The Healer's Legacy

by Sharon Skinner

  “In the future,” the holder said, “you will notify me if you plan to take my niece out of the hold for any reason, and you will not have her outside these walls after dark.”

  His tone was harsh, but Kira heard something else. She heard the sound of her father’s voice when he scolded her for venturing too far from their cot. The voice that warned of danger, the voice that feared for her safety, the voice that wished to protect. It warmed her to know the holder felt that same way about his niece. “Yes, Holder Tem.”

  He started to leave, but his shoulders stiffened suddenly and he rounded on her. “And you will not take her out to hunt at any time!”

  Kira started. Trad shimmied sideways with a high whinny, pulling her around and nearly tearing the reins from her hand. Kira stroked his mane, speaking quietly to him. When she turned back, the holder had gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Kira entered the hall and strode briskly to the table where Milvari waited. Her young student had paper and ink laid out on the table. Milvari glanced up at Kira’s approach. Worry darkened her face.

  “Good morn, Milvari,” Kira said. “Is something wrong?”

  Milvari dropped her head and let her hair fall forward. She reminded Kira of the frightened child she had been after the death of her parents. With a gentle touch, she raised the girl’s head so she could see her face and gave her a reassuring smile. “Milvari, please go and let your uncle know that we will be going outside the hold for our lesson today.”

  Milvari’s eyes grew round. “But—”

  Milvari swallowed hard, but she didn’t turn away from Kira. “What if he gets angry?”

  Kira put her hand on Milvari’s shoulder. She understood the girl’s fear. But the holder had not acted out his anger in physical violence. “He was angry last night,” she said softly, “and no one was harmed.”

  Milvari’s eyes glistened. “But what if he sends us away from Tem Hold?” Her voice trembled.

  Kira was caught off guard by the question. “Why would he do that?”

  Milvari’s lower lip quivered. “Because I’m not a proper lady and he won’t be able to find me a husband and he doesn’t want to have to take care of us forever,” she blurted.

  “Oh Milvari, I had no idea.” She sat beside the girl and put an arm around her shoulders. “Did he really say that to you?”

  “No,” Milvari said. “He didn’t say it. She did.” She turned to Kira. “Do you think—?”

  “She?”

  “Mother. She’s always telling me what a burden we are to him. How angry he is when I don’t behave like a proper lady.” Her dark eyes flashed. “It’s not true, is it? He’s not like that at all. Is he?”

  Kira thought about the concern the holder had shown for his niece’s safety. “No,” she said. “I don’t believe he is.”

  “Why does she say those things?”

  Kira shrugged. “I cannot say.”

  “I hate her!” Milvari jumped up and ran from the room.

  Kira wanted to go after the girl, but something told her that Milvari needed time. Betrayal by a loved one was a hard pain to bear, and Milvari felt betrayed by her own mother. Kira could not understand what would make someone lie and say such things to a child.

  Kira wondered what would happen now. Her plan to teach Milvari more about plants today hadn’t gone very well. She opened the book of animal drawings and turned the pages distractedly. The renderings were realistic, the accompanying descriptions penned in a neat hand. Each animal was depicted in its natural environment, its habits described in detail. It reminded her of the scrolls she had produced during her time with Heresta. She had worked hard to make her drawings as accurate as possible. She would go over them with her mentor and refine them until she knew the plants intimately. The person who had drawn the animals in this book knew them and understood them well.

  “I had hoped Tratine would be interested enough to want to improve his skills in letters.”

  Kira jumped, letting the book fall shut.

  Holder Tem moved from behind her. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, picking up the book and leafing through it.

  He stood a hand’s breadth away. So near that the warmth of his body caressed her skin. She shifted in her chair.

  “It was my field guide,” he said. “My father had me make it when I was near to Tratine’s age. He used it as a tool to interest me in my lessons.”

