by M. S. Brook
I forced myself to examine the rest of the wounded, and when all were treated, I left Linden in charge and went outside to clear my thoughts. The crowd had dispersed. No doubt their anger was satisfied when they heard of the Blackcoat’s death, but I had promised to pass on his plea for forgiveness, and I needed help doing it.
I found Lady Stonedale in her tent and told her about my conversation with the dying Blackcoat. When I finished, she sighed, her eyes distant.
“In spite of the terrible things they’ve done, we must bear in mind that many of these men have been forced to join Saduk’s ranks against their own will.” She was silent for a long while, and I was sure she was thinking of her own lost sons, conscripted years ago to fight in Saduk’s army. “I will take care of this for you,” she said. “Evergreen must come to terms with the treachery of Saduk—pitting brother against brother—so that they can heal.”
Orabella did as she promised, and the story of the dying conscript’s plea for forgiveness made the rounds among the settlers. She spoke to the women while they worked together, and in turn, they told the story to their families. She also told of how her own sons had been conscripted against their will and doubtless forced to fight in Saduk’s war bands. “I can only hope,” she said to her new friends, “that they will meet with kind people who are as merciful as you are. For I am afraid that they were forced to do things they are ashamed of.” The Evergreens had their own stories to remember. Many of them had sons who were conscripted too, and I was glad to see that this time the Evergreens were able to lay the blame at Saduk’s feet.
Chapter 20
The summer days were growing shorter and the winds sharpening, when our relief patrol arrived. The River Hall was finished now, and men were binding bundles of river reeds to the roofs of three nearly finished houses. I stopped my work in the herb garden to watch the caravan from Highfield rumble down the valley road to the settlement. As they drew closer, I saw that I had a replacement. It was Nieve. Graceful and delicate as a summer flower, she was riding next to the driver of a loaded supply wagon. I ran out to meet her before the wagons reached the village. “Nieve!” I called up to her. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“Aidy!” Nieve laughed. “Here, catch me!” She jumped from the moving wagon, and I steadied her with a hug as she found her feet. “Your friend, Mister Lionel, has been working on me.”
“He has a way of doing that. I should’ve warned you.”
“He convinced me that Cousin Orabella would look after me. So I’m here to relieve you, and you’re to go back on patrol. Even Mister Lionel can’t convince me to do that. Can you imagine me wearing a mail coat?”
“Maybe, if you found a way to sew flowers on it!” We both laughed, and I said, “How I wish I could stay here with you. What a time we would have together.”
“I wish you could too.” Nieve smoothed her neat hair and straightened the folds of her dark blue cloak. “You can guess I’m shaky about doing this by myself, but your orders are clear.”
“Well, you won’t be by yourself. I’ve been tutoring a promising healer here at Evergreen.” Walking arm in arm, we headed toward the village green. “Linden is his name. He already has learned much, and I’m sure he’ll be a big help to you. Also several of the women help from time to time. They’ve been a bit standoffish with me.” I grinned. “Seems they’re not quite in favor of women warriors. Maybe they’ll find you easier to get on with. I’ll introduce you to everyone and show you around the settlement. First we’ll find your cousin, and then I’ll show you the herb garden we’ve planted.”
With first light, we began our patrol westward, watching for signs of enemy activity along the border formed by the River Plevin. Riding through the green grasses along the bank, I was enthralled by the beauty of the river region. Fed by the rich deposits of soil carried along with river currents, the growth was lush and verdant. South of the river lay dense forests, everything green as far as the eye could see. Yet when I looked across the river, the Dominian side appeared brown and lifeless. I had asked Linden about it when we were at Evergreen. He’d said that all of Domaine looked that way. The whole country was in drought, but I couldn’t fathom it. How could our lands be so different, separated by no more than the span of the river?
