by Celia Lake
She nodded. “I, um. Talking with Amet, she was clear I’d developed feelings for you. And I’ll not deny it. But it’s not proper to act on them, so can we put that aside, until you’re not my patient anymore?”
“How are we defining that?” Roland didn’t want to press her, but he did want a clear line to work with.
When Roland looked up at her, Elen was chewing her lip. “How about that you can see to your own basic daily needs - get yourself to the bath, have a manageable walk, a full circuit of the garden, and we’ve weaned you off the evening potion.”
“With or without the canes?”
“Oh, with. But at that point, it would be rebuilding your strength and stamina, and you don’t need a nurse for that. Maybe a valet or something with a little bit of specific training.” She peered at him. “Do you have a man? A valet?”
It made Roland chuckle. “I did. Should again, sometime, but they wouldn’t permit him here. Been with me five years, used to my foibles.”
“Your valet, then. Is he, is he somewhere?”
“The family house, I presume. He didn’t go to the War with me. He has an ankle brace. Steady as anything when he’s wearing it, but wobbly without it, and not fast on his feet.”
Elen said, distractedly, “Polio, then?” She used the name he’d be most familiar with, he expected, rather than the more precise medical name.
“When he was a child, yes. Anyway, he’s doing some clerking to free up others to go fight, that sort of thing. So, I will have a man when I need one. What do we do now?”
Elen let out a breath. “Well, I don’t know what I’m permitted. Other than being here. They said Healer Rhoe would tell me, but she just sent me off?”
Somewhat predictably, that was when there was a rap on the door, and a “Sir?”
“Yes, Harry.” Elen stood, immediately, dropping his hand, which Roland regretted.
“Sister Almeda would like a word with Nurse Morris in the lounge if it’s convenient.”
They looked at each other, and Elen let out a breath. “If I don’t... if I don’t come back, I’ll find a way to get in touch. Promise.”
Roland did not like that at all, but he could not argue. She nodded once, and turned to go out the door.
Chapter 33
Monday, Roland’s room
Elen let out a breath as she came back out of the lounge, and hurried back to Roland’s room. To Roland’s side, she couldn’t fool herself about that anymore. She glanced down at her hands, and thought the glowing might be fading, now. Certainly, Sister Almeda had done her best to avoid looking, as if something about it made her feel uncomfortable.
She knocked on Roland’s door. “Major Gospatrick?”
His voice was rather delighted. “Nurse, of course.” When she came in, she found him sitting on the edge of his bed, as if he had been contemplating standing up. She tsked.
“Given a particular goal, I am the sort of man who gives his all, Nurse Morris.” He was trying to sound relaxed about it. “Unless you have other instructions.”
Elen considered, closing the door. “I have permission to guide your recovery as I see fit, consulting as appropriate. Healer Cole is still technically overseeing your care, but has been instructed not to interfere so long as you improve. No. No one’s explaining why, I don’t know why they aren’t just removing him entirely. I can’t add potions to your regimen easily, but I can decide you don’t need them.” She hesitated, and added. “I think they’re not sure what to make of the ordeal, who knows what they’ll decide next week? Or what that means for him.”
“If I don’t improve?”
“Then I’m not sure a bit of miracle will save me.”
Roland settled more firmly on the bed. “Right. What do I need to do then? No,wait, what do you mean about Cole?”
“The ordeal unsettled him. I mean, Sister Pomona implied that she thought he might have broken his oaths? Only Sister Almeda didn’t say they were investigating that, or anything. But she might not tell me. They might not tell her, I suppose. Healer business. Or the Archiater’s business, anyway.”
“Even though you have exceedingly relevant information.” Roland frowned. “I suppose we can’t fix that. What do you have in mind for me?”
Elen came around, settling into the chair, facing him, looking at him thoughtfully. “First of all, we’re going to try you without that evening potion again. I want Amet to do an analysis of it, so we can figure out what you’ve been getting.”
“Amet is your friend?”
Elen nodded. “We were at Alethorpe together, in the same house and year, and in complementary specialties. Either we were going to be best friends, or we were going to be each other’s nemesis or whatever you want to call it.”
It made Roland laugh, which was a relief. He’d been a bit intensely focused on her since she’d gotten back. “And she can help?”
“She’s an apothecary, fully trained.” She considered. “Would Master Dixon be willing to help? Would he know anyone who could do an analysis? The things she can’t figure out?”
“Treeve would, yes. You might have to run it over there yourself, but you could leave it with Roger. Treeve, Treeve. He sent a basket along, while you were gone, but that nurse who replaced you didn’t approve of the marzipan. And not actually much of the tea, now I think about it. That’s there.” He pointed at it.
Elen nodded, standing up. “How about we start with tea, then. And marzipan. And I will take your vitals, and get samples ready of your potions, and you will tell me how you’ve been sleeping and eating and such in detail. Then I’ll come up with a plan.”
The briskness obviously reassured Roland. “Since we have a mutually desired goal.”
“Oh, quite.” Elen moved to the table, rearranging things properly, before she picked up the tea canister, spooning it into the teapot before she went to fill it with boiling water. A sound that wasn’t the tea against the metal drew her attention, and she peered inside the container. When she looked more closely, she could see an edge of paper was peeking out from among the leaves. “There’s something in here.”