  So, the precise drawings were his. She waited to see if he would say more, but he was absorbed by the little book. His face was calm. The stern, angry holder was gone, and the caring man she had glimpsed the night before stood beside her. Kira was mystified. She felt her head tingle, realized she was staring, stood and walked to the window. The tingling was like the pull from Vaith or Kelmir when they wanted her attention, but with a subtle difference. There was no clear message. It was like a faint whisper drifting on a summer’s breeze. A whisper so quiet it could not be understood.

  Outside, gauzy clouds drifted across a pale blue sky. It would have been a perfect day to take Milvari out to gather herbs. Kira hesitated. Why should she fear to do what she had earlier suggested be done by Milvari? “Holder Tem,” she began. His silence made her turn to face him. He was staring past her out the window at something distant.

  “Holder Tem?”

  He dropped his gaze. His face flushed. “Your pardon,” he said. “I must have been daydreaming. Not appropriate behavior for a holder, I’m afraid.” He handed the book to Kira and his face settled back into its familiar severity. “What do you require, Hunter?”

  “I’ve discovered that your niece has a keen interest in the lore of plants.” Kira phrased her words with care and watched him closely. “I see that you understand the importance of inspiring young people to learn, and I would like your permission to foster her interest.”

  “And why should she be taught such lore?”

  “Merely as a way to strengthen her interest in her other lessons, I assure you. To encourage her as you thought this might encourage Tratine.” She held up the book.

  “I see. And you feel that this is the best way for Milvari to learn?”

  Kira looked him in the eye. “Yes.”

  He stared back at her. The strange tingle edged its way along her scalp. She ran her fingers through her hair and the sensation faded.

  “All right,” he said finally. “You may take her outside the hold for afternoon lessons as weather and time permit. But only until her mother returns. There are some battles not worth fighting.”

  Kira smiled in surprise at hearing one of Heresta’s sayings on another’s lips. “Thank you, Holder Tem. I know that Milvari will learn much.”

  The holder began to say more, but then he merely shrugged and walked away.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Kira sat at the table in the little alcove off the kitchen. Across from her, Milvari busily jotted notes on a small bit of parchment. As Brilissa filled three large mugs with hot tea, Kira pulled a dark green, leafy plant with long thin tendrils out of the canvas pouch that hung at her side. “Most of the plants in the region are familiar to me, but this one I have never seen before. Do you know it?” she asked.

  Brilissa settled into the chair beside Kira and examined the plant. “I’m not much for plants that aren’t used for cooking, but this one I know.” She promptly wiped her hands on her apron. “Demon’s Claw, I’ve heard it called. You should destroy it.”

  Milvari stopped writing. “Why do we need to destroy it?”

  “Eating it causes burning in the mouth and stomach, a heavy sickness of the bowels, headache and fever. Some describe it like being clutched by a demon, so I’ve heard. It will make a grazing animal sick to death for days.”

  Kira drizzled a spoonful of golden honey into her mug. “I thought it might be poisonous. The deer have left the grass surrounding it uncropped. It’s a good thing I kept Trad away from the patch. Unlike wild deer, some grazing animals don’t know any better.” />
  “We ought to tell Harl,” Milvari said. She took a sip from her mug.

  Kira smiled. In the past fortnight, Milvari had grown confident enough to speak openly to both Brilissa and Kira. Perhaps she could be pushed a little further. “I agree. You should tell him as soon as you’ve finished your tea.”

  Milvari blanched. “Me?”

  “You found it. Besides, I’ve work to do,” Kira cast a glance at Brilissa.

  “But I—” Milvari set her cup down. She tilted her head forward as if to let the hair fall over her eyes, but her long locks had been pulled back into a thick braid. “I wouldn’t know what to say to him,” she mumbled.

  Kira pushed the leafy plant across the table. “You know where the patch is and you can take this with you, in case he’s never seen it before.”

  Milvari stared at the plant as if it were a venomous reptile.

  “Go on,” Kira said. “Take it.” She bit the insides of her cheeks to keep herself from smiling as Milvari continued to stare at the leafy stalk.

  “I’ve got to get back to the kitchen before something boils over or catches fire,” Brilissa said and bustled out of the room. As she passed by Kira on her way to the door, she covered her mouth to smother her amusement.

