She is a child!” He knew he had broken the vow himself many a time, even in the short time he had officially been a doctor, but some morals he still held. Ophion had made sure that even if Pierre wanted to master death he would understand the power and not wield it heartlessly. He had brought Wolfram back after he killed him, and Salome had wanted to die. She would also be returned soon. He had had reason then, or fixed his error.

  Oh, how quickly he could have become as this man, deciding who lived or died for reasons that were so petty and cruel.

  Again there was no answer from the doctor.

  The door was then violently flung open and a man that Pierre had not met the day before rushed in. He wore riding clothes with dirt still on his trousers, so not who he had sent for with the errand boy.

  The man seemed to not even see the duc, focusing on the chief doctor and striding right up to him. The chief stood and held his head high as if he were in the right.

  “You bastard!” the man yelled. He raised a fist, the chief doctor stepping back, but the other got control of himself and lowered his arm, though still seemed to shake in rage. “There was no one ill at your distant family’s! They even seemed confused as to why I was there! Renette told me that you had been refusing to let a girl get care, not allowing my surgeons or any other doctor to see her because she is fay!”

  Pierre finally stood and finally the man who could only be the chief surgeon noticed him. He looked over Pierre’s clothes and bowed.

  “My lord, forgive me, I—”

  “I know,” Pierre replied. “And it is ‘Your Grace.’ The girl is well, by the way. I took her to my home and performed the surgery. Her gallbladder was inflamed because of stones, but she is recovering.”

  “She is recovering,” the surgeon repeated. Relief washed over him and he sank into a chair. “Oh, thank God. Thank you, Your Grace, merci.” He his his face in his hands and took a few deep breaths before wiping at his eyes harshly. He then coughed and stood again to perform a more proper bow.

  “I am Adam Roland, Your Grace, the chief surgeon of this hospital. I heard of your coming but could not be here yesterday as I had been called away.”

  “I have heard. Thank you, monsieur. Please, sit, it seems you have just now returned. I will ask for water to be brought.” And at that the duc of Piques went to request water for the man that he was now going to promote to the new chief of the hospital and hopefully get to know very well.

  Pierre and Adam, a man only a few years older than the duc, sat down far away from the chief doctor, essentially ignoring him while discussing Alise and her family. At one point the chief stood to leave and Pierre ordered he stay.

  “You care a great deal for this patient for having never met her,” Pierre continued. Adam nodded, glanced to the chief, and turned to speak with Pierre in a whisper. “My wife is fay,” he said, almost so quietly that the duc could not hear, much less the chief so far down. “Renette, she is the secretary in the main floor
. She was lost there for just a couple of days as a child, but she said it felt like months to her. She was taken care of, and somehow returned as a blancwitch. She tells few people this and most assume she was born as one. I think that bastard suspects though because he has never allowed her to become a nurse even if a blancwitch would be a fantastic addition to the staff.

  “When I heard of this girl all I could think of was our own children. I have a daughter that looks the image of Alise, golden eyes and all, and is her age as well. She cannot hide who she is. And that bastard would have let her die. Those parents knew nothing of such people and were proud she was a foundling. They should be.”

  “You have my word, Adam Roland, that this ends now. I will change this. You will also be able to be proud of her openly.”

  As if on cue the door burst open again, this time several city guards coming into the room, looking around as if expecting to witness something terrible. The duc himself had told them to come to the hospital after all.

  Pierre stood and one of the men, whose uniform was a little more elaborate than the others, spoke, “Your Grace, our presence was requested as quickly as possible. What is wrong?”

  “That man,” Pierre said, pointing to the chief doctor who was also out of his chair and unable to get to the door, but frantically looking around as if there was another means of escape. “Arrest him on my authority and pleasure.”

  They nodded and caught the chief as he tried to get past them, tying his hands behind his back and taking him out of the room without much struggle. He would be investigated, of course, to make sure that His Grace’s pleasure was not unfounded, but an order was all they needed to arrest him.

  “Now,” Pierre sat and smiled to Adam, who was looking wide-eyes and with a huge grin at the retreating backs of the guards. “How do you feel about being promoted to chief of the hospital?”

  ***

  Pierre walked home, dismissing the carriage that was still waiting for him from a couple of hours ago, needing the time to think. The other head doctors had started to come in after the chief’s arrest, most of them having been busy with patients or even on their days off and not realizing the duc had come in early. At being told the situation most were horrified, many not knowing the specifics, while others seemed to vouch for their chief anyway. Unsure if it was loyalty to their chief rather than approval of what he had done, Pierre kept their faces in mind but would allow Renette and Adam to confirm or deny his suspicions later. He had found a great ally in that couple.

  He could not blame the people of Piques worrying about the fée, though. They had taken his own father, deprived parents of their child, a duchy from their duc, and warped his morals and very nature into being more like them. They were harmful in ways that the humans were not, to think otherwise was foolish and might well lead to one’s own death. So the fear of the fée was not without warrant. Even Elizabeth, who he knew to be kind, was wary. A wolf was after all a wolf, no matter how much you wished it was a dog. And from what he knew of the fée they would relish being called wolves.

