by Sharon Hinck
Tara hurried to a cupboard in her kitchen alcove and pulled out a small gourd. “Have they sent for a healer?”
Dustin nodded.
“Well, I’d better go too.” Tara grabbed her cloak from a peg, moving quickly for someone of her age. “Linette, you stay here and take care of . . . wait, where did he go?”
I spun. The boy had slipped away while we’d been talking. I ran to the open door and caught sight of him racing through the village, his little bare feet barely leaving an impression on the packed earth. Where was he going?
I took off after him, vaguely aware that Tara was following right behind. As we all headed in the same direction, I realized the boy was running toward the lehkan plateau where the guardians trained. How did he know where to run if he wasn’t from our clan?
He had such a head start that I didn’t get close until we reached the plateau where a group of young guardians clustered on the side of the field.
I tried to catch his hand to pull him away, but the boy slipped into the silent group without their notice. They moved aside as I approached. Wade lay crumpled on the ground, his trousers and the side of his tunic dark with blood. More worrying, his leg bent at an unnatural angle and seemed crushed beyond repair. I didn’t have to be a healer to know he’d probably lose the leg.
“Oh, Wade.”
Although his face was drawn with pain, he managed a crooked grin. “You remember me?”
Eyes stinging, I nodded. “What happened?”
“Showing the first-years . . .” He caught his breath. “How not to lead . . . a cavalry charge.” He tried a shallow chuckle, but broke off as he gritted his teeth against the pain. “No more than I deserve.”
I knelt beside him, my brow wrinkling. “What you deserve?”
“Failed again.”
“I’m sure this wasn’t your fault.”
He winced. “I promised to protect their house. I failed.”
Had the pain and shock made him delirious? “None of the other guardians were hurt.” I glanced up at the circle of faces for confirmation. They nodded in agreement, as confused as I was.
“Jake. I failed Jake,” he gasped out. “I told Markkel I’d protect him with my life, but . . .” He lost breath for more words. Shock and blood loss made his limbs shudder, and the movement elicited a deep groan. His eyes squeezed shut.
I had no idea what he was talking about, but his distress couldn’t be helping his poor trampled body. “You’ve done fine. This was just an accident.”
The little boy appeared at my side, pressing against me to ease closer to Wade.
“No, little one. Get back.” I wanted to cover the boy’s eyes against the heartbreaking sight of a strong, faithful guardian bleeding his life into the earth.
Before I could pull him back, the boy rested his small hand gently on Wade’s forehead. The shuddering stopped.
Wade’s eyes flew open. “I can’t feel them anymore.” His hand reached toward the mangled muscle and bone that had been his leg.
“Shh.” I took his hand. “Just rest. Help is coming.”
“Give the man some air.” Tara elbowed her way past guardians, huffing from exertion. “And why hasn’t a healer arrived yet? The lodge isn’t that far away. Linette, get that child away from here.”
The boy moved back, making room for Tara. After doing a quick assessment of Wade’s injuries, she propped his head up a few inches and helped him drink from the small gourd she carried. “It’ll help the pain.”
I was watching Wade’s face anxiously and at first didn’t notice that the child hadn’t withdrawn but had repositioned himself by Wade’s legs. The boy looked up into the soft grey sky above us. I glanced up but saw nothing. Before I could draw him away, he placed both his small chubby hands on Wade’s leg.
“No!” I snatched him away, horrified to see blood covering the tiny innocent hands.
One of the men gasped, probably as shocked as I was by the child’s strange response to an injured man.
“Shades of Shamgar,” another man murmured.
“Not possible.”
The whole group stood unmoving, as if they were holding a collective breath. The ring of faces grew wide-eyed, but they weren’t looking at the boy and me. They were all staring at Wade.
Following their gazes to Wade’s legs, I squinted. Had I misjudged the injury? His leg wasn’t as crushed as I’d thought. It must have been my worry or a trick of the light. Perhaps a divot in the soft earth had hidden part of the limb and made it seem more twisted than it had been?