“What sort of something?”
Elen brought him the canister, and then handed him the spoon she was still holding. “Let me go get the hot water.” He nodded absently at her, distracted. By the time she came back, carefully holding the teapot so she wouldn’t burn her hands, he had extracted a piece of paper, a small note, perhaps three inches by three. “What’s that?”
“A note. Well, a blank piece of paper, but I am quite sure it’s a note.”
Elen set the teapot down. “How do you know?”
“We used to send each other notes in invisible ink. In school. By which I mean orange juice, mostly. They were easier to come by than lemons, Schola has an orangery.” He flicked the paper with his finger. “Do you have a candle or a lamp or something?”
“Open flame is not a common thing in a hospital. Entirely too many flammable vapours.”
“The tea pot? No, that won’t be warm enough.” Roland frowned. “I used to have the knack of it, but I don’t know if...” His voice trailed off.
“What sort of knack?”
“Oh, making heat. With magic. Heat, light, solidness. Three great gifts on a battlefield, even if you have to be careful about the light. My father drilled me on them. Relentlessly.”
“Your father?” Elen kept her voice careful, he hadn’t said much about his family, but after Amet’s comments, she had started to wonder precisely why. There were a number of possible reasons.
“He assumed I’d follow him into the military or into the Guard.” Roland looked up. “In your professional estimation, may I make an attempt at some magic? Some deliberate magic, rather?”
“You haven’t since, since you got here?” Elen had thought about this, since she’d started, but she hadn’t been sure how to ask. Ordinarily, that was the healer’s role. “Other than whatever it is you do in your sleep?”
Roland shook his head.
“I was told it was forbidden.”
“Well, that’s no good, is it. Honestly, I don’t know what they were thinking. That’s the sort of thing the Healers are supposed to see to.” She came and settled in the chair in front of him. “Let me take your vitals first.”
He nodded but held up a hand. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, your magic is something like water. It’s supposed to flow within you. If it’s blocked, then it can build up, and come out in unexpected ways. Or it can turn mucky, like a stagnant marsh.”
“And that’s what happened when I startled you? With the pitcher?”
Elen nodded. “Quite possibly, yes. Mind, since your Healer is supposed to see to that, it didn’t occur to me, even though I knew he wasn’t doing the proper things. The juniors should have seen to it, it’s one of the first things they learn. I know the theory, but I’d want to do a bit more reading up. The question is, why did he want that?”
“And is that awful potion involved?” Roland’s voice had turned thoughtful. “They’ve been so insistent about me taking it.”
“Tell me.” Elen tapped her fingers together, then drew out her notebook. “I know about the incident with me, there was one with the nurse who replaced me?”
“I rather terrified her. It was, um, Harry would know the date.” Roland glanced at her, embarrassed. “I’m afraid I rather lost track of when today is.”
Elen snorted. “It’s the 20th of May. Thursday. I’ll ask Harry. Was there some reason?”
“A presentation. I have another next week, in London.”
“Sister Almeda said.” That had not been an agreeable thing to hear. “She said she’d get me the travel arrangements by tomorrow, so we could plan appropriately. I suspect an overnight will be needed. I don’t suppose you have any friends with a private home there, or something secure, on the magical side?”
“In case I do whatever it is I do.” Roland shrugged. “I wouldn’t blame you for not wanting to be with me, after. Not knowing.”
“None of that, you.” Elen was firm about this. “I wouldn’t abandon you to managing it alone. And I do note you haven’t hurt anyone so far. Scared a few people, Sister Almeda admitted that’s what happened to several other nurses.” Getting that confirmation out of her had felt rather a victory, even if she would rather have had useful information.
“Do you think it’s the presentations themselves having something to do with it, or the potion?”
Elen leaned back, watching Roland’s hands now, the small movements of his body. “I think it might be the interaction of the two. You’re charming, when you’re speaking. Charismatic, engaging. There’s a theory that says that charm, that attention on you, that’s you using your magic. If that’s the case, and the presentation gets your magic flowing, and then you come back, and take a potion that silts it up again, that might be a cause for the outbursts, all by itself.”
“There isn’t precisely an easy way to test before London, though, is there?”
Elen shook her head. “And I know you hate the presentations. I suppose we could try some of the exercises, for replenishing and renewing your magic. At least now I can go consult the library without anyone getting too upset.”
“More books?” Roland leaned back, stretching. “All right. Vitals, and then we see about something simple, is that the plan.”
“It is. Do you need anything before we start? The lavatory, a glass of water?”
He shook his head. “No, actually, I’d rather not put it off.” He held out his wrist, for her to take his pulse.
Elen lifted her watch with one hand, settled the other on his wrist, feeling for a moment for his pulse, and waited for the second hand to reach 12. Then she counted, carefully and precisely for thirty seconds, and multiplied it. “Thermometer.”
That took another minute or two, for the mercury to register properly, but once she’d done that, she said, “Nothing unusual there. Your pulse is a bit lower, that might be the potion. Did anyone take you out walking?”
