I guess our emotions must be like a bright light to Kazy’s ghirit, Tarc thought. Or, maybe more like a loud sound, since they seem to have wakened her right through the walls and floor.
Kazy stepped a little closer.
Tarc felt Nylin relax in his arms. She calmed Nylin, Tarc thought, not sure whether it was right to mess with someone’s emotions, no matter how painful they were. Then, to Tarc’s surprise, Kazy backed away and went back out the door. She went all the way back across the room then turned and started back toward the kitchen. This time she certainly didn’t seem to be trying to do so quietly. In fact, it sounded like she was deliberately making more noise.
Nylin stiffened a little, then relaxed her arms and backed away a few inches. She looked up at Tarc and hoarsely said, “Thank you. That was… Comforting. Very relaxing.” She stepped back to her dough and started kneading it again.
Tarc wondered whether it was cheating to let her think he’d relaxed her. Kazy’d obviously been the one who did it. Of course, we can’t give up Kazy’s secret, so I guess I’ll just have to let her think it was me. Thinking of Ms. Gates advice, he tentatively said, “I think you’re very pretty…” He immediately thought, No! That was so clumsy. And this wasn’t the right time to do it either!
Kazy opened the door to the kitchen and stepped inside, saying, “Hi Nylin. Hi Tarc,” as if there were nothing unusual about finding them in the kitchen kneading dough.
Nylin had frozen in position. Tarc wasn’t sure whether it was because he’d said something as stupid as “I think you’re pretty” or because she was embarrassed to have Kazy come in on them. Then Nylin turned to look up into his eyes once again. She said, “Thank you,” in a tone so freighted with emotion that his heart did a little flip-flop.
He wasn’t sure whether he was sad that those five words had meant so much to her, or ecstatic that they did. I guess that crotchety old woman knew what she was talking about, he thought. “You’re welcome,” he whispered.
Nylin turned to Kazy and said cheerfully, “Good morning Kazy. I’m brewing willow bark tea for Tarc’s headache and he’s helping me knead the dough.” She glanced back over her shoulder, “Oops. The water’s boiling. I’d better start steeping your bark Tarc.” She snorted a little laugh as she turned to the stove, “I made a rhyme!”
Tarc looked at Kazy who looked like she was doing her best to choke back hysterical laughter. “Good morning cousin,” he said, then tried to glare at her like she’d been glaring at him recently.
He resumed kneading the dough.
When Nylin returned and started kneading her dough, she quietly spoke to Tarc out of the side of her mouth, “I am angry. I constantly find myself fantasizing about how I’m going to go back and kill the rest of the Ragas.” She snorted ruefully, “As if I could.”
“Oh,” Tarc said, matching her quiet tone, “They’re already dead.” Then he thought, I wish I could take those words back! In the first place, the Hyllises didn’t really want people outside the family to know they’d killed all the Ragas. In the second, he didn’t know whether learning she’d been avenged was the right thing for her psychological state.
Nylin just kept kneading the bread for a while. When she spoke, it was to say calmly, “If only that were true.”
Tarc softly snorted, Guess I got that wish…
***
Everyone was hard at work, cooking and trying to get the main room ready for serving.
A pounding came on the door of the tavern.
Daussie’d been allowed to sleep a little later than usual and had just come in from the outhouse. Her first thought was that someone was bringing them another stricken patient and that they didn’t have enough sterile saline. Her second thought was that one of the men should open the door if someone was pounding on it. What if it were ruffians, or robbers, or, worse, the Guardia come to arrest them for using witchery on their man?
Then she remembered what Tarc had said about her being the most dangerous of the Hyllises. Gathering resolve, she strode to the door, shot the bolt, and—while gathering her breath to bark at them for disturbing the peace—pulled it open a little.
She paused. It was a distraught young woman, red-eyed and looking as if she were at her wit's end. “Can I help you?” Daussie asked gently.
“Is Jimmy really here?” the woman asked, a desperate look in her eyes. The word “here” carried a measure of disgust. Daussie hoped it related to the reputation of their tavern when it’d been the Hidden Underground.
Jimmy must be our patient from last night, Daussie thought, wishing she’d checked to see how the man was doing before rushing down to the outhouse. I should’ve at least asked mom, she thought. To the woman at the door, she said, “Jimmy?”
“Jimmy Nantz, from the Guardia. He didn’t come home last night. They told me he got hurt and that Vyrda Soh had him brought here?”
Daussie nodded, “He was stabbed, a bad injury.” She glanced up the stairs, “We did all we—”
The woman gasped, “He died?!”
“No!” Daussie glanced up the stairs again, wishing she knew how he was doing this morning. She didn’t want to say he was doing well and be proved a liar.
The woman pushed past her, “Let me see!” She glanced around the room and realized that Daussie’d been looking at the stairs. She ran for them.
“Wait!” Daussie said, running after her, “Let me…” She paused when she realized nothing was going to stop the woman. Besides, Eva always said not to sugarcoat the news of how someone was doing. It just made them angrier if the patient didn’t do well. Instead, she called up the stairs, “Eva! Our patient’s…” she hesitated, not knowing what the relationship was, then continued, “his wife’s coming up to see him.”
