Healer's Touch

by Amy Raby

  “Is Marius with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell him we’re being hailed by two women in a jollyboat, and might one of them be the woman he’s looking for?”

  Marius scurried up the ladder.

  Chapter 35

  As Isolda reached the end of the rope ladder and scrambled over the ship’s railing, the first person she saw was Marius. He held out his hand to receive her. Emotion surged, and she felt her heart might burst. Trembling, she took his hand. He pulled her close and hugged her so hard he lifted her off her feet.

  “How did you find me?” she asked.

  “Rory came to the villa and told us what happened with Jauld,” said Marius. “And then we had some help from Caz and Vora.”

  She raised her head. “You know Caz and Vora?”

  “I do now.”

  Kjallans crammed the deck of the Frolic. They’d taken control of the ship from the Sardossians. Marius took her hand and led her away from the crowd. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to have you back. I was afraid I’d never see you again.”

  Isolda’s throat swelled, and she could hardly speak. For the past several hours, she’d had to be brave so she could focus on the problem at hand. But now the ordeal was over.

  Marius wrapped his arm around her shoulders like a blanket. “You’re safe now. We needn’t worry any longer.”

  “Where’s Rory?”

  “On the Sweep—the other ship,” he added, when she furrowed her brow.

  She glanced at the frigate which loomed nearby, hove-to. Her son was near. Soon her small family would be reunited. And they were a family, no matter what Marius’s powerful cousin thought. She’d been a fool to walk away from the marriage proposal. Marius didn’t seem to worry overmuch about the emperor, so she’d swallow her fears and brave the man’s dislike. She would convince him somehow that she and Marius were right for each other.

  She’d overcomplicated things, worrying about family, class, her nationality. But tonight she had fought for her life and for the people she loved. Primal acts had a way of stripping away everything that didn’t matter. What mattered? That she loved Marius, and Marius loved her. Their love had substance; everything else was but a detail. Issues such as class and citizenship could not be simply ignored; she and Marius would have to deal with them. But deal with them they would, because they loved each other.

  “It was Jauld who abducted me,” she told Marius. “He wanted to take me back to Sardos.”

  Marius stroked her hair. “Well, he didn’t succeed. How did you manage to steal the jollyboat?”

  “Luck, mostly. Our plan was to row to shore and walk back to Riat.”

  “Our plan?”

  She’d forgotten about Chari. Glancing back, she saw the younger woman hanging off the railing on the rope ladder, handing her older son to a Kjallan sailor. Another Kjallan already held the baby. “I escaped with Chari, Jauld’s second wife.”

  His brows rose. “The woman who treated you so badly in Sardos?”

  “I had a similar reaction when she showed up in my cabin. It turned out she wanted to get away too, and she thought we’d be better off running together. She wants to emigrate to Kjall with her children.”

  “That won’t happen,” said Marius. “We’ll send her back to Sardos where she belongs.”

  “Please don’t,” said Isolda. “I don’t like her, but without her I might never have gotten away. She gave me a pistol.”

  “Was there a fight?”

  “Yes. I shot...oh, gods.” She’d forgotten about Jauld, whom she’d abandoned in the cabin, having no idea if he was alive or dead. “I shot Jauld.”

  Marius hardly even blinked. “Is he dead?”

  “He might be. I was trying to hide the gun from him in a bit of cloth. He tried to take it from me, so I shot him and ran.”

  “Gods above. Are you hurt at all?” He lifted her chin with his finger to examine her face.

  She shook her head.

  “Shall I find out if Jauld survived?” asked Marius.

  Isolda nodded.

  Marius signaled to a young principal, explained the situation, and asked him to search the ship for a Sardossian named Jauld with a gunshot wound.

  A well-dressed woman walked up to them and extended her hand to Isolda. “Here she is, the lady of the hour. I’m glad you’ve returned to us safe and sound.”