Still fussing at Wade’s head, Tara hadn’t noticed the sudden tension and stunned silence of the men. “Look,” she said with some pride, “his color is already improving. Now get a pallet. We’ll need two men to carry him to the healer’s lodge.” When no one moved, she rose, ready to scold with all her grandmotherly fury. Then she, too, stopped short.
Wade moved his legs. “Hey, I can feel them again.”
“What did you do?” Tara asked me.
I shook my head, too stunned to answer.
“He’s been healed,” one of the men said. His gaze settled on me. “But how?”
“It was the boy.” A guardian apprentice spoke in a voice edged with accusation. “Look at his hands.”
I used the hem of my robe to wipe the blood away from the boy’s hands and found my voice. “He didn’t do anything.”
“It was him. I saw it,” one of the men said. “Who is he?”
Tara watched the boy for a moment, worry deepening the lines between her eyes. “We don’t know.”
“He looks like a Rhusican,” someone muttered.
“And you know the tricks they play.”
I swept him up into my arms, confronting the semicircle of men. The child’s head nestled against my shoulder, his curls soft under my chin. “He’s just a lost little boy. You should be thanking the One that Wade’s legs weren’t hurt as badly as we thought.”
“Agreed,” Wade said loudly. He eased up to his elbows, waggled one foot and then the other, and laughed. He edged up the hem of his bloodstained tunic and touched his side, which showed no evidence of a wound. “Now someone go meet the healer and send him back to the lodge. We won’t be needing him.”
But the murmurs continued. “This isn’t right.”
“Get that boy out of our clan.”
I tightened my grip on the child and began humming a quiet lullaby, hoping to drown out the harsh words of the men. My clan already distrusted me because I’d been to Hazor and because of my past confusion and memory loss. What could I say to stop this build of suspicion?
“Ask the songkeeper,” someone said.
I lifted my chin, ready to answer, but then realized they were looking past me. Lukyan slowly made his way up the path from the village. The young men clamored to tell him what they’d seen and their fear that some Rhusican deception was at work.
“Did any of you talk to the One when Wade was trampled?” Lukyan leaned heavily on his staff. “As soon as I heard, I begged the One for His mercy.”
A few nodded.
“So why are you all so surprised that he was healed? Why ask the One for healing if you don’t believe He will answer?”
One young man shuffled his feet. “Sure, He answers. But this was different. That boy . . .”
“We all saw it,” a first-year said, shooting a dark look toward me. “What kind of boy would touch an open wound? This was—”
“I’m your elder songkeeper.” Even the guardians stepped back as all signs of frailty vanished in the blaze of Lukyan’s eyes. “Have I ever led you into harm? Let me worry about the boy. You go back to your training, and praise the One for His gift to Wade.”
Wade lurched to his feet, clearly tired of being the object of debate. “Let the songkeepers figure this out. Get back to your mounts. Where
did my lehkan run off to? Poor thing needs some comforting. He’s probably blaming himself for the collision and wants to know I’m all right.” He winked at me.
Gratitude and warmth filled me, along with a fresh surge of joy at knowing I could remember people again. In the past days, I’d known I was supposed to love Tara and Kendra and Lukyan, and all the others of the clan. But love as an act of will wasn’t nearly as satisfying as spontaneous love welling up over a foundation of memories. I loved these people, these prairie grasses, even the smelly lehkan.
Wade lumbered off to check on his beast while Tara marched along beside him, pestering him to let her check his wounds. He waved off her concern, and seemed oblivious to the sticky blood coating his trousers.
A sudden picture flashed in my mind of Kieran’s wound seeping blood through his bandage, and how he’d mocked me for feeling faint. Today I’d been heartsick at Wade’s injury and how his life would be forever changed without use of his legs. But I’d never felt dizzy or faint. Why had Kieran’s wound troubled me so much?
Lukyan rested a hand gently on the boy’s head. “It’s almost time for the season-end gathering. I had thought the journey too hard on these old bones, but this is one gathering I cannot miss. We’ll leave in the morning.”
