Healers

by Laurence Dahners

  “Don’t know of them. Didn’t you hear about Realth’s laws on healing?”

  “Yeah, I read the law where it’s posted at the gate. So we covered our sign that advertised healing and intended only working as cooks. But people kept bringing us sick patients and I couldn’t in good conscience refuse to help them.” She shrugged, “We didn’t charge them for their treatment, thinking that might protect us. Apparently not.”

  “Someone got worse?”

  Eva nodded, “For a while. He had pneumonia and could barely breathe. He’s getting better now, but the accusation had already been made.”

  The woman’s eyes widened, “You cured someone of pneumonia?!”

  “Well, he might have just gotten better on his own. We’ll never know for sure. But I think we helped him a lot.”

  “Can you cure this ‘asth’… whatever you called it? The thing making my daughter wheeze?”

  “Um, no. If she has asthma, nothing really cures it, though some things make it better. What medicine is it you were accused of stealing?”

  “A salve to rub on her chest.”

  “Oh,” Eva gave her a dubious look. “I wouldn’t expect that to work. Did you think it was helping?”

  The woman thought for a moment then shrugged, “Not really, but I had to do something.”

  “If there aren’t any healers here in Realth, how did you know to try this salve?”

  “The people who sell the salve have little signs telling you what their medications are good for. They say they’re not healers because they don’t tell you what’s wrong or say which medicines to use. They only sell medicines that you can decide to take if you like.” She sighed in frustration, “If the salve won’t work, what would you suggest?”

  “Well,” Eva said slowly, realizing she might be committing healing, exactly the crime she was imprisoned for. “The ancients had medicine to make the air passages open back up. Nobody has those kinds of medicines anymore, so all that can be done nowadays is to avoid the kinds of things that make asthma worse.”

  Wide-eyed, the woman said, “What makes it worse?!”

  “Things in the air. Smoke, pollen, dust.”

  “Smoke?!”

  “Yes,” Eva frowned. “Is there a lot of smoke where you live?”

  “Of course, we have to cook and keep ourselves warm!”

  “Ah, but a good stove and chimney should minimize the smoke.”

  “Our stove leaks a lot of smoke, but we can’t afford a better one.” The woman looked chagrined, “I’ve been making my daughter do the cooking.” She smiled at a sudden thought, “I could swap tasks with her.”

  Eva gave her a sad look, “At least do that, but if it’s leaking a lot of smoke, that’s probably not good for anyone’s health. Even if you can’t afford a better one, perhaps you could patch it or plug some of the holes with clay. It might help to extend the chimney for a better draft.”

  The woman’s eyes widened, “I’ll tell my husband when he comes to visit me tomorrow morning!”

  “Can you tell me how the visiting works?” Eva asked. “And when we might expect our time in court?”

  “There’s an area of open ironwork near the gate. If you have visitors, you speak to them through the fence there. If the guards catch anyone passing you anything, that’s a misdemeanor so you immediately go to the misdemeanor area for three days, along with whoever passed it to you.” The woman looked thoughtful, “I’ve been here for three days and my trial’s supposed to be tomorrow. It’ll probably be four days or so for you too.”

  Eva’s shoulders slumped, “Four days!”

  The woman shrugged, “It could be a lot worse if they convict you.”

  “But the boy’s getting better!”

  “A lot of their sentences don’t make much sense,” the woman said darkly. “My name’s Vivian. What’s yours?”

  “Eva…” After a pause, she said in a depressed tone, “Thanks for telling me how things work around here.”

  ***

  To Kazy’s immense surprise, even without Eva the Hyllises all pitched to produce a dinner for the caravan. It wasn’t quite as smooth. Daum took over directing, planning, and bossing. Because he’d been in the background, mostly working with his still to produce moonshine, Kazy’d assumed he had little interest and no knowledge of the meal preparation. Instead, he proved completely adequate to the task. He even had them do a few things differently. Things that seemed to go more efficiently his way than the way Eva’d been doing them. Daum seemed distracted at times, but in view of the fact his wife was a prisoner, Kazy wasn’t surprised.