  Milvari sat still for a long moment. “Couldn’t you tell him when you go out to see to Trad?” she asked in a plaintive voice.

  “Milvari, this is something you need to do. I’ve told you before that the knowledge you’re gaining comes with a certain amount of responsibility. Someone needs to let people know of dangers like this. Sooner or later, you must be that someone. You know I won’t be here at Tem Hold forever.”

  Milvari jerked her head up. “You always say that, but I thought you might change your mind. You like it here, don’t you?” Her lower lip trembled, and her eyes glittered in the flickering candlelight.

  Kira’s mirth drained away. “I can’t stay,” she said with a wistful smile. “I wish that I could, but . . .” She reached over and gave Milvari’s hand a squeeze. “You can do this.”

  Milvari pulled her hand away. “Fine,” she said, grabbing the plant. “I will tell Harl about the danger.” She turned and marched out of the room.

  Kira sighed as the young girl’s angry steps receded. Had she pushed Milvari too far? She stared down at the dark liquid cooling in her mug, but unlike Heresta she had no gift of dreams or foresight, and no answers swirled into view.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Milvari paused inside the stable door, waiting as her eyes adjusted to the duskiness. The Demon’s Claw felt sticky and heavy in her hand. She listened for a moment to the rustle and scratch of the hay rake before taking a hesitant step toward the sound. As she stood, willing herself to take another step, a gate opened and Harl backed out of a stall, pulling a full wheelbarrow. With an expert twist he swung the loaded cart around and started toward the stable door. Milvari stood frozen in place.

  Harl stopped. “Your pardon, m’Lady.”

  Milvari realized she was staring and lowered her gaze. She kept her eyes on the ground and stuck out her hand, holding the plant up where he could see it.

  “Do you want to feed that to the horses?” he asked.

  Milvari frowned. “Why would I do that?”

  “You used to—I mean—that is—”

  Milvari’s mouth popped open in surprise, and she let her hand fall to her side. He’d seen her feed the horses? She thought she’d been alone. She’d been so careful. Her eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”

  The wheelbarrow wobbled and he set it down on its supports. “I saw you.” He wiped his hands on his breeches and shrugged.

  Milvari peered at him. He seemed flushed. Had he been watching her, the way that she had watched him? She held up the plant once more. “I came to show you this.”

  He stepped forward and stared at the cutting. “What is it?”

  Milvari’s hand began to tremble as he drew closer. “It’s a . . . poisonous plant . . . we . . . I found.”

  Harl reached for the plant, his rough fingers brushing hers as he took the leafy stem. Milvari drew back her hand. Her cheeks grew hot.

  Harl seemed not to notice. He turned the cutting over in his hand and flattened out one of the dark leaves. “I’ve seen this before,” he said. “You’re right that it is bad for the animals, but I can’t remember what it’s called.”

  “Demon’s Claw. It causes mouth and stomach pain, fever, headache, and—” Milvari stopped, embarrassed. Harl was watching her, a lopsided smile on his face.

  “And other complications,” he finished for her, his face contorted into a comical grimace.

  Milvari giggled and covered her mouth to keep from laughing. “Yes,” she said. “Other complications.”

  Harl chortled. Milvari tried to contain herself, but his mirth was contagious. Soon they were both laughing out loud.

  “Harl!” the stable master called from the back stalls. “What are you doing, boy? These stalls won’t clean themselves.”

  Harl gave Milvari a sly wink. “Yes, Master Jarrett. I was just conferring with Mistress Milvari about a patch of Demon’s Claw she’s discovered.” He winked at her.

  “Demon’s Claw, you say?” The stable master’s swift approach surprised Milvari. She had never before seen him move at such a rapid pace. He wore heavy boots and breeches of canvas, and his uneven gait seemed to slow him down most of the time. She had watched the stable master from the shadows, but not as much as she had watched Harl, she realized with a warm rush.

  Master Jarret’s round face was ruddy with exertion. He held out a gloved hand and Harl placed the plant in it.