I looked over the curly head at my teacher’s wrinkled face. “I’m coming too.” It wasn’t a question or suggestion. I’d found the boy, and I would care for him until we found his family.
Lukyan nodded slowly. “If you can pry Tara away from Wade, please ask her if I may invite myself to dinner tonight. I think we all need to talk.”
That night the long common-room table was crowded, and Tara was in her element, bustling back and forth from the kitchen alcove. Payton occupied his place at the table’s head. Lukyan and I sat on either side of the small child. We were far removed from the dark, speculative murmurs of the guardians, but I still felt protective. Kendra held Emmi against her shoulder on the other side of Lukyan. Across from us, Talia and Gareth sat beside their children, Dustin and Aubrey. Although Tara introduced everyone to the boy I’d found, Talia turned up her hard-edged nose and ignored him. Even with many of my memories restored, I couldn’t recall a single warm conversation I’d had with her. She seemed to have inherited all of Tara’s forcefulness with none of her maternal warmth.
“I’m ready to agree with you,” Tara said to Lukyan, as she carried a caradoc roast to the table. “Some in the clan are still upset about what happened. It might actually be safer for the boy if you take him to Lyric. If his family comes looking for him, I’ll tell them where he is and send a messenger to you.”
A firm rap sounded at the door, and Wade stuck his head in from the doorway. “Mmmm. I knew you were making your famous roast. I smelled it all the way up on the plateau.”
Tara sniffed, still annoyed that he hadn’t allowed her fussing earlier. “Well, if you’re inviting yourself to dinner, I’m glad you changed your clothes.”
He chuckled and approached my side of the table. He lightly punched the boy’s shoulder. “And how’s our little apprentice healer?”
“He seems all right,” I offered.
Wade scratched his sparse beard. “What’s his name?”
I wiped a smudge of dirt from the boy’s chin. “We don’t know. He hasn’t spoken.”
Wade settled down beside me, his bulk making the bench sag. “Well you can’t keep calling him stranger.” He leaned past me and grinned at the child. “He’s quiet as a baby caradoc. You could call him Caralad.”
A herder’s nickname for young boys who cared for grazing animals. I smiled as silent laughter lit the brown eyes that gazed up at me. “Caralad it is.”
Payton invited Wade to thank the One for the meal and the blessings of the day. A flush crept up the guardian’s neck, but he mumbled fervent thanks for the food as well as for the miraculous recovery he’d experienced.
As food was passed around, he leaned close and spoke in a low voice. “So you remember everything now?”
My heart warmed at his interest. With the puzzle of the homeless child and then Wade’s emergency, the news of my memory returning had been pushed to the background.
I shook my head, probing those walls that still blocked me from accessing some parts of my life. “Before today, my life as I knew it began in the shrine in Hazor. Kieran told me some things about my past when we were traveling here, but it was like hearing about a stranger. And since I had a fever, most of what he told me is fuzzy anyway. But today it began to unfold. I remembered my childhood, my parents, the ache when they died, the joy of studying to be a songkeeper, the people of Braide Wood, the honor of leading worship in the tower as an apprentice in Lyric . . .” Again, I ran into the barrier, although it felt spongy and no longer like firm stone. “But there are still several years missing.”
Wade puffed out his chest. “Well, you remember me again, so I’d say you’ve got the important facts back.”
I giggled.
He leaned his bulky arms on the table and looked at me intently. “But you really don’t remember the time we had to make camp at night on the way from the transport, and I fought the bear?”
Was he spinning a tale? Surely I hadn’t made camp at night. No sane person would leave the shelter of a village too close to dark. I closed my eyes and felt around for any hints of that and shook my head.
“I’d be happy to fill you in . . .”
“Wade, have another slice of roast,” Tara said quickly. She and Lukyan exchanged a look. What were they hiding? Couldn’t I have a little time to enjoy all the progress that I’d made today without worrying about the remaining gaps?
