She carried the two pieces of cloth over and threw them under the table her supplies were on. After wiping her hands a final time, she walked over to the king’s table. “If that man’s going to get over his infection, he’ll have to have better food than they feed him in the prison.” Eva picked up one of the plates on the king’s table and put several sausage patties, a couple pieces of fruit, and the remnants of a salad on it. She turned and began walking toward the prisoner.
Behind her, the king said, “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
Eva kept walking. Without turning, she said “You told me you wanted me to try to cure this man. If he’s going to have a chance, he needs meat and vegetables.” With fingers that only trembled a little, Eva held the plate out to her patient. “Eat this.”
The prisoner darted a glance at the king, then started stuffing the food into his mouth. He wolfed it down as if he expected someone to take it away at any moment, though it turned out the king didn’t order it confiscated.
One of the other prisoners started screaming on the other side of the courtyard. Eva’s eyes flashed that way and saw a prisoner being held by two of the guards. His pants were off and a third guard had just finished ripping a large knife through his thigh!
Eva turned flashing angry eyes on the king. He guffawed and said, “You said you could sew up wounds. Let’s see you do it.”
“I thought Realth claimed to be civilized?! Only barbarians would do something like this!”
“The man’s a criminal,” the king waved dismissively. “A little extra punishment will help to dissuade those who might follow in his footsteps.” He gave a cruel laugh, “And it gives you a chance to show us what you can do.”
Eva realized the guards were wrestling her new patient toward the table where she’d just drained the abscess. “No! Don’t put him on that table! Even though I’ve cleaned it, there may still be some of the germs from the first man. Bring me another table!”
The guards looked at their King. He shrugged, “Use that table, it’s already messy. My people don’t want to have to clean another.”
Eva drew herself up, “I thought you wanted to see if I could make people better? The most important part of it is keeping germs out of their wounds. If you don’t want him to get better,” she jerked her chin up, “just have your guard run him through with a sword and be done with it.”
The king turned to one of the men beside him and quirked a grin, his eyes twinkling. “Spunky, isn’t she?”
The man, looking as if he were uncertain how to answer, shrugged his shoulders.
The king said, “Get the woman another table. When she fails, we don’t want her saying it’s our fault.”
While they were getting another table and wrestling the patient onto it, Eva went through her supplies to find her package of needles and suture, forceps, and her needle holding tools. She also got new bottles of saline and alcohol, not wanting to use the ones from the table where she’d drained the infection.
As she walked back to her new patient, she wondered what kind of crime he’d committed. Eva did the very best she could for her patients, feeling she had a moral obligation to do everything she could to heal them. However, she also believed in capital punishment for murderers and rapists.
As she set down her equipment on the table next to her patient, she said, “What was your crime?”
He grunted in pain, then spat, “Loving the same girl as a rich man’s son, then fighting back when he tried to have me beaten for it.”
Eva reflected she had no way of knowing the truth of the man’s answer, however, having seen Realth’s justice being dispensed in the courtroom, she was inclined to believe the man’s story. There wasn’t much she could do about the lack of justice in Realth, but she could treat this man to the best of her ability.
She sent her ghost in to explore his wound, finding a ragged cut through the skin, underlying fat, fascia, and some of the muscle. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to have injured any significant nerves. She’d already known it hadn’t cut a major vessel or the bleeding would have been worse.
Placing her right hand over the sciatic nerve in back and her left hand over the femoral nerve in front, she said, “I’m going to press on these nerves for a while to make your leg go to sleep so it doesn’t hurt so much.” She moved the index finger of her left hand to put it over the lateral femoral cutaneous nerve. She tapped the finger on it a couple of times, then heard Tarc’s whisper in her ear, “Yes, I’ll do that little nerve too.”
Eva spoke to the prisoner, “Does your leg feel like it’s going to sleep yet?”
“It feels… really funny…”
“Good,” Eva said, uncapping the bottle of saline. “I’m going to wash your wound out now. She poured saline into the gash and her ghost felt it swirling around under Tarc’s influence. Tarc splashed it up out of the wound and Eva poured in some more. She unwrapped the rest of her instruments, placing them all on the big sterile cloth her needle grabber had been in. She uncapped the moonshine and poured alcohol over one of the wrappers, soaking it.
She thoroughly wiped her own hands again, then wiped down the side of the patient’s leg, carefully avoiding getting any of the alcohol in his wound.
After having the patient turn a little so the morning sunshine lit the inside of his wound, Eva picked up the needle grabber and used it to grasp one of the curved needles. They were already pre-threaded with suture before they were sterilized so she wouldn’t have to touch them. Starting with the fascia, she began the tedious process of suturing the wound closed, layer by layer.
When it was done, Eva put on a bandage, then straightened. She put her hands on her hips and arched her back to stretch the kinks out of it. Turning to the king, she said, “It’s done. Even though I washed it, it might still get infected. If that happens we’ll need to take out the sutures, drain, and wash it.”
The king got up from his table and wandered over to look at the man’s leg. This time he kept his hands behind his back and avoided touching anything. “That’s a pretty bunch of stitches, but not even as nice as the ones my seamstress makes on my clothes.”
