Healers

by Laurence Dahners

  Daum grunted, “He went for wood.”

  “But hasn’t he been gone a long time?”

  Daum’s eyes lifted, then he straightened and stared off towards the woods at the edge of the merchants’ plain. “Yes… he has.”

  Someone appeared at the edge of the woods on the path Tarc normally took to the woodcutter’s. Daum and Kazy hoped briefly it would prove to be Tarc, but rather than being followed by a horse laden with wood, the first man out of the woods was followed by four more men, all shambling along walking oddly.

  No horse.

  No Tarc.

  Kazy watched Daum fidget for a minute or two. She felt relieved when he said, “Let Eva know I’ve gone to check on Tarc.” He picked up a saddle and went after Blackie.

  Kazy felt uncomfortable giving Eva possible bad news. However, after hesitating for a few minutes, she approached. “Eva, Daum asked me to let you know he was going to check on Tarc.”

  Eva turned sharply to look towards the woods and Daum’s broad back as he rode away. She closed her eyes for a moment as if to calm herself, then opened them and smiled brightly at Kazy. “I’m sure he’s okay,” she said, though Kazy thought she was comforting herself as much as she was reassuring Kazy. “Can you slice some more bacon?”

  “Sure,” Kazy said, glancing at Daussie. Daussie also eyed the woods with a worried look on her face. Why do they let Tarc go off by himself? Even if they didn’t know how dangerous the woods could be before they started their caravan life, surely they know by now! In most families, the father would make the dangerous trips. It’s almost like they think Tarc’s expendable, or they imagine he can protect himself as well as a full-grown man!

  As she sliced bacon, Kazy frequently glanced up toward the wood. When the five men who’d walked out of the wood were getting close, Lizeth, the girl guard, trotted out on a horse and spoke to the man at the back. Kazy looked more carefully and realized the four men in front were walking funny because they all had their hands tied behind them. It looked like the last man in the file of five had on the dark leathers of one of the caravan guards. She wondered what could be going on.

  Lizeth wheeled her horse and rode off toward the woods herself.

  A sick feeling rose in Kazy’s gut. Lizeth was a caravan guard, why would she ride toward the woods unless one of the caravaners might be in trouble there?! However, before Lizeth reached the woods, Daum and Tarc appeared. Daum still rode Blackie, while Tarc led the bay horse burdened with several bundles of wood. Lizeth rode up to them, leapt down off her horse, and gave Tarc a big hug!

  As Tarc exited the woods with his father, he saw Lizeth riding toward them. For a moment, he wondered where she was going, but then it became obvious she was headed toward him. She rode up hard, reined to a hard stop and leapt off her horse, throwing her arms around him.

  A dream come true, to have Lizeth’s arms around him, but he hadn’t pictured it happening in front of his father. He patted Lizeth’s back clumsily while darting a glance at Daum to see how he was taking this.

  Daum was smirking.

  Lizeth pushed Tarc back to arm’s length, “You’re okay?!”

  Tarc nodded slowly, uncertain as to what Lizeth knew.

  Lizeth said, “Sam said you were captured by that group of bandits?”

  For a moment, Tarc wanted to tell Lizeth what had happened. He had assumed she would know, after all she had figured out that he’d freed Walterston and rescued the girls from the raiders. Surely she would immediately realize what had actually happened back there in the woods. And, she thought dangerous men were sexy… But, he didn’t want to be thought of as a dangerous man. In fact, he‘d asked Sam to lie about what had happened in the woods for just this purpose and he should be pleased rather than disappointed Sam had sold his story so well. “Yes,” he shook his head as if in relief, “I’m really lucky Sam happened along when he did.”

  Lizeth drew him into another embrace. Over her shoulder he saw Daum staring at him as if wondering which story, Tarc’s or Lizeth’s was true. He shook his head microscopically at his father and tried not to be too obvious about squeezing Lizeth back.

  Lizeth stepped away and picked up the reins of her horse. She started leading it alongside Tarc, saying, “I can’t believe Sam left you to follow along behind in the woods! He should have insisted on accompanying you!”

  “I was okay,” Tarc said, “the bandits were all captured by then.”