  The stable master flattened the plant out, prodding it with his fingers. “Hmmmmm . . . long tendrils, yes . . . yes, dark green leaves with narrowing tips. It’s Demon’s Claw, all right.” He looked up at Milvari. “Where did you say you found it?”

  Milvari stared at him her eyes wide. He saw her. He was speaking to her.

  Master Jarrett leaned forward. “Mistress Milvari?”

  Her mouth opened and closed, but words refused to form.

  Harl stood watching her. He nodded encouragement, but Milvari stood mute. Harl took a step back so the stable master wouldn’t see him, pointed at the plant and grimaced. She had to purse her lips together to keep from laughing. She opened her mouth once more and the words rushed out of her. “North of the hold, about three leagues distance. On the western edge of the big meadow that lies inside a circle of frost berry trees.”

  The stable master squinted his face in thought. “Three leagues, yes . . . big meadow . . . circle of trees, yes, yes, yes. I know the place. Harl, we’ll need to be sure to tell the herdsmen. They’ll have to avoid the place. Yes . . . then we’ll need to speak to the holder. He’ll want to send someone out to destroy it. But not till winter. Maybe spring. It will have to be burned, and it’s too dry to risk a fire now.”

  “It’s a good thing Mistress Milvari found the patch, isn’t it, Master Jarrett?” Harl grinned.

  Master Jarrett’s face smoothed out. “Yes, yes, it is. Very good,” he said. He handed the plant back to Harl. “Make sure this is properly burned, my boy,” he said. “Wouldn’t want any of the animals getting a lip on it. Yes, indeed.” He went back to his work, his gait slowed now by the dragging of his left leg. His foot twisted at an odd angle, swinging out with each step. Milvari had often wondered if he’d always had the limp, but had been afraid to ask anyone about it. She wanted to ask Harl now, but she didn’t want Master Jarrett to overhear her. She wouldn’t want to embarrass him.

  She signaled frantically for Harl to follow her and turned to leave.

  “Yes, of course, m’Lady,” Harl said louder than necessary.

  Milvari tried to shush him, but he only smiled and called out louder. “Of course, we’ll take the plant and burn it right away.” He followed her out of the stable.

  Once outside he gave Milvari a conspiratorial look and she let out a relieved laugh. “I
only wanted to ask about Master Jarret’s leg,” she said. “I’ve never heard him speak of it. Was it injured somehow?”

  Harl gave her sidelong glance. “Has no one ever told you?”

  “Told me what?”

  Harl hesitated. “Perhaps they haven’t,” he said. “No one speaks of it much.” He looked around. “Come on. We’ll take this to the ash heap and burn it.”

  * * *

  Harl stared straight ahead.

  They stood before the mound of ash, watching the small pile of dried sticks catch fire. The leaves and tendrils of Demon’s Claw curled and withered atop the burning twigs, emitting a bitter smoke that stung Milvari’s nose and eyes. “They say he nearly gave his own life trying to save Holder Kamar,” Harl said in a low voice.

  His flick eyes toward Milvari. She focused on the burning plant and the thin wisp of smoke that rose into the pale blue sky.

  “My mother never speaks of it,” she whispered.

  “You must miss your father very much.” Harl snapped a twig into small pieces and fed them to the flames.

  Milvari wrinkled her brow. “I was very young when it happened,” she said. “But I do have a few recollections of him. Most of the time, in my memories, his arms are strong and warm, but his face seems hazy and distant.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “What about you?” she asked. “I’ve never seen your parents. Are they—?”

  “Alive? Yes. Being so far from our own croft though, I rarely see them.”

  “Don’t you miss them?”

  “Sometimes.” He sighed. “But there were far more of us then the croft could support. All boys, too.” He picked up a stick and poked at the fire. Sparks jumped and rose with the acrid smoke. “Being the youngest, I’d have gotten the smallest share of land, if any share were left to have. I didn’t really want to be a crofter, anyway. When Master Jarrett offered to take me as his apprentice, I made ready to go without another thought.”