“Cloth’s much easier to sew than tissue, Sir King.”
“Why’d you put the stitches so far apart?”
“So any pus that forms can come out between the stitches.”
“How’d you get him to hold still while you were sticking all those needles in him?”
Eva lied, “I put pressure on his nerves before I started so his leg would go to sleep. You’ve probably wakened in the night with an arm or leg asleep before? They don’t feel much pain when they’re in that condition, so they can be sutured without so much discomfort.”
The king grunted dubiously, then turned to the patient, “It didn’t hurt?”
An angry look in his eyes, the man said, “It hurt when your men cut me!”
Unperturbed, the king lifted his chin a bit and said, “How about while she was sewing you up?”
The prisoner shrugged sullenly, “Only a little bit.”
The king rubbed his chin for a moment, then spoke, “Keep her locked up. Keep the prisoners close to her and let her check on them whenever she likes. We’ll see how they’re doing in a couple of days.” He turned to Eva and lifted an eyebrow, “You’d better hope they’re doing well.” He turned on his heel and walked back across the courtyard to speak to one of his other men.
Eva glared after him, then wondered if they were talking about her and her prospects for the future. She sent her ghost after them.
The other man was speaking when she first started hearing them, apparently responding to a question from the king. “…certainly acts like she knows what she’s doing. And, according to the judge, there are a lot of people who really think she made them better.” He shrugged, “Maybe she is the real deal.”
The king turned and glanced back at Eva, “Yeah, maybe. But she’s certainly got a mind of her own. What if she doesn’t want to work for us
?”
The man shrugged, “Money will probably change her mind, but if it doesn’t, just threaten her. Or…” The man glanced at Eva, “Probably she’s got family in that caravan. If I were you, I’d arrest them before I started any negotiations with her.”
The king looked at Eva one more time. “Yeah, good idea. If these two she worked on today look like they’re doing okay in a couple of days, we’ll pick up her family before we start negotiating with her. Make sure the guards don’t let her talk to anyone from the caravan between now and then.”
The king left the courtyard and the other man started toward the guards. Eva sent her ghost through the wall to see if Tarc was still there. He was, so, as she bent over her table of supplies, she reached up between her shoulder blades as if she were scratching.
A moment later she heard Tarc’s whisper in her ear, “Do you need something?”
Eva whispered as she re-stacked her materials, “I just listened in on the conversation between the king and that man who’s talking to the guards now. Did you listen to them?”
“No.”
“Apparently the king’s looking for a healer who can actually do some good. If they decide I really can heal people, they plan to hire me, but if I refuse…”
“What?!”
“They… plan to force me to work for them, possibly by arresting you guys and threatening to hurt you if I don’t.”
“Jeez,” Tarc said, sounding disgusted, “aren’t there any decent people in this world?!”
“Yeah,” Eva sighed, “but we’ve been running into our share of the worst recently. You guys need to get out of here. They’re apparently going to decide whether I’m any good as a healer in two days or so, depending on how these two patients are doing.”
Tarc responded, “I’ve been giving this some thought. What we need is to get the wagon out of here. Daussie and I’ll stay here to break you out if they decide to keep you. I’ll talk to Dad, he and Kazy can take the wagon on to the next town.”
“No! You and Daussie have to get beyond their reach as well! I can just cooperate with them for a while, then sneak out once their suspicions are down.”
“Their suspicions aren’t going to go down once they find out your family fled the town before they even tried to arrest them. I’ll go talk to Dad, see what he says. You need me to do anything else while I’m here?”
“No, but you get out of here with the rest of my family! Understand?!”
Tarc whispered a small laugh in her ear, then said, “We’ll see about that, just remember we all love you… Just like you love us.”
Before she could argue further, Eva’s ghost showed Tarc standing. He walked away, leaving Eva with a desolate, lonely feeling. She turned and started bossing the soldiers to help put her supplies away.
Chapter Twelve
With a tightening in his stomach, Norton looked up and saw Daum Hyllis coming his way. “Hey Daum,” he ventured.
“Hey Norton, when are you thinking to have the caravan move on?”
Norton shook his head, “Quite a few of the merchants have started to ask about it. Sales are starting to drop off. I know you’re wanting to stay until they let Eva out, but we’ll probably have to hit the road in the next few days. I told you guys not do any healing here!”
Hyllis held up a placating hand, “I know. People have to do business to survive. Where will the caravan go from here?”
Norton nodded toward the northeast road, “Be heading toward Clancy Vail, then Murchison’s and after that to Asheville. In case you haven’t caught up to us by then, I’ll leave you a message with Randall Smith, the farrier who shoes our horses in Asheville. He’ll know where we’re going from there.”
“Okay, thanks. Hopefully they’ll let Eva out before we leave, but if it doesn’t happen, we’ll know where to go.”
Norton shook his head as Daum walked away. He wouldn’t want to take a lone wagon on the road.
Back at their wagon, Daum found a lot of their stuff had been packed up, even though they were trying to keep their preparations from showing. He looked over the booth, making sure it was ready to take down as soon as darkness came.
