by Guy Antibes
“Saving the enemy. Just our luck.” Menna tapped Bellia on her arm. “Guard work.”
“What?”
“Guard work. That’s what happens when you take over another country. King Rollack’s going to have to make sure South Wansua is properly rolled into his kingdom. Once the army moves on, those left behind become occupation troop[s. The military left behind do guard work. I’ve done it before and it’s a lose-lose situation. The people hate you because you are invaders and you end up hating them because they are just plain ignorant.”
“Come on. The Duke signed the treaty. They’ve joined with North. That’s how it works, doesn’t it?” Bellia said. She realized her father taught her about wars, but little about practical politics.
“That’s the way one would hope it happens. King Rollack is smart--he left the ruler in place. I’ll bet the Duke’s new next in line is one of Rollack’s men and King Rollack will take South Wansua’s army with him.”
“So it will go smoothly,” She struggled to picture it all in her mind.
“Things just don’t turn out that way, Bellia. There will be resentment left behind no matter what the King does. That’s just human nature and if we have to recuperate for too long we’ll be left far behind.” Menna said with a touch of despair.
The stretcher bearers stumbled a bit on a step, bringing a new pulse of pain. “I don’t see this healing any time soon.” Bellia looked down at her wrapped leg. “Guard work must not be much fun.” Bellia stopped speaking and lay back watching the columns and windows go by. The pain stabbed again within her leg and seemed to go up her side as the bearers took her down the steps of the main entrance.
“You’ve rated a cart.” Menna said it with surprise in her voice. “Perhaps a wounded soldier such as myself can sneak aboard.”
Bellia smiled, and then grimaced as they loaded her on the cart. She didn’t look forward to rolling over all those cobbles through town.
After a few minutes, the cart stopped at a large house. Men stood ready to carry Bellia’s stretcher inside. One of them looked at Menna. “I guess you, too.”
“Me too, what?” Menna said to the stretcher bearer as they went inside.
Bellia knew where they were the minute she passed the door. She sensed a faint spell. Maybe a ward at the door to keep out insects? She didn’t know its purpose, but she did know they were in a wizard’s house. A stab of fear ran through her. She dreaded meeting another wizard. Her family’s death was by a wizard and she didn’t want to succumb to another.
“Ooo,” she involuntarily said as they moved her from the stretcher to a high table.
“What is this place?” Menna looked around; with not quite the ease she usually exhibited.
“This place is a healer’s house,” the wizard said as he walked in. “And I am Uddo.” He gave both a little bow. “Our King—or rather our Duke, now—has retained me to heal the one with the leg, but I can just as easily take care of you, too,” Uddo said, looking at Menna.
“I didn’t know wizards did healing?” Bellia said, truthfully. Her mother used some healing spells, but right alongside all of the rest of the magic she practiced.
“North Wansua?” Uddo shook his head. “The King there dislikes wizardry. I only hope he continues to permit it in the South, now that we are to be united. I’ve practiced here a long time and I’m too old to find another place.” He walked over to Bellia and pulled a pair of scissors out of his pocket.
“Surprised I don’t charm the wrappings off?”
Bellia hadn’t thought of that at all. She jerked at the prospect of more pain, so she just grunted.
Uddo smiled and clipped Bellia’s pants off, starting at cuff and working his way up. Now how would she get back to her tent without pants? She thought back to her embarrassment with Astun at the creek.
“Spread your other leg a little. I’m going to cut up that side as well, that way you won’t have to get up and start bleeding all over the place.” Uddo continued to work humming a strange tune.
Bellia noticed him occasionally punching out magical codes with his fingers. The man was practiced at making the gestures seem natural. By the time the pant legs were clipped to her hip on one side and crotch on the other, the pain was gone from her wound. The tune kept patients distracted from his magical work.
“I think you’ve got part of your pants in your wound, just as I might have imagined. The sword also cut a vein or two on its way in and out.” Uddo closely examined the holes in each flap of her pant leg. The swelling is from blood leaking into your tissues. It would have festered without my help. Amputation wouldn’t have worked, my dear. I don’t think you would have made it.”