  “Well, yes, but you must’ve been pretty shook up.”

  “No…” Tarc started, then realized protesting it hadn’t been frightening didn’t fit the story they were selling. “Well, yeah it was pretty scary.”

  She stopped for a moment, then turned an intense gaze on Tarc and resumed walking. “Wait a minute…” she searched Tarc’s face, “You don’t look…” She tilted her head, “How did those guys manage to capture you anyway?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Um… they just seemed to appear on the trail from behind some trees.” He thought for a second, “I was walking along the trail, not paying much attention, when suddenly two guys with swords were in front of me. I turned to run the other way, but there were a couple of guys back there too. Then an archer stepped out on the trail, so, even if I managed to get by the swordsmen, he would have just shot me in the back.”

  “Oh and… I guess they were too close for your throwing knives?”

  “Uh-huh,” Tarc said, seeing by the expression on Daum’s face he would have to explain how Lizeth had figured out that Tarc threw knives.

  “Well then,” Lizeth grinned and raised an eyebrow, “it’s a good thing you and Sam are getting along now, huh? The way you two were acting the other day he might’ve just left you there.”

  “Uh-huh,” Tarc said reluctantly.

  “Well, I’d better get back to guarding the caravan,” Lizeth said swinging back up onto her horse. “See you later,” she said cheerfully as she trotted away.

  Daum studied him for a moment. “Why aren’t you and Sam getting along?”

  “He thinks Lizeth is his girl,” Tarc said truculently, “Doesn’t like me talking to her.”

  Daum shrugged, “He is more the right age for her.”

  Tarc turned a wounded stare on his father.

  Daum raised his hands as if surrendering, “Sorry! I speak common wisdom… which is of little relevance in the face of young love!” Then he grinned, “In that case, it probably really chapped your ass when you figured out who you’d just saved, huh?”

  Tarc grinned back, “Yeah, I thought for a moment about apologizing to the bandits for interrupting their party… Wanted to wish them luck and tell them to get on with it.”

  “Well,” Daum said soberly, “I’m glad you didn’t.”

  Somehow Kazy managed to keep slicing bacon without slicing a finger, though her eyes spent most of their time following Lizeth, Tarc, and Daum. After hugging Tarc hard for a minute or so, Lizeth walked with them for a while, then leapt back on her horse and trotted back to the caravan’s camp.

  She came directly to the back of the Hyllises’ booth. Dropping down off her horse, she stepped to Eva. She spoke quietly and reassuringly, but not so quietly Kazy couldn’t hear. “Tarc had a little run in with some bandits on the woods trail. Fortunately, Sam came along and got the drop on the bad guys. He arrested them and he’s taking them to the guardia now.”

  Eva blinked, “He didn’t dispense summary justice?”

  Lizeth laughed, “Well, three of them died, but then the other four surrendered.”

  “Still, I thought it was customary to execute bandits, keep them from continuing to ply their trade?”

  “Sam said that’s what he was going to do, but Tarc asked him to turn them over to the guardia. Apparently he figured Realth could use a few more slaves, and certainly the bandits would prefer to be enslaved.”

  “Sounds like Tarc,” Eva said, sounding partly amused, partly proud, and partly frustrated.

  Kazy listened to all this in growin
g astonishment. She remembered Sam. The young guard was handsome in a dark, muscular kind of way. She admired him and thought of him as the kind of man she might like to be with some day—if she ever got over her fear of men in general. However, taking on seven bandits?! Killing three and capturing four?! It seemed hard to countenance such a feat even if he had surprised them. Perhaps, she thought, they were underfed scraggly men with knives and no swords? Or maybe… Sam’s a truly fearsome fighter?

  A few minutes later, Daum and Tarc arrived. It looked as if they intended to unload the wood first, but Eva strode quickly to them to clasp Tarc in her arms. “I worry every time you go to the wood cutters! It’s so lucky Sam happened along!”

  Kazy saw Tarc roll his eyes! It looked like he thought he hadn’t actually been in grave danger! Kazy thought he looked depressed, rather than exhilarated to be alive like he should be.