  Nonetheless, once the evening meal was served, the pizza rounds and bread baked for the next day and the beans started simmering for the night, the Hyllises kind of collapsed to a halt. Everyone seemed depressed and sad as well as worried. Daussie started to sing one of her melancholy songs, so Kazy joined in. Daum actually joined in with a nice baritone. Tarc didn’t sing, simply resting his head back against the spokes of a wagon wheel, his fretful expression slowly softening to peacefulness.

  Part way into the second song, the guard, Lizeth, appeared and sat down beside Tarc. He opened his eyes and smiled weakly at her. She spoke quietly and seriously to him, though Kazy couldn’t hear over the singing. After her first sentence, Tarc’s eyes opened wide with disbelief. Lizeth spoke a little longer, then took Tarc’s hand and squeezed it before getting up and walking away.

  When the song was done, Daum said, “What was that about?”

  Looking a little dazed, Tarc said, “She offered to help us break Mom out of prison if they didn’t release her.”

  “Ah, well if it comes to that we probably could use the help,” Daum said as if discussing the weather.

  “I’ll help too,” came a voice out of the darkness. A moment later their patient Paul came unsteadily around the front of the wagon.

  Tarc stood quickly to take Paul’s arm, “Are you sure you’re up to walking around?”

  “No,” Paul said with a weak laugh. “But I didn’t think I could stand lying there for another minute.”

  Tarc glanced back over his shoulder, “Where’s your mom?”

  “Sleeping, which is good. Poor woman’s hardly rested for days now.”

  Tarc looked Paul up and down. With a grin he said, “Well, you do look ready to break down the prison gates. I’m sure if we show up with you at our side; the guards will tremble and release Eva without a fight.”

  “I know,” Paul said with a weak snort, but then lifted an eyebrow, “what if I threaten to give them my pneumonia?”

  Daum laughed, “That might work. Come on, sit down and let us get you a blanket. The last thing we want you to do is to get sick again. You, looking healthy and testifying in Eva’s defense is probably the best way to get her out of that place.”

  With resolve, Paul said, “I’ll be there.”

  ***

  At dawn the next morning, Eva found her entire family, including Kazy waiting at the ironwork grating. “Who’s making breakfast for the caravan?” she asked when Daum came forward to be the first to speak to her.

  “No one,” he said with a wink. “I’m hoping the caravaners are addicted enough to our cooking that missing it for a couple of days will make them think twice about leaving us behind.”

  “Oh, you mean if they keep me as a slave?” Eva said, looking apprehensive.

  “Relax, I don’t think they will. Paul’s actually up walking around. He wants to testify in your behalf, so it’s hard to imagine them deciding you’d caused him harm.” Daum shrugged, “But, I think we should be prepared for every possibility.”

  Daum stepped back and Eva spent a few minutes speaking to each of her children and then to Kazy. Since they weren’t allowed to touch, it wasn’t very fulfilling.

  Breakfast was an unpleasant gruel.

  The prisoners were allowed to view the trials as they occurred. Eva attended them since that seemed to be the best way to gain a grasp of Realth’s judicial syste
m. What she witnessed didn’t exactly fill her with hope. Accusers spoke their piece and called their witnesses, up to four. Then the defendants spoke their piece and called their witnesses, again up to four. The judge looked bored by the entire process. At some points Eva thought he’d completely stopped paying attention!

  Testimony completed, the judge immediately passed sentence, never speaking to the justification of his decision. The sentences he passed down often seemed… wrong, making her suspect even more that he hadn’t listened closely to the testimony. On one occasion, the defendant got off scot-free, but his accuser was enslaved for two weeks.

  On two occasions Eva thought to be gross miscarriages of justice, the winner of the case appeared wealthy, leading Eva to suspect bribery. Her heart sinking, she turned to an older woman seated near her, “Do you think the accuser bribed the judge to find in his favor?”

  The woman snorted, “Of course,” she said, matter of factly, as if it would be foolishness to think otherwise. She looked at Eva curiously for a moment, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

  “No, I travel with one of the caravans,” Eva said dispiritedly.