Bellia could feel herself getting light-headed. Was the fear of death clouding her mind or was it a spell? She didn’t know and she found herself not caring as long as she could keep her leg and her life.
The humming started up again. This time Uddo washed the wound at the entry point and the exit. He grabbed a swab and pretended to move his hands as if he were leading a band of musicians while he worked his spell.
The wound began to pulse. “That’s getting hot,” Bellia said as the discomfort from the heat became greater than the pain.
“The swab, the swab has an unguent agent. Isn’t nice how those words go together?”
Bellia nearly smiled through the pain at the masterful misdirection by the wizard. He fingered a few more codes and a blaze of pain shot right along the path of the blade in her leg. Bellia passed out.
~
Ornate decorations on the ceiling caught Bellia’s attention as she opened her eyes. She lay on a thin mattress. A sheet covered her. The wizard sat on a chair in the room dozing. Bellia lifted the sheet hoping to see two legs. Her pants were missing, but her legs, thankfully, weren’t.
“You’re awake. Good. Go ahead look at your wound.”
“There’s no pain or swelling now. Did that put me out or was it something you did.”
“We needed to burn the path of the blade to keep the wound clean. While you slept, I restored the integrity of your blood vessels and your torn muscles. I had to drain a significant amount of blood. Your leg will ache for a few days and you’ll have a couple of scars. Think of them as trophies. Just don’t overdo your activities for a week or so,” Uddo chuckled.
“Where are my swords and my pants?”
“Fear not. Your wealth is safe. I could feel all of the coins through your belt. As for this…” Uddo showed her the Blind God token. “This is astounding. How did you get it?”
“I found it.”
“You did not. You’re not dealing with a fellow soldier. I’m an experienced wizard. And you—Bellia is it? —are an inexperienced wizardess. Did you think I didn’t notice your gaping at my codework as I worked on your leg?
“But you did it so well. Even my father—” Bellia had already said too much.
“Your father was Norlian, was he not? You look just like your mother. I helped him put his crazy house up in the desert.”
“You know about that?”
“I do.” Uddo smiled. “And as soon as he finished and we sealed the spell so levitation effect wouldn’t dissipate over time, he kicked me out. Wouldn’t have anything to do with me.”
“Father was a hermit.”
“Indeed he was. Afraid, too. I heard of your mother’s disappearance. That meant that something very bad had happened. I don’t think anyone knows you exist.” Uddo raised his hands. “I thought your mother was pregnant at the time, as I recall. Your father paid me handsomely to help him--the same kind of coinage that is in your belt. That confirmed it.”
“You had no right to look.”
“No.” Uddo pursed his lips. “Healers are curious folk, Bellia, but not generally dangerous. I think you are pursuing the right strategy. You stayed silent about your magic. I imagine you don’t want to use it?”
“It didn’t save my family.” A sadness Bellia hadn’t felt since her first talks with Astun returne
d. The prospects of a bleak future filled her head with despair.
Uddo shook his head. “That it didn’t, but you were still a girl back then. Now, to this.” He held up the gold coin. “This is something very special. I examined it with my powers. This was never struck and is not the result of a spell. I must conclude that it came from the Blind God himself.”
Bellia felt a shiver. “It did. I didn’t think anyone would believe me. He gave it to me in the woods near where we stopped before the invasion. All he said was that if I needed h, it would be at his temple and this would vouch for me.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes, he said we’d meet again.” Bellia didn’t look forward to that meeting. All she wanted to do was disappear, blend in. Her efforts weren’t working very well.
“Fascinating. You are a person of consequence no matter what you do. Your friend said you made that sword?” He pointed to her weapons laid out on a side table.
“I did. When I fled from the desert house, I took up an apprenticeship with a blacksmith. He taught me how.