At the beginning of our journey, the waters of the Plevin flowed so deep and swift that fording was impossible. Dominian war bands usually crossed over some distance to the west where the river was easier to ford, so it was not surprising that we came across no traces of the enemy at first. But some days into our patrol, we came across a bend in the river where currents had piled up sand and stones in such a way as to allow fording. We dismounted to study the area for signs of recent use. Sure enough the soft bank was torn up by sharp hooves.
“Sir,” said Connor, our best tracker, “look over here. These hoof prints are fresh.”
The captain stooped to study the impressions left in the moist soil. “I’d say not a half day old. What do you reckon?”
Connor followed the prints to where they ended in the river. “Yes, sir, someone crossed into Domaine this morning. Looks like no more than a dozen.” He looked up. “We could still take them, sir.”
Captain Ardleigh stared at the tracks a moment longer. “Right then. Sergeant Azar, choose twenty men and ride quickly. Leave everything here except your weapons, two day’s supply of food, and extra water. But you must go by stealth, leaving no sign of your presence. Take the war band if you can—then hightail it back. Let’s see if we can give Saduk something to think about for a change.” We all cheered at that, but the captain remained serious. “Whatever happens, I want you on this side of the river by nightfall tomorrow.”
Sergeant Azar selected his men, and the rest of us helped them strip down their packs and fill extra water bags. They forded the river and set off at a gallop. We watched after them until all we could see was a cloud of dust, and then set about making camp. Arvel and I spent a happy afternoon angling for our supper. We netted minnows for bait and caught a mess of glistening redfins, black striped with bright red tails and fins. As we were gathering our catch to take back to the campsite, Arvel said, “Too bad we had to keep our mail on. We’ll be all night drying and oiling it.”
“Then we should make it worthwhile, shouldn’t we?” He started to straighten, and I gave him a quick shove. Teetering on the edge of the bank, he grabbed for my arm, and we both went into the cold water. Laughing and splashing, we clambered up the bank and sloshed our way back to camp.
“I see you’ve been fishing,” Sergeant Torin said, eyeing our dripping condition. “You know how to throw yourselves into your work, I’ll say that for you. Best go easy when you’re gutting the fish.”
In the evening our smaller company sat around the fire and roasted the fish on green twigs. I brought up a question that had been on my mind all morning. “Do you suppose the tracks we saw were made by deserting conscripts?”
“It’s possible,” said the captain. This party was about the number that fled from us at Evergreen. They might have gone into hiding for a bit while they decided what to do.”
Sergeant Torin speared a chunk of fish and propped it over the fire, wiping his hands on the soft grass. “It may be that the people of Domaine are not so fond of war as we think.”
Tender pieces of fish were sizzling over the white embers, but I’d had my fill. I leaned back against a tree trunk. The captain poked at an apple he was cooking, turning it to the other side. “Saduk has pushed hard in the North these past years. He’s had to press many conscripts into his army to replace the Bezarqs he’s lost. Thus far, fear has served to keep them loyal, but it may not always be so.”
“It’s a rare weakness in Saduk’s armor,” I said. “I hope we may soon take advantage of it.”
“So do I,” the captain said.
Not long before dusk on the following day, we sighted our weary scou
ting party across the river. They swam their horses over at the ford, and we grabbed their reins and helped them off with their armor and kit. The men jumped knee-deep into the cold river and scooped up deep draughts with their cupped hands. After they’d splashed off the dust of Domaine, we sat them by the fire and fed them hot, roasted fish.
“We followed their trail until dark yesterday,” Sergeant Azar told us, “but they split up and went in different directions. I’ve a mind that they were deserters going back into hiding.”
“We wondered about that ourselves,” said the captain. Did you have contact with anyone?”
“Sir, we saw some villagers from a distance, but we were careful not to let them see us. Farmers were out working, but they didn’t notice us. They were thin and ragged. Looked as if they didn’t have the strength to dig up the hard earth, much less look for trouble.”
“What was it like over there?”