  “Oh! Are you the healer we’ve been hearing so much about?”

  “Maybe? Normally I work as a healer, though here in Realth I’ve tried not to. I don’t advertise it or charge for it since a failed healing’s a crime here.”

  “But, from what I’ve been hearing, you actually do make people better! That’s a rare thing. As long as you didn’t make them worse you should have been safe here.”

  Eva sighed, “But it’s impossible to cure every illness. Some people get worse because there isn’t any treatment for their problem.”

  The woman shrugged, “Well then, if there’s no treatment, and you give no treatment, then there shouldn’t be a problem, should there?”

  Eva looked wistful. “Even if you can’t make them better, you can usually do a few things to help their suffering. Give them poppy or something like that. At least they’ll feel better, even if they do keep getting worse.”

  The woman looked thoughtful, “Mmm, I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  Sadly Eva said, “And even if you mean well, sometimes treatments do make people worse.”

  After a pause, the woman eyed Eva, “I’ve heard about you though. Rumor is, you’ve really been making people better.”

  Eva gave a rueful little laugh. “It is remarkable. Every patient who’s come to us here in Realth has had something we could treat.” She shrugged, “That isn’t usually the case. But anyway, we’ve actually been able to make everyone we’ve seen in Realth better. Normally that’d be really fulfilling.” She snorted unhappily, “So of course this is the place where I get sent to prison and might become a slave.”

  The woman jerked her chin up interrogatively, “So, what’s wrong with me?”

  Eva looked at her, “I don’t know. What’s your complaint?”

  “My chest hurts sometimes.”

  “Is it achy or sharp?”

  “Achy. Makes it hard to breathe.”

  “Does it only come on when you’re working? Or even when you’re resting?”

  “No not when I’m resting,” she said acerbically, “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or just ask questions?”

  “Let me feel your pulse,” Eva said taking the woman’s wrist so she’d have an excuse for sitting quietly while her ghost went into the woman’s chest. She quickly scanned through the rest of the woman’s body without finding anything obvious, then focused on her heart. As she’d suspected, the coronary arteries of the woman’s heart were nearly clogged. Letting go of the woman’s wrist, Eva said, “The blood vessels in your heart are clogged up. With them blocked, your heart doesn’t get enough blood, especially not enough for when you exercise because then your heart has to work harder. When your heart doesn’t get enough blood it aches.”

  The woman leaned back and gave Eva a little grin. “I’ve always heard that you healers speak gobbledygook. You do too, but you need to be careful, I almost understood what you just said.”

  Eva frowned, “Which part didn’t you understand? I can try to explain it better.”

  “What are vessels? The little tubes your blood flows through?”

  Eva nodded.

  “Well then,” the woman grinned, “I think I actually did understand what you said. You really need to work on your patter so you can keep your patients confused. Can’t have them learning your business, you know?”

  Eva grinned back at her. “Maybe I’ll come to you for lessons?”

  “Probably you should. So, if my vessels are plugged, what can I do about it?”

  Eva sobered. “I can’t unplug them, but my daughter could. Maybe she could treat you when we get out of here?”

  “Hah! No, the judge is going to give me thirty days for my crime. Even if I survive thirty days of hard work, you caravaners will be gone by then.”

  “What was your crime?” Eva asked, frowning.

  “Angering old man Stimson. His gold’s gonna make sure I’m convicted for it.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry! Isn’t there anything that can be done?”

  The woman winked, “You could fix my heart so I’ll live through my sentence?”

  Eva’s eyebrows rose as she had a thought. “Can my daughter be your visitor tomorrow morning?”

  “Sure, but she can’t give me anything. Can’t give it to you to give to me either.”

  Eva blinked. After a moment she decided to break one of her cardinal rules. “She doesn’t have to touch you or give you anything. She just has to stand near you. If you stood with your chest as near to the grating as possible, and she leaned in close from the other side, she could still clear the blockages in your heart.”

  “Without touching me?” the woman said suspiciously, “how?!”