“A blacksmith. How unusual for a girl. Did you know your swords are infused with magic?”
“Couldn’t be. I’ve only done codework once since I left.”
“No spells? No. But nevertheless, you have strengthened them. Ever wonder why it is so sharp? Sharper than any other blade you’ve crafted?”
“A lot of work.”
“Yes, and with each layer, a sheen of magic. I’ve never seen anything like it. Have you made any others?”
“I’ve made hundreds of swords and one similar to that is in the King’s possession.”
“Let’s hope the King never shows it to the wrong man. Little need of that. Rollack hates wizards. I wish I knew why.” Uddo furrowed his brow with a worried look.
“Are you afraid he’ll shut you down?”
“Not really, but there’s always a chance. I truly am a healer. I don’t have a library of codes up here.” He tapped his head, then knocked it with his fist and grinned. “Not like your father. His knowledge was prodigious. He’d probably rate right up there with the mightiest wizards in the world today.”
“You promise you won’t tell anyone?”
“Why would I? I’m pretty confident King Cressian thinks he’s the last of the royal family of Grianna left.”
“He is as far as I’m concerned,” Bellia said. “They incinerated the rest of my family.” She spoke quietly about her discovery for the first time.
Uddo shook his head. “To obliterate your father’s power. To make sure no resurrection spell would ever reconstitute his remains. Be certain no revival spell could be invoked on ashes. It must have been difficult for you.”
Bellia told Uddo about the circumstances of her parent’s death and her time alone in the House. It felt good to finally tell someone who would understand.
“A terrible time for you. But dear me, I’ve now forgotten it, Bellia the soldier.” Uddo smiled at he clutched Bellia’s shoulder. “I mean that. I’ve sent one of my men to procure pants…” He held up the coin. “And this will go in it. You need to sit back and rest.”
“What about Menna.”
“Her?” Uddo shook his head in mock dismay. “She talked me out of a carafe of my good wine and convinced me to listen to her war stories. I must admit the woman’s a charmer.”
“Her wound?”
“Ah. Nice and clean. Not much I could do except to throw a little spell to help healing along. She’ll have a faint scar to scare the men with to show them how tough she is, if they look really hard. A complicated woman, your friend.” Uddo gave Bellia a little wave as he walked out the door. “Rest.”
Bellia looked up at the ceiling with her hands behind her head. For the first time since the incident, she felt cleansed somehow. Uddo didn’t perform any magic to do that. No, it was a simple unburdening of her soul. Those understanding words out of Uddo’s mouth comforted Bellia more than anything else.
Her thoughts turned to the Blind God. The scene in the woods hadn’t faded in time like a dream would. Uddo believed in the event more than Bellia. She wondered what the temple looked like as her eyelids slid down.
~~~
Chapter Eight
The King’s Swords
~
“Strike those tents,” the sergeant said. “Up, get up.” She kicked the front pole down, collapsing Bellia’s tent.
Menna got up on her elbows. “Mustering time. We’re on the march again.” She grinned and slapped Bellia on her formerly wounded leg.
Bellia shook her head at the needless act. Sometimes she wondered about Menna’s mean streak. “I’ve told you it doesn’t hurt any more. Do you want me to start slapping you on your forehead?” Bellia rose from her slumber to a sitting position in what little head room remained in the tent as Menna fixed the pole. She felt a little grumpy. They weren’t supposed to have any duties today,
“We won’t be guards.” Menna’s grin became wider. “Thank the King or rather Duke of South Wansua.” She gave a mock salute.
By the time they finished packing, they took their mess pots to the meal line for the last time in the fields of Wolfborough. Winter was beginning its onslaught and moving south not only brought them closer to their next foe, but farther away from the warmer north.
“Lamb fat in the mush. I hate the smell, but it sure fills one up.” Menna said.
The mush bordered on the inedible to Bellia, but she didn’t have a choice, and soldiers never turned down a meal. They might march all day without another bite to eat.
Astun walked up to the pair carrying cloaks.