He turned to Tarc, “Okay, I think we’re as ready as we can be. How about if you walk us in to say goodbye to Eva?”
As they headed into town, Daum spoke to Henry Roper, asking him to tell anyone looking for dinner that they’d gone into town for their own dinner and wouldn’t be cooking that evening.
They did eat at a tavern in Realth, then dropped by to mill around outside the wall of the palace. Tarc passed messages to and from Eva for Daum. Doing so was both amusing and troubling as they tried to argue through their son. Eva wanted the family far away, leaving her to deal with the king without worrying about them. Daum would have none of that. Tarc also passed messages to Eva for Daussie, though Daussie could listen to Eva’s responses herself. The only tricky part lay in taking turns keeping Kazy occupied with different conversations about how they wished they could talk to Eva. That kept Kazy from realizing it was actually happening right under her nose.
Arriving back at the caravan just as full dark fell; they started packing the rest of their things. The sky was heavily overcast so it was very dark. That made it hard to pack, but on the plus side, people were less likely to tumble to what the Hyllises were doing.
In an additional bit of fortune, the musicians played that night, so most of the caravaners were over there, listening.
Finally, the Hyllises hitched their team and pulled out, moving slowly and trying to make as little noise as possible. For a little while, they thought they’d gotten away unnoticed. Tarc was casting around widely with his ghost to be sure no one was following them when a voice spoke up from just behind him, “What’s your plan?”
He spun, “Lizeth!”
“What? You thought you could sneak away in the middle of the night without even saying goodbye?!”
“Um, yeah.” Tarc stopped walking and so did Lizeth. The wagon trundled away from them. “We’re planning to rejoin the caravan though, once Eva gets free.”
“So, why sneak away?”
“Um, I don’t know if you know this, but the king took Eva out of the prison and has her up at his palace. We think he may want to have his own healer, and we’re worried he might try forcing her to work for him by capturing and threatening the rest of us.”
“Ah, and you don’t want anyone in the caravan to know where you went. Then they won’t be able to tell the soldiers where to look for you.”
“Yeah,” Tarc shrugged, “I know you wouldn’t tell them, but other people might, especially if they’re threatened.”
“Okay,” she shrugged, “but don’t tell me either. Who knows what they might do.” She turned her face up toward him, “How’s Eva going to find you when she gets out?”
“Oh… I’m coming back for her.”
Quietly Lizeth said, “What if they don’t let her go?”
“I guess I’ll have to take her,” Tarc said sounding grim.
“Hey,” she gave him a gentle poke, “I know you’re awfully good with those knives, but even you can’t defeat an entire army.”
He shrugged, “Yeah, I’ll have to be sneaky.”
“Well,” she reached out uncertainly in the pitch dark and placed her hand on his arm, “if you need help, you need only ask.”
“Thanks. That means a lot.” Tarc started to pull away.
“Wait. You can’t go without giving me a hug.” In the darkness, she reached somewhat clumsily for him.
Excitement shot through Tarc as he turned towards her. His ghost showed him exactly where she was and his arms went unerringly around her lithe form. Tarc gave her a little squeeze, then started to let go.
She reached a hand up around the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.
A kiss on the lips that lingered.
Warm and wonderful in ways Tarc had never experienced.
Shivers ran over him.
Gent
ly, she pushed him away. She said throatily, “Be careful.” She turned and started walking back toward the dim lights of the caravan before he could answer.
Tarc stood motionless, his ghost following her as she strode away. Finally he swallowed the frog in his throat and turned to trot after the wagon.
***
Kazy had a hard time coming to grips with what was happening. Packing up and leaving in the middle of the night. Leaving without Eva! She couldn’t understand what was going on, but everyone avoided her questions.
Daussie and Tarc took turns leading the mule team in the dark. To Kazy’s amazement, they apparently never strayed off the road, despite the night being as black as the inside of a cow with its eyes shut and its tail down.
Everyone took turns trying to sleep in the jolting wagon while it was rolling. Though sleeping was really difficult, it turned out if you were tired enough, it was possible.
The rising sun found Tarc leading the mule team and wagon off the road on an overgrown, barely-visible trail Kazy could hardly see. Kazy turned to Daussie, “I thought you guys hadn’t been this way before?”
“We haven’t.”
“How does Tarc know where he’s going then?! How does he even know there’s a trail there?!”
“Um, he’s got really good eyesight.”
“And you too? Is that how you could lead the team in the dark last night?!”
“Um, yeah. We both see and hear a lot better than most people.”
After following the overgrown trail for a few minutes, they broke out of the trees onto a farm with fallow fields and a burned out farmhouse. Kazy would have sworn neither Tarc nor Daussie looked surprised at what they found. She would have sworn they expected to find an overgrown farm and a ruined house. Daum, on the other hand, did look around like someone who’d never seen the place before.
They pulled the wagon around behind the old farmhouse so it would be hidden even if someone ventured down the trail. Everyone pitched in to unhitch and care for their tired mule team. That done, they all unrolled their sleeping bags underneath the wagon and settled down to get some needed sleep.
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