  Eva chewed her lip for a moment then said, “I can’t tell you that… But it will work. Do you want to try it?”

  The woman stared at Eva for a minute, then lifted an eyebrow and said, “Sure. They’re going to try to kill me by workin’ me ‘til my heart busts. Why not take a chance?”

  Eva didn’t say anything about how, even without the hard work, the woman’s heart would likely kill her soon.

  ***

  Lizeth and Sam walked slowly back from the far end of the caravan. They’d found a little nook there to be alone. They’d been finding out of the way spots to kiss and hold one another for some time now, though Sam always wanted to do more.

  She really liked the darkly handsome and oh so nicely-muscled Sam. Her attraction for him had been growing for months, but then had really bumped up when Sam rescued Tarc. That he’d saved Tarc at great risk to himself, taking on seven bandits, increased Lizeth’s respect for Sam even more.

  Especially since she knew he’d barely gotten over his jealousy issue about Tarc and Lizeth.

  It did bug her, the way Sam bragged about his feat. Just boasting wouldn’t bother her much—that was pretty common amongst guards and other military guys in Lizeth’s experience. But, when he described the rescue, Sam made Tarc sound like a sniveling coward. Lizeth couldn’t believe the Tarc who’d rescued all those girls had acted like a coward.

  Still, deeds were more important than words. Lizeth glanced up at Sam and he smiled back at her. Turning, she lifted her lips to his and they shared another quick kiss. Her arm around his waist and his hand over her shoulder, they resumed lazily walking, Lizeth feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. I could let him go further, she thought, he wants it so badly. It’s not like I really care about staying a virgin, I just don’t want to have any babies. They had walked a little farther when she had another thought, When Eva gets free, I’ll bet she can tell me how to keep from getting pregnant.

  Lizeth leaned her head happily on Sam’s shoulder, thinking about how wonderful it would feel to be even closer to Sam.

  An even stronger relationship.

  As they passed the guard wagon, Sam jerked back.
He stopped walking, his hand sliding down off Lizeth’s shoulder. She glanced up at him. He looked… apprehensive. She looked ahead to see what might be worrying him, but didn’t see anything. He started walking again, but stiffly and slower. They were just about to get to the Hyllises’ wagon. Tarc was getting something out of it. Beyond, the Ropers’ wagon stood empty.

  Lizeth looked into the distance for something else that might have alarmed Sam.

  She blinked, then she stopped.

  Her eyes went from Tarc, to Sam, to Tarc. Then she looked intently up at Sam. “You didn’t rescue Tarc did you?”

  Wide-eyed, Sam looked down at her, “What?!” But he almost whispered, as if afraid to be overheard sounding indignant.

  Tarc had found whatever he was looking for in the wagon. He went back around to the other side where the Hyllises’ tents were pitched. “You were captured by the bandits. Tarc rescued you.”

  “What?!” Sam tried to look offended, but didn’t really pull it off.

  Lizeth took her arm from around Sam’s back and looked at him. “I know what Tarc can do. I’d thought it was pretty surprising that any bandits managed to capture someone as… deadly as he is.” Then, referencing Sam’s reputation for poor situational awareness, Lizeth said, “Turns out, I’m not surprised some bandits caught ‘Mr. Oblivious.’”

  “You know about his knives?!”

  She nodded, then frowned, “How did you talk Tarc into letting you take credit?”

  “He wanted me to! Doesn’t want people knowing he’s the one!”

  “The one?”

  “The one who killed and demoralized all those soldiers in Walterston! The one who killed the raiders!” A shiver ran over him. “What he can do with a knife… it’s ungodly! Three throws, three kills! Every knife, right in the gods-be-damned eye!”

  “Yes… yes it is,” Lizeth said quietly. She eased a little away from Sam and stood looking at him a moment. “Catch you later,” she said, like she usually did when she and Sam parted. She stepped between the guard wagon and the Hyllises’ wagon and headed over to where the musicians were warming up.

  Bemusedly, she realized she’d just lost all interest in Sam. She probably wouldn’t be “catching him later” after all.