“Here a gift from King Rollack.” He held out two standard issue army cloaks. “Take them.”
Bellia took hers. The boiled wool hid something else. “Fur lined?” she whispered.
Astun nodded his head. “His staff have such cloaks, but with gold buttons and braid. These look just like everyone else’s. I’d put a button or something on yours to tell them apart.”
Bellia nodded. “These aren’t really from the king, are they?”
He just shrugged his shoulders.
“How can we repay you?” she said.
Astun grinned. “A ‘thank you’ will do.”
“Thanks. I feel a little guilty,” Bellia said.
“Don’t. You two didn’t even get a reward for your efforts. To my way of thinking these are better than any medals or cash bonuses,” he said.
Her medical bill from Uddo couldn’t have been cheap. And the unintended healing to Bellia’s outlook ended up much more valuable than a warm coat.
Astun waved as he tromped off in the ever-present mud. Bellia looked at him disappear in the hubbub of the camp, appreciating his welcome gift.
~
The King’s Swords marched with the General Staff of the First Army. The King did not travel with either army and rushed to unknown destinations along the way not wanting to expose himself in the midst of a slow march.
Bellia pulled her collar around her neck and looked at the lowering clouds. “Snow. Another day of snow, Menna. You know what I hate about that?”
“No. Tell me.” Menna didn’t talk a lot in the cold.
“More rivers of rust freezing on my face.” She looked up at the rim of her helmet, reddish brown drops ready to fall.
“Why don’t you pound out a visor in the rim?”
“Really?” Bellia said. “I never thought about that. Would it be close enough to regulations? We are the King’s Swords.”
“Not if everyone has one.”
“Sergeant?” Bellia rushed up the line to walk beside the sergeant. “When do we put up camp?”
“River Turlok. Four leagues ahead. On the other side is the country of Kokota. This time all three armies camp together. The Kokotan army is building on the other side of the river. They won’t be like the South Wansuans. They are like brothers to us compared to these wiry devils.”
“I thought Kokota was covered with grass and nomads we
nt days without seeing another tribe,” Bellia said.
“Maybe that was true five hundred years ago.”
Bellia wondered how ancient the book on Kokota in her father’s library was. Five hundred years for a wizard’s book wasn’t unusual. She just shrugged her shoulders at the sergeant.
“Now cities cover the land. Their grasslands are mostly gone replaced by cattle and wheat like everywhere else on Testia. Now why are you walking at my side? Is this some special occasion?”
“I was wondering when we set up camp if I might take our unit’s helmets and put visors on them. You know, to keep the rusty water off of our faces.”
The sergeant put her fist to his chin in thought. To Bellia it looked like an uncomfortable pose to take while marching along a muddy road. But the sergeant ended her musings with a smile. “At least the length of a thumb width. And everyone’s have got to look the same.”
The sergeant kept walking, but Bellia stopped, waiting for Menna to catch up. “Done.”
Menna winked at her friend as Bellia began walking by his side. “So on to my wayward sisters and brothers.” She gave Bellia an enigmatic look.
~
As much as King Rollack liked his armies separate, the camp sprawled for a league square. Each army took a different route, but all converged on the main road leading over a large bridge running over the River Turlock. A division of men set up camp on the other side and began to build fortifications of ditches filled with spikes and a palisade.
The jakes and horse lines spread out as far from the river as possible to keep from contaminating the drinking water. A league and a half back along the main road, the quartermasters set up their tents.
Bellia borrowed a pike and threaded her squad’s helmets on the pole and made her way back to the forges. She could see the trails of smoke drifting in the cold winter air. As she walked, her mind focused on how to make the visor so the water dripped off to the sides.
“Where are the First Army forges?” Bellia asked a quartermaster. She wished she could spot the red hair of Astun, but everyone wore hats or helmets in the cold. Bellia noticed many in the rear guard all wore thin knit hats. Maybe she could use those to line the helmets and make them more comfortable.