“Just like we’ve heard, sir. Drought everywhere. The fields were hard as paved roadways, and in the forest, hardly any birds or small creatures were about. No sign of deer or boar either. Everything was dead quiet.” Azar rubbed the back of his muscular neck. “You know I’m not a fanciful man, but it felt kind of strange over there. Like someone was looking over your shoulder all the time.” Several of his men nodded agreement. “I’m glad to be on this side of the river again.”
We prepared for sleep with less of the usual banter. Those not standing watch found a place to unroll their sleeping kit by the fire, and at the first hint of dawn we were back on our horses again. We followed the Plevin all the way to the foot of Foggy Peaks, the mountain range that formed the western portion of our border with Domaine, but we found no fresh signs of enemy activity at any of the fording places. The captain deemed it time to head back to Highfield. Not one of us was disappointed.
The trees had turned to hues of fiery red and yellow, the days growing cooler even as we traveled south. Nearing home, we spotted wood-smoke rising from the far off chimneys of Highfield. It was a clear day, and the sun glowed rosy-red on the walls of the fortress standing watch above the town. The tower shone like a jewel set in a neat, oval necklace of stone cottages surrounding the open green. I drew in a deep breath, not realizing until that moment how much I had missed home.
The tower watch marked our arrival from a distance. As we rode up the oval lane, our family and friends ran out to greet us. I slipped out of my saddle and into the arms of dear Mama and Papa, who could not stop hugging and kissing me. Arvel led Morningstar to the mews for me, and Papa picked up my shield and kit. The three of us walked back to the cottage arm in arm.
“Where is Uncle Leo?” I finally had the opportunity to ask.
“He went out this morning with his students,” Mama said, “gathering herbs somewhere, no doubt. The school of healers has grown, Aidriana. You’ll be surprised at all the students and what they’ve accomplished while you were gone.”
Mama fed me thick slices of fresh, buttered bread dripping with honey, and then I went to the smithy with Papa. I found my gloves in their usual place and was pumping away at the bellows for Papa and his apprentice Corin, when the door burst open and in rushed Uncle Leo.
“Where is she? Aha!” He lifted me up in the air and quickly stood me back down with a grunt. “That’s a lot harder than it used to be!”
“I should hope so,” I said, kissing him on both cheeks.
He looked at me in his quiet way. “How I’ve missed you! But we’ve heard excellent reports from Evergreen.”
“There’s so much to tell you—I don’t know where to start.”
“Then come spend the afternoon with me! I’m sure Daryn can spare you until tomorrow.”
“You’re stealing her already?” Papa said, but he waved me off with a smile.
I sat on an overturned clay pot in the herb garden and told Uncle Leo about my experiences on patrol, while he mulched, dug, and potted the plants that would winter indoors. He was especially interested in the healing song that called the Evergreens out of the woods. I described in detail how I’d sung the impressions that came to me.
“Your understanding of dreamsong has surpassed mine,” he said.
“How do you mean?”
He kneaded his beard for a moment. “You’ve taken the tools I’ve given you and applied them to healing a land and its people. I’ve never heard of this being done. I’m proud of you!”
I went on to ask how the healing school was doing.
“It’s a river heading into flood season,” he said. “You’ll see when you take over tomorrow. We have twenty-four now, and to think we started not long ago with Nieve as our only student. Reminds me of my days in the healing school at Ashling Keep.”
“Tell me about Ashling Keep,” I said, hopeful of getting a story out of him. “You’ve never told me enough about those times.”
“Mm.” He shoveled a rich mixture of earth and decayed matter into a pot and transferred a plant into it, tucking in the roots with more soil and adding just the right amount of water.
I sighed. Why was it always so hard to get Uncle Leo to talk? He was my only source of information about my blood family, and I’d learned remarkably little about them. In spite of all my efforts, his responses were always vague. As usual, he took so long to answer that I had to nudge him with another question.
“What was it like?”