Daussie climbed the stairs behind the woman, but she was tired and the woman was fueled with adrenalin. Daussie arrived at Jimmy’s room several steps behind the woman.
Daussie’s eyes first went to her mother. Eva looked tired from staying up most of the night with the patient. She’d recognized that the prodigious use of their talents on the man in the middle of the night had exhausted Daussie and Kazy almost as much as it had Tarc. She’d insisted that she be the one to sit with the patient, not the younger people. Not just for their benefit. He needed someone checking on him frequently and they’d likely fall asleep no matter their good intentions. Vyrda’d waited with Eva’s and they’d stayed awake in shifts, but with Vyrda having little experience, Daussie expected her mother had been up more than their new healer.
Daussie’s eyes swept to their patient. Jimmy was propped up on pillows, looking wan, but not as bad as Daussie’d expected. He even had a little smile for the woman who’d just stopped a meter from his bed. She dropped to her knees just short of him, saying “Jimmy? Are you okay?”
“I’ve been better,” he said carefully. “I thought I was a goner.”
“I just heard this morning,” the woman said plaintively, “or I would’ve been here at your side.”
“What’d you think when I didn’t come home?”
“That you’d gotten drunk like your friends do,” the woman said unhappily. She glanced around the room, taking in Eva, Vyrda, and seeing Daussie standing right behind her. She indicated Daussie with a jerk of her head, “She told me you got stabbed. Where?”
“In the Odd Duck,” Jimmy said with a faint grin.
“You know what I meant,” the woman said sounding pinched.
“Somewhere in here,” Jimmy said, pointing to the right side of his upper abdomen.
The woman fell. It happened slowly enough that Daussie was able to catch her under the arms and slow her impact on the floor. Rolling her onto her back, Daussie saw she was unconscious. Assuming she’d merely fainted, Daussie lifted her legs to send more blood to her brain. Vyrda and Eva quickly knelt over the woman. Daussie assumed they were sending in their ghirits as well.
Daussie’s ghirit found the woman’s pulse rate was slightly slowed and the pulsations
themselves were weak, as if she had low blood pressure—typical for fainting.
Eva looked up, relieved, saying, “She’s only passed out.” Daussie and Vyrda both nodded.
The woman moaned and lifted her head.
Eva said, “Stay on the floor for a minute.”
Vyrda leaned into the woman’s field of view and said, “Mary, you fainted. We think Jimmy’s going to be okay. Even though he got stabbed in the belly, the blade didn’t hit anything important.”
Mary stared up at her and said, “And how would you know that?”
Vyrda shrugged, “It’s a healer’s business to know.” She indicated Eva, “This is Ms. Hyllis. She’s the best healer I’ve ever seen. She agrees that the knife didn’t hit anything important.”
“Well,” Eva said, “it did hit his liver and caused a lot of bleeding. But the bleeding’s stopped now. I think Jimmy’s got a good chance of recovering.”
Mary sat up and looked at Jimmy. He gave her another weak, tentative smile. Getting to her knees, she moved closer, then looked at Vyrda, “Can I touch him?”
Vyrda nodded, “Just don’t touch his stomach area.”
Mary leaned closer, holding Jimmy about the shoulders and touching her cheek to his. Though she spoke softly, Daussie was able to hear her tell Jimmy she loved him. He responded in kind. After a moment, Mary stood and hugged Vyrda, then Eva. “Thank you for all you’ve done for him. May I take him home?”
Looking surprised, they both shook their heads. Eva said, “I think it’d be much better if he stayed here with us for a couple of days so we can watch for problems.”
When Daussie went back downstairs, she found Farlin talking to a couple of men in uniforms. Guardia, she thought. When he saw her, he said, “These men are here asking after one of their fellow soldiers—”
“Guardsmen,” one of the men interrupted.
Farlin glanced at the man, then continued, “Guardsmen. They say he was brought here last night?”
Daussie was surprised to realize Farlin had slept through the commotion. “Yes, he’s upstairs.”
The two men immediately started toward the stairs, Daussie said, “Wait,” then was surprised when they stopped. She realized that her voice had held the kind of commanding tone Eva used when she was taking charge of a situation. Why didn’t I do that with Mary? she wondered. When they looked at her, she said, “He was very badly injured. He should have no more than one visitor at a time and his wife is up there now.”
The two men backed away from the stairs. One said, “Sorry. Can you tell us about his injury?”
“A knife wound,” she shrugged, looking at the swords hanging from their belts, “or a sword. Here,” she pointed to the right upper quadrant of her own abdomen. “He lost a lot of blood, and he’ll be very weak for a while.”
The two men paled.
Daussie shook her head, “The blade didn’t injure his intestines. It’s intestinal injuries that usually kill people over the next few days. So, since he lived through the night, he has a good chance of living out a normal life.”