  It took Isolda a moment to figure out who she was: Kolta, the woman who’d spoken to her in the surgery about the gunpowder factories. Which meant that, gods, she was the Kjallan empress. What did one do in this situation? Isolda dropped to her knees, hoping that was correct. “Your Imperial Majesty,” she stammered.

  Empress Vitala took her hand and pulled her back to her feet. “I heard you might be joining our family soon.”

  Isolda tried to speak, but her tongue got in the way.

  “I believe you’ll make Marius a happy man,” said Vitala. “It takes courage to run away from everything you’ve ever known. You remind me of a girl from Riorca I once knew.”

  “Marius,” called a man’s voice from nearby.

  The newcomer was black-haired and dressed in a fine silk syrtos. One of his shoes thumped on the wooden deck while the other was silent, giving him a syncopated gait. As he approached the group, he slipped an arm around Empress Vitala, which shocked Isolda until she realized he was the man she’d seen at a distance that night at the villa: Marius’s cousin, the emperor.

  “We’ve got business to discuss,” said Emperor Lucien. “The sailors are transferring the gunpowder to the Sweep. After that, I think we’ll let these smugglers limp home in their crippled ship. What say you?”

  Isolda was lost. Gunpowder? Smugglers?

  Lucien caught her eye. “Are you Isolda, whom we’ve heard so much about?”

  Belatedly, Isolda sank to her knees. “Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.”

  “Rise,” he said, and she obeyed. He extended his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, she clasped his wrist. He smiled. “It’s wonderful to meet you at last—I’ve heard so much about you. Marius said you transformed his business at the surgery.”

  Vitala spoke. “Allow me to thank you again for the information you gave us about the gunpowder factories. We’ve taken Galbus into custody. He had indeed started a third gunpowder factory, which we shut down only days ago. He faces trial next week. But it appears his people managed to smuggle out one last shipment.”

  “Smuggle it out—you mean on this ship?”

  Vitala nodded. “The Sweep’s officers found gunpowder hidden within wine crates in the hold.”

  Isolda’s stomach went hollow. “My lady, are you saying that the gunpowder we manufactured was destined for export to Sardos?”

  “The final batch was. I can’t speak for all of it.”

  Isolda swayed on her feet. She’d always thought the gunpowder she’d helped manufacture went to supply the Kjallan army, where it did no harm, at least for now, because Kjall was not at war with anyone. But if it was going to Sardos, it was fueling the blood wars. Her work in Kjall had been killing her countrymen at home.

  Lucien turned to Marius. “The Sardossians don’t have a Healer on board. Do you want to help their people before we give them back their ship?”

  “Oh—three gods!—I was so focused on getting Isolda back that I never thought about the wounded sailors.” Marius turned his head to look around the deck.

  “They’re below, in custody. Glaucus can take you,” said Lucien.

  Marius turned to Isolda. “Do you mind if I spend some time healing the Sardossians before we go?”

  “I’ll come with you and help.”

  ∞

  The hold was full of injured Sardossians. Marius asked Isolda to handle triage, assessing each man’s condition so that she could bring him the most urgent cases first.

  But before they could begin work, a principal slipped up beside them. “We’ve identified a man we think may be Jauld.”

  “I
s he alive?” asked Marius.

  “No,” said the principal. “Shall I take you to the body?”

  “Do you want to go?” Marius asked Isolda.

  She gritted her teeth. “Later. These men need help.”

  “If the dead man is Jauld, you’re not to blame for what happened,” said Marius. “You were only defending yourself.”

  “I’m not sorry I shot at him,” said Isolda. “Last time Jauld had a gun in his hand, he pointed it at Rory and hit me on the head with it. But I wish it hadn’t ended this way—if indeed the dead man is him.”

  Marius squeezed her hand, and they went to work.

  He extracted fat splinters of wood impaled in sailors’ bodies, pinched off blood vessels, flushed and sealed wounds, dug bullets and bits of cloth out of singed flesh, and closed sword cuts. As he stabilized the worst cases and began to deal with the more routine ones, Isolda sat with him, translating when his patient had a question. Her presence was a comfort, all the more so now that he’d had the opportunity to experience life without her. Before she ran off again, he had to convince her to come back to the surgery—and to accept his marriage proposal.