  But this was also a fay girl under his protection. Any fée or fay that lived in this plane had to follow the rules of the crown, and in return they were protected by it. It was the very reason the titles were in the Clandestine tongue, to show authority not only over the human people, but those of other bestia. Fée caught taking children or people into Faery were punished, this agreed and enforced by both the Margraves and the Faery Queens. That might not always mean the person returned, at times they were already so lost it was impossible to find them. Now that he knew Faery itself had choice and power, it made more sense.

  In his father’s case… perhaps Rhianu should have returned Félicien when she found him. He had never asked if she had tried. Perhaps it had been impossible, or maybe she was selfish. But she had not taken him in the first place, and whatever her punishment should have been, Félicien as duc pardoned her.

  He needed to speak with Rhianu and his comtes. Both parties needed to come to a better understanding about the two bestia, the laws, and how they would all live together.

  Fifteen

  His Grace only asked that she contact her parents, and it may even have been faster to send a written message, but Síofra instead dressed to leave and go in person. She had not been home or in Faery for almost a week, and while overall that was not a long time, it was the longest time she had been away until now. She was rarely in this plane for more than a day or two and previously always with one of her parents. Pierre said it was alright if it took some time, so she took that as permission to at least spend a day at home. This close to the fée’s Summerfinding would have the inhabitants getting ready for a change in rule as the King of the Summer Fae took over from the Queen of the Spring Fae. She would then move her court to this plane and begin its Midspring.

  She took off the necklace that Renaud had given her. Despite her uneasiness with him last night she smiled as she saw the flakes of silver that swam in the water. It was a lovely piece and she adored it. Putting the necklace in a drawer for safekeeping she then took the pins out of her hair and ran her hand through her locks. Renaud preferred when she had it pinned up, but she tended to like it loose, or at most in a tail.

  Ready now, she bid Elizabeth a farewell and promised to be back soon, and to bring her something. She intended to bring Renaud a gift back as well. Whether she would tell her parents about him was another matter—they were coming on official business, after all, it would not do to bring up personal matters and split their attention. And truly, she felt it thrilling to keep him a secret for a while.

  She stopped by his rooms but he did not answer, though the door was unlocked when she tried. He was not in his quarters. She wrote him a quick note instead, not wishing to leave without any contact. As she left his rooms and began to head towards the back gardens someone grabbed her arm.

  Their grip was tight, and she twisted around to see who had dared take such a painful hold on her.

  “What are you—Renaud!”

  He seemed to realize he was hurting her and his grip loosened, but he did not let go.

  “Where are you going? You are dressed up in the clothes you came here in. You were in my rooms. And where is your necklace!”

  “Home,” she replied, trying to gently remove herself from his grip. He did not let go and she tugged harshly, freeing herself and stepping back. “I left the necklace in my quarters.”

  “Why?” he asked. He reached for her, then his arm fell back to his side. His annoyance—anger?—left him and he spoke more softly now, “Síofra, dear, please. What is because of what I said? Do not go.”

  “What? No, Renaud. His Grace asked me to summon my parents, I thought I would go to them and then we all return together. I left my necklace because I did not wish for it to get lost.”

  “Oh.” He stepped back, looking her over again. “I am sorry, dear. I do not know what came over me.”

  He reached out again and this time she let him touch her. He took her hand and raised it, kissing her fingers, and then continuing up her arm until he kissed the spot he had gripped too tightly. There were no marks, but she was not sure if it would stay that way. “I am sorry, Síofra. I thought you were leaving me and I panicked. Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” she lied. “I am fine. Just be careful when you grab me.”

  “Again?” he asked, his sheepish look turning into a grin.

  “Well, I may wish to be grabbed sometime,” she replied. He laughed, and the uneasy feeling she had left her as they fell back into flirting. It had been an accident and a misunderstanding.

  “Will you walk me to the forest?”

  “By all means,” he replied, holding out his arm. She took it and he held her tight as they walked to the gardens together.

  ***

  Two letters from the castle reached Pierre the next day. By the dates one had been written first, before the incident with Alise, with the other a reply to the letter Pierre sent to the roi yes
terday about what was takings place. He opened up the letter from his brother first.

  Brother dear,

  Forgive the late reply, it had been a whirlwind in returning home. Ancel wishes to explore the castle as he has never been here before. He is also quite talkative and has realized his birthday will be soon and that means a party and presents. He is trying to make sure none of these new servants are ignorant of this, and they all indulge him, as if his birthday was not well known. If I do not stop Maman the party he receives will be as elaborate as yours and Ancel may well enjoy it like that! Hélaïse sends her love as well. I hope the advisors are doing their part and keeping you informed.

  Do not do too much work if you can help it. Ask for anything you may need from me, Brother.

  As far as the sickness I believe they are calling it Sanguiosi here. Father confirms there has been a case already in the capital, but it was kept quiet among the people so as not to cause panic. It was an isolated incident and no one else was reported ill yet. There have been steps implemented to keep it from becoming more than it is, but even so it is being classified as a plague further south already. Those who are symptomatic do not survive, or at least I have not heard of one surviving yet. I heard Elizabeth was taken ill on the journey, I am glad it was not with that.

  Lord Ophion is being tasked with learning more, though at the moment he is in Quercus with his grandson. I do believe he continues his research even so, along with his students still about the castle. No doubt you too are looking into it with Wolfram.

  I am sure you are doing well.