Daussie didn’t think they understood what intestines were, nonetheless, they seemed thoroughly cowed by the fact she did. She thought about telling them that intestines were the same as gut, but by then one of them was speaking. “We’ll wait till his wife leaves, then one of us will go up.”
Daussie nodded, wondering what they’d do while they were waiting.
They solved that when one of them said, “Is it all right if we sit down here? Will you be serving food today? I’ve heard Hyllis Tavern has wonderful fare.”
Daussie shrugged, “We had a hard night last night, taking care of your friend. I’m not sure how things are going in the kitchen, but I’ll check with them.”
The man thanked her and she turned to the kitchen. When she got in there, she found Daum taking over Eva’s role—as he so often did when she’d been busy healing. He was frying bacon and, she suspected, bossing the others. Daussie always felt surprised at how well he did managing the kitchen. The food he turned out was earthy and simple without many of the wonderful flavors Eva turned out, but it was well liked nonetheless. From the smell, they were just getting some bread in the ovens. Kazy and Nylin were kneading more dough. Grace was cutting up chicken. Tarc was standing in the corner frowning at a cup of something he was sipping.
Daussie opened her mouth to chide him for being the only one who wasn’t contributing. Then she remembered the awful headache he probably still had. She decided the current frown most likely came from the bitter taste of willow bark tea.
Daum pulled two loaves of bread out of the oven and looked up at Daussie. “Bacon, eggs and toast shortly.”
She hooked a thumb back at the dining area, “We have a couple of guardsmen waiting out there. Friends of our patient from last night. Will we have enough to serve them anytime soon?”
Daum nodded, eyes going to Farlin, “Tell them ten or twenty minutes.” He looked at Daussie, “Meanwhile, if you could start slicing and toasting the bread?”
Daussie got to work.
A little while later, Farlin was back in the kitchen, “Our open door’s bringing in customers. They’re asking if they can have breakfast too. They look hopeful.”
Daum grinned at Daussie and said, “No rest for the wicked.” To Farlin, he said, “Tell them we’ll do the best we can.”
~~~
Later that morning, when the rush of customers had slowed, Daussie and Kazy went upstairs to check on their patient from the night before. When they entered the room, Mary jumped to her feet and came over to throw her arms around Daussie. “Ms. Soh tells me that you were very important in helping take care of my Jimmy.”
Mary leaned back, tears filling reddened eyes. Daussie said, “Taking care of sick people’s what I’ve always wanted to do.”
Vyrda spoke up, “Mary, this is Kazy,” she said, indicating the green-eyed girl. “She’s the one who’s so good at getting patients to relax when something’s being done for them. She helped Jimmy sleep through everything.”
Mary hugged Kazy next, “That’s so wonderful. Jimmy says he doesn’t remember a thing after he got here to the tavern. However you relaxed him enough to sleep through that, it’s a real gift.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Kazy said shyly.
Epilogue
It’d been a week since Jimmy’d been stabbed. That, and the way business had continued to pick up had set them back so the Hyllises hadn’t had any manpower to spare for investigating the underground rooms until now.
Now, Vyrda’s young cousins had started work and become proficient in serving customers. One-armed Farlin was managing the room and collecting the money. Kazy was enthusiastically learning to run the kitchen, but Nylin and Grace were also interested and pitching in strongly as well. Daum had his first batches of beer underway and it seemed that Tarc could be spared at last.
The day of Jimmy’s stabbing, Tarc had sent Farlin out to pay Keller Sarno the coppers he hadn’t had and to tell him Tarc wouldn’t be there for at least a few days. He’d had Farlin suggest that Sarno check by in the mornings after that if he was still interested in work.
Tarc had decided that he’d really like to have the lock on the door into the rest of the underground complex be functional. Something that any of the Hyllises could unlock with a key. Therefore, he’d begged Daussie to come with him and transport some light oil into the lock mechanism in the hopes they could break it free.
He’d also rented a wagon and bought a ladder to put on it. The two mules were pulling the wagon while he and Daussie rode their horses. “Brownie and Bayby needed some exercise anyway,” he said to Daussie.
“Not as much as I needed to get out and see some sunshine,” she replied, stretching ecstatically.
~~~
They were taking out the last of the pipes that were barring the entrance when Sarno showed up. “Keller, great to see you. I was hoping you hadn’t given up on us. Sorry about the delay.”
&nb
sp; Sarno smiled broadly, “That’s okay.”
“Can you grab that ladder off the wagon?”
“Sure.”
As Sarno turned toward the wagon, Tarc couldn’t help noticing how his eyes lingered on Daussie for a moment. As he pulled out the last couple of bars on the entrance, he spoke quietly to his sister, “Sarno can’t keep his eyes off of you. I guess you won’t be out here much, but when you are, you should be careful.”
Daussie eyed Tarc for a moment, “I’m always careful.”
Tarc wondered what her odd expression had meant. That she can protect yourself? That Sarno’s only one of a large number of men who gawp after her? That I should mind my own business?
Telepath (A Hyllis Family Story #4) Page 26