He set aside the pot and wiped his hands on the grass. “When I was a young man at Ashling Keep, King Braedon, your grandfather of course, was High King. He believed that the restoration of the healing arts would benefit his people, so he did much to encourage the growth of the healing school. I’d already had training in warfare, but I had a desire to learn about healing too. Back then, most healers were women, so I was a bit of an oddity. But all thirty of us—”
“Thirty! I never realized there were so many.”
“Yes.” He smiled at my surprise. “We were all good friends, but I especially enjoyed the company of the master healer’s daughter, Riana, and her friend Prince Aidan.”
I was taken aback. “Was my father a healer too?”
“No, just your mother, as I’ve told you. But the three of us spent all our spare time together, riding, hunting, and enjoying the privileges of carefree youth.” Uncle Leo smiled. “We were so happy in those days. Prince Aidan’s older brother, Prince Alestar, had just gone down to rule here at the Southern Seat, and Prince Aidan missed his brother’s companionship. A deep friendship and trust was forged between us at that time. Several years later, when your grandfather died and Prince Aidan became king, he asked me to be his champion. From that day forward, I made his safety and wellbeing my highest goal. I was never parted from him but once until the day I brought you here.”
I stared at him, trying to take it all in. “So my mother was the daughter of the master healer?”
“Yes…your gift was, of course, passed on from her. She had a powerful gift, and people came to her from all over the Northlands. As it happens, she was an only child. That line ends with you also.”
“But why haven’t you told me this before?”
He frowned. “In the beginning I couldn’t take the risk. Who knows what might slip out of a young girl’s mouth that could bring trouble on our heads. And then…there was also the sadness. I didn’t want your young life to be consumed by a tragedy so far in the past.”
I’d never seen him fidget before, but he looked as if he didn’t care for the taste of his own words. I let it pass, stunned by the enormity of what he had revealed in a few calm sentences. I hadn’t understood that he was so intimate with my parents. I’d thought he was more a trusted officer than a friend, but clearly that was not the case.
“Then you were with…the queen…when she died?”
“Yes.” He picked up a trowel and began digging up a chamomile plant for potting, taking great care with its delic
ate roots.
“But why will you never tell me about her?”
He turned a crusty old clay pot on its side and rapped it with the trowel handle, knocking out clods of earth and dried-up roots. “Truthfully, I can scarcely bear to think of those times.” He looked at me, his calm face showing none of the turmoil buried inside. “But I see I must.”
“Yes, Uncle, you must.”
He fiddled with the clay pot, his dark eyes hidden beneath lowered lids. “I’ve often told you that she was a wonderful, lively, happy young woman and the most gifted healer I have ever known—perhaps excepting you. She loved to laugh, and I will never forget the sound of it. You so often remind me of her.” He met my eyes for a moment and looked away. “But what I find difficult to tell you is that she was very fragile, too fragile for the evil times that fell upon us. She took too much upon herself—the pain of the war, the pain of those who were ill, her fears for the Northlands and her husband’s safety. All of this taxed her strength, and she died of a terrible fever that no one could cure.”
He sighed and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “It’s hard to speak of this, but I don’t want to hold back what you have a right to know.” He let the trowel drop, rubbing his hands together to brush off the soil that clung to his fingers. “I said I only left the king’s side once. It was just before the queen fell ill. I saw that she looked tired before I left, so I gave her one of my tonics and said I would see her when I returned. I never imagined she would become seriously ill.
“As I told you, the times were treacherous. The king asked me to travel south and advise his constable who was in a tight place with Saduk’s forces. He sent me because I knew him so well that he trusted me to speak for him. I hated leaving him, but I could only obey his request.
“By the time I returned, Queen Riana was out of her head with fever. I’ll never forget walking into her chambers. It was a warm day, but she was shivering and had her covers piled on as if she were cold. I was shocked when I touched her skin. It was burning hot and her linens were soaked with sweat. The entire healing school was bathing, dosing, and playing healing songs, but every remedy failed her.” He stopped and stared at his hands. “Why she had to fall ill while I was gone, I will never understand. I may not have had a remedy for her had I been there…but I will never know.”