  He spoke to her in Kjallan, knowing that Drusus would be able to listen in but not many of the Sardossians would. “I heard you got a bookkeeping job.”

  Isolda’s face flushed. “I did—at the docks. I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to disappear without saying a word.”

  “What would it take for me to lure you back? Shall I double your pay?”

  “You’d have to raise your rates if you did that.”

  “Consider it done,” said Marius.

  “But your patients—” she began.

  Marius looked at her. “I saw where you live.”

  She winced. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

  “You deserve better,” said Marius. “I thought I paid you enough to rent an apartment somewhere. Did I not?”

  “You did,” said Isolda. “It was my choice to live there. I told you, I’m saving for Rory’s education.”

  Marius blinked. “How much have you saved?”

  “Eight hundred tetrals so far.”

  “Eight hundred? Three gods!” That was a small fortune, enough to pay for Rory’s first year at the university. “Where do you keep it?” When she hesitated, looking around the room, he raised his hand. “Sorry, don’t tell me. Nobody should know but you.”

  Still, he was astonished. Here was a woman who took no luxuries for herself, not even the luxury of a home, in order that she might give her son a future. It was remarkable. It was heroic. And it was profoundly sad. “I cannot bear that you should live in the underground any longer. If you won’t marry me, please allow me to rent you an apartment near the surgery. And to take you shopping for a new wardrobe—not that you’re not lovely in what you’re wearing now. But you’ve done so much for Rory. I think it’s time someone did something for you.”

  Isolda made a choked noise.

  At the moment, he could not look at her—he was healing a sword cut, watching the seams of the wound knit themselves together—but he listened, and he soon ascertained that she was fighting tears. “Please say yes.”

  She spoke softly. “Is your offer of marriage still available?”

  “Of course it is,” said Marius. “Say yes to that, too. But what about Caz?”

  “Caz?” She looked up at him in surprise. “What’s he got to do with anything?”

  “He says he’s your friend, and that he got you the bookkeeping job. I was wondering how close a friend he was.”

  “Oh—not that close,” said Isolda. “I might have liked him if I hadn’t fallen for you. But he has no interest in me, not like you’re thinking.”

  “Perhaps you underestimate his interest,” said Marius.

  “It wouldn’t matter, since I want only you,” said Isolda. “But he spends his Sage’s Days at the Green and Yellow.”

  “The Green and Yellow?”

  “She’s saying Caz likes men,” growled Drusus.

  Marius blinked. “How is it that you two know about the Green and Yellow, and I don’t?”

  “She lives in the underground,” said Drusus. “And I read books.”

  “Well, then.” Marius let his breath out. “Does that mean your answer is yes?”

  Isolda aimed that smile at him, the one that made him go weak in the knees. “Of course.”

  Marius leaned over to kiss her, and Isolda flung her arms around him. He heard a smattering of applause—apparently a few of the Sardossians did understand Kjallan. His cheeks warmed, yet he couldn’t stop grinning. When they parted, he said, “I believe the only obstacle remaining is getting you a legal citizenship. I think Lucien may grant it. He’s met you now, and he seems to like you.”

  “His wife was friendly,” said Isolda.

  “If you win over the empress, you’ll win over Lucien,” said Marius.

  Chapter 36

  When they were finished healing most of the sailors, Isolda went with a Kjallan officer to identify Jauld’s body. It was indeed her former husband—and he lay exactly where she’d left him, in the room where she’d been imprisoned. Heavy of heart, she went up on deck to look for Marius. Instead she spotted Rory, whom someone must have brought over from the other ship. He stood by the railing, apart from the others. When he saw her, he ran to her.

  She took his hand. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but your father is dead. We had a confrontation on the ship after he kidnapped me. We were fighting over a gun, and...” She trailed off, unable to finish.

  “He should have just left you alone,” said Rory. “Do we get to stay in Riat?”