  Then Daum stepped to Eva and spoke quietly in her ear.

  As if she’d just realized something, Eva said, “Oh.” She turned to Tarc and gave him another hug, “Sorry Tarc. We all know you meant well. Some men are just so horrible they don’t deserve to live. I know you don’t want to be the…” Eva saw Kazy listening and broke off, just patting Tarc on the shoulder.

  Feeling totally confused, Kazy’s mind whirled as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. What had Eva been about to say, but didn’t want Kazy to hear? On and off through the morning she worried at the problem while she helped get ready for the lunch rush. It seemed though, that the more she thought about it, the more bewildering the entire series of events got.

  In the middle of the morning, Kazy went to the wagon for more salt. As she arrived, she saw Mrs. Spencer there with her sick son, Paul. Kazy had forgotten about the Hyllises’ patient. She’d seen him really sick with pneumonia. Kazy found it hard to believe he was still alive. She wondered if she could sneak in and get the salt without Paul’s mother realizing she was there, but just as she reached the wagon, Mrs. Spencer saw her and said, “Good morning.”

  Kazy ducked her head, “Good morning to you ma’am.” Though she dreaded the answer, she followed up with, “How’s your son?”

  “Much better! Much better, thanks be to your mother.”

  “Oh… she’s my… auntie,” Kazy said, astonished, but happy to hear the boy was improving. Perhaps Eva wouldn’t get in trouble after all.

  Eva, Tarc, and Daussie went back to the wagon to give Paul another treatment right before the lunch rush. Despite having made more pizza than any day since they’d first started selling it, they sold out shortly after noon in a massive lunch rush. Even with the pizza gone, they had a substantial line for beans, roast potatoes, roast beef, and sandwiches made with roast beef and sliced tomatoes.

  Several of the caravaners spoke to Tarc when they came to get their food, congratulating him on his narrow escape. They said things like “Good thing Sam came by when he did, eh?” Tarc appeared to enthusiastically agree with the people who spoke to him, but somehow Kazy got the feeling he found their sentiments irritating.

  Midafternoon, when the line had shortened to a reasonable length, Kazy looked up and saw a troop of six guardia marching through the area the Norton’s caravan had staked out for its sales booths. For only a moment did she wonder if this might have something to do with the bandits who had attacked Tarc this morning.

  Instead, almost immediately her stomach heaved as she came to the realization that, more likely, someone had complained about Eva’s healing. Could she be about to lose the family she had so recently gained?! Would they enslave everyone in Eva’s family?! Might they include even Kazy?!

  That sick feeling proved right. The little troop of guardia stopped near the entrance to the Norton’s area. Its leader conferred with a man that Kazy belatedly realized had accompanied them down from the city. With dismay she recognized Paul’s father, Mr. Spencer. Kazy knew Spencer had stormed away the other morning when Paul had been looking really sick. Paul’s mother had been staying with the young man ever since, rarely leaving his side. She’d run out of money and the Hyllises had been feeding her gratis. Kazy saw Spencer point to the Hyllises’ booth. The troop reformed and appeared to be marching directly towards Kazy.

  Kazy’s knees trembled as their leader marched them up and brought them to a boot stamping halt right in front of her. Her customers had heard the guardia coming and had quickly stepped out of the way. The soldiers wore light armor and carried swords. The leader said, “Are you the healer Eva Hyllis?”

  Kazy couldn’t bring herself to speak. She shook her head tremulously.

  In a demanding tone the soldier said, “Where is she?”

  Before Kazy could be forced to feel like a traitor by pointing Eva out to them, she felt a hand on her shoulder. “I’m here,” Eva said. “Can I help you?”

  The soldier lifted a piece of rough paper and said, “Eva Hyllis, you are under arrest, accused of the crime of practicing as a healer, but making one Paul Spencer worse, rather than better.”

  “Would that be the Paul Spencer, recently brought here on a litter, nearly dead of pneumonia?”

  The soldier looked a question at Mr. Spencer who nodded. He turned back to Eva and said, “Yes.”

  Eva said, “Do you want to come look at Paul Spencer, to see how much worse he is with your own eyes?”