I frowned at my plate. Lukyan reached over and patted my hand. “Child, be patient. The healers told us not to force this, to let you recall things in your own time. They said you’d remember everything when you were ready.”
“I am ready.” Frustration filled my chest, and I grabbed my mug as if cool water could drench the anger. Since arriving in Braide Wood, I’d been drowning in furtive glances, whispers, undercurrents I couldn’t translate—even from the people I was closest to. The One had healed me through this special child’s touch. But if that were true, why wasn’t the healing complete? And why wouldn’t my friends just tell me the missing pieces? The healers shouldn’t be meddling. What did they know about the damage of Hazorite drug patches? I took a long drink and set my mug down with the thump.
A small hand reached for mine. Caralad’s eyes met mine with sympathy, but then brightened as he smiled. He didn’t have to speak. Love and encouragement flowed from his gaze. The tangle of unanswered questions melted away and my shoulders relaxed.
Kendra balanced Emmi in one arm and started a basket of small bread loaves around the table, then turned to me. “Will you take a message to Tristan for me? He’s staying with Tag and her family.”
I smiled. “Do you trust my memory?” I was only half joking.
She grinned. “I’ll keep it short. ‘Finish trying to solve all the clans’ problems and come home.’”
Everyone laughed, but again I felt anxious undercurrents. Kendra longed to be by Tristan’s side, but for some reason he felt Lyric was too dangerous. My only memories of Lyric were of glorious worship and festive gatherings, and I couldn’t imagine what had happened in the past few years to bring so much change. In spite of the healers’ advice to take things slowly, I needed to find out.
After the meal, Caralad settled in a corner of the common room, joining a table game with Dustin and Aubrey, while Kendra nursed Emmi in a chair nearby. I took advantage of the quiet moment to follow Wade outside to the porch.
He sank onto a stool and stretched his legs out in front of him, then gave a start when I pulled a chair over to sit beside him.
“So you and Lukyan are taking Caralad to Lyric in the morning?” he asked.
I nodded.
“I
wish I could travel with you,” he said. “I’ll go to Lyric for the gathering, but the first-years are so unsettled by the accident that I need to stay here another day first.”
I was glad he’d brought up the fall. “Wade, when you were hurt, you said you deserved it. What were you talking about? Who is Jake?”
He cleared his throat and glanced back toward the door. “Maybe you’ve remembered enough for today?”
Poor man. The healers didn’t want him telling me about my past, but he needed someone to confide in. I’d seen the tortured guilt in his face, a pain worse than the trampled leg. “You don’t have to tell me anything about the years I can’t remember. Just explain what’s happened in the clans since I’ve been in Hazor. I can tell everyone is upset, but they aren’t telling me anything.”
His shoulders relaxed and he tilted back to lean against the log wall of the house. “I guess that wouldn’t break any stupid healer advice.”
I laughed. “Good thing you didn’t need their help today, with that attitude.”
“Too true.” He rubbed his leg and turned his foot from side to side, a bemused expression on his face. “What do you make of it? Why would the One heal me? And do you think the boy had anything to do with it?”
I leaned back beside him, looking out at the trees turning deeper shades of green and brown as the sky dimmed. “One answer is simple. The One healed you because He loves you.”
“How could He, when . . .”
Good, we were getting to the root of his pain. I waited.
He let his breath out in a huff. “While you were in Hazor, things were going well. Jake—the new Restorer—” He shot me a sideways glance. “Well, that’s a long story. But I was pledged to be his house protector. Then one day he disappeared. Mind you, that whole family has a way of disappearing and popping up unexpectedly. But I knew something bad must have happened, because Cameron disappeared at the same time.”
“And since then you’ve blamed yourself?”
His round face tightened. “Of course. And now there’s chaos in Lyric again, and rumors of another war with Hazor. The songkeepers are arguing about what it all means, the councilmembers are forming factions and debating how to protect the clans, Tristan and Kieran are in the thick of it all. And none of this would be happening if Jake . . . if I’d . . .”