  She hugged him. “I hope so.”

  Together, Isolda and Rory waited for Marius to return from the hold. The imperials were in a tight group, surrounded by orange-garbed guards, talking amongst themselves. Chari stood alone, clutching the hand of her older boy and cradling the younger. She looked frightened but determined.

  Boats plied back and forth between the two ships, transferring men back onto the Soldier’s Sweep. The long night was coming to an end. Low clouds on the eastern horizon were beginning to turn pink. Isolda shivered and clutched Rory tighter.

  Finally, Marius emerged from below decks. He looked around, spotted the two of them, and walked over. “The officers told me about Jauld. How are you doing?”

  “Well enough.” Isolda had thought she would grieve; after all, she and Jauld had made a child together, built a life together. But she didn’t. Perhaps it was because they’d never truly forged a bond. She’d never chosen him, and he’d chosen her only because her bride-price was low. There had never been any love, so there was little for her to mourn.

  Instead, she felt weightless, free at last, like the seagulls circling the ship’s mainmast. Jauld would never again come to Kjall to claim her. She was a widow, a single woman, free to bestow her love where she chose.

  “Rory?” said Marius gently. “I’m sorry about your father.”

  The boy scrubbed his face with the back of his hand. “He deserved to die. For trying to take my mother away.”

  Isolda hugged him tighter and then reached for Marius, including him in the hug. Her little family, such as it was. “Let’s go home,” she said.

  ∞

  By the time they had everyone transferred back to the Soldier’s Sweep, the sun was up. It was morning, and Isolda was exhausted. She’d been up most of the night, as had the Kjallans who’d rescued her. Now that she saw how many of them there were, she marveled at it. Hundreds of Kjallans, including the emperor and empress, had roused themselves and put their lives at risk to chase down the Frolic and retrieve her.

  Marius had said the emperor would grant her citizenship, and she could not wait for that to become official. She might look Sardossian, but she was becoming Kjallan in her heart. And Rory, who’d been here since the age of four, was more Kjallan than she.

  Chari had come over to the Sweep with them. Her children had fallen a
sleep, and she was sitting with them on the deck, leaning against the railing. The four-year-old was sleeping with his head on her lap, and the infant dozed in her arms. Chari herself was wide awake.

  Marius had gone to speak to the emperor, and Rory had been invited by the sailors to shinny up the mainmast and learn how the sails worked. Since Isolda was alone for the moment, she went to Chari and sat next to her. “Did you hear about Jauld?”

  “What about him?” asked Chari.

  “He’s dead,” said Isolda. “He came at me in the cabin, and I shot him.”

  “Oh.” Chari’s brows rose, and she was silent for a moment. “Well, I won’t miss him.”

  “Do you know what you’re going to do when we get to Riat?”

  Chari shook her head. “I’ll figure something out.”

  “See that man over there?” Isolda pointed at Caz, who had instantly befriended the Kjallan sailors and was now standing amongst a group of them, talking and laughing about something.

  Chari nodded.

  “His name is Caz. When the ship docks, I want you to go with him. He can show you the place I used to live in the underground. I won’t be staying there anymore, so you can have the space if you want it. It’s relatively safe. You’d be lodging with a woman named Vora and an old man who doesn’t cause any trouble.”

  “Thank you,” said Chari.

  “Good luck.” Isolda rose, because Marius had left his imperial friends and was beckoning to her.

  The return trip was a short one. Apparently the Frolic had not gone far before the Sweep had intercepted it, and now that the sun was up, the wind had freshened to speed them on their way. By midmorning, they were anchored in the harbor and taking boats back to land. Isolda, because she was with Marius and the imperial party, had the privilege of being on the first boat. Intimidated by the company, she settled in the back row and said nothing.

  At the docks, two carriages waited for them—the same two she’d seen that evening when they came to the villa. Isolda and Rory were ushered into the front carriage, along with Marius and the emperor and empress. Here, the confines were so tight that she could not avoid scrutiny by the imperial couple.