  “No. I am charged with arresting you and bringing you for judgment. I have no orders regarding Mr. Spencer.”

  Kazy turned, thinking to go see if Paul was strong enough to come to the booth, but Eva kept her there with a strong grip on her shoulder. Eva said, “I see. May I gather a few things to take with me?”

  “No, everything you need will be supplied.”

  “Will there be a trial? Or has everything already been decided on the word of this man?” she indicated Paul’s father with a wave.

  “The date of the trial will be posted at the court. Your family can bring witnesses at that time. You may have visitors once a day, just after sunrise.” The soldier turned a hard loon on Mr. Spencer, “And, if you’re judged innocent, your accuser will be enslaved two days for each day you’re forced to spend waiting for judgment.”

  The voice of Ruth Spencer came from the back of the booth. “Stephen!” she barked, walking to the front. “You witless ass! Paul’s almost recovered, thanks to the ministrations of the woman you’re trying to get in trouble! Couldn’t you at least come to see for yourself before you made accusations?!”

  Kazy turned her eyes to Mr. Spencer and saw his face had turned to ash. “Um,” he swallowed and turned to the soldier, “can I retract my accusation?”

  The soldier gave Spencer an irritated look, “My job, is to arrest and bring the accused to the holding cells. I don’t make decisions about your accusations, or anyone’s guilt. You might be able to apply to the court to retract your accusations.”

  In dismay, Kazy watched with everyone else as the small troop of guardia marched Eva away. Daum walked beside her for emotional support, but said he would be back to help make dinner for the caravan. He had spoken emotionlessly as if he held no fear of the outcome of Realth’s judgment, but Kazy could tell he felt stricken.

  Kazy’s heart lay like a stone in her chest. Even if Eva was judged innocent, what if the caravan left before she was so judged? How were they going to keep feeding the caravaners and the market without Eva to organize and boss them all? Why did Eva insist on trying to treat those people? She can’t possibly believe she’s making a difference. Sure, some people get better—some people always get better—but, unfortunately some people get worse.

  Chapter Ten

  Eva spooned up the flavorless, sodden beans that constituted the evening meal in the holding area of Realth’s prison. She thought to herself that if this was the way they cooked beans here in Realth, it was no wonder there was such demand for the spicy, bacon-flavored beans the Hyllises sold at the market. Probably though, she thought, here in the prison the beans are just badly prepared by someone who doesn
’t care.

  She’d learned the holding area kept people accused of a crime, but awaiting trial because doubt remained.

  A separate “misdemeanor area” held those caught in the act of minor crimes like drunkenness, fighting, or vandalism by the guardia. The guardia also served as the judge in those cases and, because the sentences for such crimes were prescribed by law, the offenders immediately began working it off.

  A third area held felons, those who had committed heinous crimes such as murder or rape. Felons were enslaved for years to decades. They were worked hard in bestial conditions. She’d been told felons frequently failed to live out their sentence.

  A woman sat down across from Eva, “What’re you accused of?”

  Eva shrugged, “As I understand it, I’m accused of trying to heal someone, but failing to make them better. What about you?”

  The woman quirked a sad smile, “Stealing medicine for my daughter.”

  “Oh! I’m so sorry. What’s wrong with your daughter?”

  “Breathing troubles.”

  Eva tilted her head thoughtfully, “Does she wheeze?”

  The woman frowned, “Wheeze?”

  “Like this,” Eva made her best imitation of a wheezing patient.

  “Oh, yes! How did you know?”

  “It’s probably asthma. That’s a fairly common condition in children. The passages into the lungs are irritated. They narrow and then air doesn’t flow very well. The child gets short of breath and the air kind of whistles in and out to make the wheezing sound.”

  The woman looked stunned. “That’s amazing! You’ve described it exactly. You work as a healer?”

  Eva shrugged, “Mostly as a cook. Healing’s what I love though.”

  The woman gave Eva a thoughtful look, “I thought there weren’t any healers in Realth. Supposedly they’ve all been driven away by the king’s rulings.”

  “Oh, I’m not from here. I travel with one of the caravans. The Norton caravan? We’ve been parked out on the merchants’ plain this past little while.”