Roland shook his head. “Harry did a little with me in the hallway, but only a few minutes. And the food’s been awful pap.”
“Well. For all they say they want you to get better, they’re not doing a very good job of helping that happen.”
Roland looked up at her, his eyebrows furrowing. “You wouldn’t have said that before.”
Elen shook her head. “I wouldn’t have. I suspect it’s partly the magic.” She had to admit that, to herself, if not also to him. “I feel emboldened, is that the right word? And it was clear Sister Almeda’s in an odd and uncomfortable position. She couldn’t come out and say it, but I’m quite sure she hasn’t been at ease with your treatment, either.”
“I suppose that’s something.” Roland paused. “I’ve been thinking Cole might have something on the orderlies. Is it possible he’s got some hold on Sister Almeda, too?”
“How would we know?” Elen let out a puff of breath, frustrated. “She’s scarcely going to tell me, now is she? Though if she stops forbidding things, we stand a decent chance or sorting it out.”
“Well, then. Magic? Do we try magic?” Then he considered the paper beside him on the bed.
“What does it take, to show this invisible ink, if that’s what the note is?”
“Heat, like a candle flame, traditionally. You write the letter with something acidic, citrus or vinegar. There are some specialised recipes out there, but those will work well enough. Then you apply the heat to the back of the letter, and the letters appear.”
“Isn’t that awfully insecure? The sort of things you might want invisible ink for surely shouldn’t be so easy to solve.” Elen considered, and said, “Let me get a pitcher of water. Just in case. If you’re going to be heating paper.”
“That is probably not a bad idea.” Roland admitted it with a wry grin. “Since I’ve no idea of my own strength or lack at the moment. And no, the ink by itself is not at all secure. There are charms and cantrips to hide it unless you also have a passcode. Something similar to the authorised signature prints they use on legal documents these days.”
Elen came back from the bathroom, setting the pitcher down on the table, where she could grab it if needed. “And you know what Treeve would use.”
“There are benefits to being schoolmates.” Roland took a deep breath. “Are we ready?”
“As ready as I’m going to be. How do you plan to do this?”
“If you would take the letter, and be ready to hold it over my hands, not touching, like you would with a candle flame, that will do well. I will focus on calling heat and holding it, and we’ll see what comes out. Your notebook is ready?”
Elen nodded. “In my lap.” This would require some juggling from here.
Roland nodded one more time, straightening his shoulders. “Here we go.” He half-closed his eyes, eyebrows narrowing, as he concentrated. At first, it seemed like nothing was happening, his face looked strained, all his muscles tensing, like he was trying to lift something heavy and failing. Then, suddenly, something shifted, a bit like watching a dam break. Or, Elen thought, with a moment of fear, like watching an avalanche on a mine tailings slope, the moment where everything gave way in a torrent of power and uncontrolled destruction.
That terror passed, though, as she saw Roland’s face shift again. He was smiling now, truly smiling, as if something was uncoiling for him. Like he’d been after his bath. That was promising, very promising. He shifted his hands, cupping them together. “Here, try it now.”
Elen moved to hold the paper over his hands, so he could read it, and then they both watched, leaning over it, as letters began to appear. Faint at first, they became more and more legible, a sort of odd sepia brown. But even reading upside down, Elen could tell the letters were all jumbled up, and didn’t make much sense.
Roland took a breath, and lowered his hands, once the colour was as dark as it seemed to get, rubbing them together automatically. Elen would have suggested it if he hadn’t
, it was an excellent way to smooth out the magical energies. He took a breath, let it out, and then took the paper from her, holding it in the top corners, thumb on top, very precisely, before he muttered something under his breath. She could hear only a word or two, and it certainly wasn’t in English.
As she watched, though, the letters shifted and reformed into words that had the right sort of shape, and certainly fewer Xs and Zeds and thorns in the mix. Roland read it, then turned it around so she could read it too.
“Challenge v. interesting. Send excellent nurse when you can to arrange visit. Must explain in person. T.”
Elen blinked at that. “That’s not very informative.”
Roland waved a hand. “Given enough time, it’s possible to break the cypher charm. Will you go round and talk to Roger? And find a time... I suppose he’ll have to come here.”
Elen considered, thinking about the practical aspects, before she let herself dwell on the implications of that note. “We could have an outing, if he has somewhere secure, somewhere we can get your chair into. Practice for London.”
“Ah. Good point. Go round tomorrow, then, and see what he can arrange?”
Elen nodded, but before she could say anything further, there was a knock at the door. “It’s Harry, sir. Time for your bath.”
Chapter 34
Monday, May 24th, Roland’s room
It took them three days to arrange time to meet with Treeve, which was rather faster than Roland had anticipated. In the end, Treeve offered a meeting in the garden of his townhome late Monday morning. It was closer to the Temple, much more private, and an easy walk.
In the meantime, Elen had ruthlessly taken charge. She’d seen to it that he was getting plenty of nourishing food. She’d promptly removed the evening potion. Most of all, she both made him walk increasingly long distances with his canes and had him practising a particular regimen of rehabilitative magical exercises at least three times a day. He couldn’t keep count, honestly.