Dark Healer (An Empire Falls Book 1)

by Harry Leighton

  *****

  Two streets away as they walked along, Alia said, “So what did he mean, ‘back in the game’?”

  “Hmm?” Jonas said distantly, hand in his pocket, fingering the money pouch. More than he’d thought in it. They were certainly okay for money now for a while.

  “You’re doing it again,” Alia chided gently.

  “Sorry, lot on my mind.”

  “So, you retire or something?”

  “Eh? Oh. No, not really.”

  “So what did he mean?” she pressed.

  “In my younger days, I took on some slightly more dangerous jobs.”

  “Dangerous how? It’s not like we can do what we’ve been doing with our eyes shut.”

  “Well, potentially dangerous. To do with the potential of the sorts of people we were after.”

  “We?”

  “You’re like a dog with a bone this morning, aren’t you?”

  “Oi.”

  Jonas sighed. “Okay, a pretty young princess with a new obsession.”

  Alia glared at him.

  “You see I don’t much want to talk about this, right?”

  Alia nodded.

  “But you’re going to keep asking anyway?”

  “Yes. Especially after the dog and the princess.”

  “Okay, okay. It’s like having a persistent little daughter with all the ‘why why why?’ all the time.”

  “I’m sorry Daddy, now please go on with your story.”

  “I think if you had been my daughter, you’d have been the death of me. I’m aging visibly just talking to you.”

  Alia swallowed her next comment with difficulty.

  “Nothing pithy to say about my age this time?”

  “I want to hear about the more dangerous jobs in your past.”

  Jonas stopped and leaned back against a convenient wall. He looked around to see who might be listening

  Seeing that there was no one nearby, Jonas started again.

  “Well there are two sorts of commissions as a bounty hunter. There’s the stuff we’re taking on now and then there’s the government commissions,” he said, stressing the last two words.

  “Not something I’ve heard about,” Alia said, interested.

  “Only a few hunters know about them or take them on really. They’re for more sensitive targets.”

  “Like high ranking officials and their families, that sort of thing?”

  “No, no, no. There are official contracted people for that sort of thing. That sort of thing almost never gets passed out to the scum like us.”

  “Speak for yourself.”

  “Do you want me to tell you about this or not?”

  “Sorry. Please go on.”

  “What I’m talking about are suspected mages.”

  “What?” Alia nearly choked.

  Jonas looked around to see if they had drawn any attention. All clear.

  “Mages,” he repeated.

  “Thought there hadn’t been any confirmed cases of that for a very long time?”

  “Hah.”

  “Shit. Really?”

  Jonas looked at her, surprised. For all their banter, she didn’t swear often.

  “So, some sort of cover up?” she said. “How is that even possible?”

  “Oh, it’s been a long while since there’s been anything really big.” He paused. “That I’ve heard about anyway. Doesn’t mean that they don’t exist though.”

  Alia looked around, worried.

  Jonas chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?” she said a little sharply, turning back to him.

  “It’s still rare. In fact, most of the hunts I went on, it was nothing. Some wise woman brewing herbs or a child that liked to play with fire.”

  “Is that last one a dig at me?” Alia said, rallying.

  “Dual purpose. Point being that I’ve only been on a small number of hunts where it turned out to be an actual magic user. But, frankly, they were terrifying.”

  Alia started at that. Jonas stared at her.

  “I honestly can’t imagine you scared of anything,” she said quietly after a moment.

  “Why’s that?”

  “You’re so big … and just … sure.”

  Jonas smiled gently.

  “That anything out there scares you, terrifies me,” Alia said.

  “I might be big, but the world is bigger. And it’s full of horrors. All we can do is straighten our shoulders, force a smile and meet it head on.”

  Alia was silent.

  Jonas sighed. “I’m bigger and uglier than most of the things we’re likely to meet today so you’re probably safe.”

  Alia forced a smile.

  “That’s better.”

  “So,” she said after a moment.

  “So?”

  “One thing is bothering me.”

  “One thing?”

  “Well, I’d like to hear about the mage hunts and why you ‘retired’ but I’d rather save that for when I’ve got stone walls around me, a good fire going and a beer in my hand.”

  Jonas laughed. “Okay, maybe then, but no promises. So what’s the thing?”

  “The crossbow.”

  “Yes, that bothered me too.”

  “Isn’t that like, really illegal?”

  “Yes. And he knew it, too.”

  “So, why then?”

  “I don’t know. He was never really much of one for rules, but that was unusual.”

  “You know him well then?”

  “Knew. Went on a couple of hunts together a long time back.”

  “Mages?”

  “One. Though, as agreed, we’ll talk about that some other time.”

  “Could that have been a mage he was after?” Alia said with an involuntary shiver.

  “No. Or certainly not a dangerous one. That’s really not how those sorts of hunts go down. Anyway, it’s time we were moving on. We have a lot to do.”

  Alia straightened her shoulders and painted a smile on her face. “Let’s go,” she said.

  Jonas smiled to himself, straightened up from the wall and started walking, Alia in tow.

  *****

  Marlen sat quietly on the cot, thinking as he glanced idly around the monastery cell, waiting for his appointment with the abbot.

  It was a long shot. But occasionally they were the ones that paid off best. He’d learned never to take anything for granted in his long years.

  The monks here were unusual people. He’d heard rumours that they’d more than a secret or two hidden and whilst he’d dearly love to spend the next few years slowly taking the place apart and learning everything they guarded, he was on something of a timetable.

  And on this occasion, he was here for something in particular. He’d been hearing a lot about a local legend while he’d been practicing on and off in the area. Some people liked to talk as you were fixing them. Or as they thought you were anyway. Which in a sense he had been, in all cases, just not always in the way people might expect.

  The stories, though. Or, perhaps more accurately, fables. He’d heard tell of a devil child who had terrorised the area centuries before. That sort of tale in itself was nothing unusual, but some of the details about the boy were quite specific and cropped up in most of the versions of the story he came across from village to village.

  Where the stories diverged, though, was that each village seemed to have its own local version of how the boy had come to be in the first place. He’d heard of couplings with evil gods, devils and demons but he put little store in any of that. He’d come across nothing in his many years to suggest anything like that existed. Other versions talked of coupling with beasts. That had interested him more. Oh, the concept itself disgusted him, but it was interesting to see what came from people’s minds. And, of course, this too was also nonsense. Animals needed a certain amount of compatibility for that sort of thing to work. He’d not experimented with it himself, simple observation of various animal breeders’ attempts at crossbreeding
and the relative successes and failures told him all he needed to know on that score.

  There were certain peoples that might have been sufficiently compatible though, not that he’d been able to test that himself. They were rather … hard to find. And hardly willing. That they had been the source of the ‘devil child’ was also unlikely. No, it wasn’t until someone had suggested magic that he’d really started to have any interest at all and even then he’d considered it rather unlikely on balance. Most places had fireside tales of mages but few had seen one. Knowingly anyway, Marlen smiled to himself. But centuries of pogroms from the Empire had made magic users vanishingly rare and definitive evidence of their activities hard to find. He should know, he’d spent most of his life looking. Stories outweighed facts to an extreme degree and after so many years even he was starting to get a little tired of chasing down each and every lead he came across. So now he was more selective.

  And yet … here he was. It had been almost a throwaway comment at the last village that had led him here, too. Mention that the monks knew all about it. Kept secret works in their library. Had documented it. He was sceptical of course. But he’d heard about the library before. Supposedly a decent resource on healing lore so he had planned to come here someday when time permitted and have a look around, not that he was likely to learn that much more than the already knew. But, he had been nearby anyway and his imagination had eventually been caught by what might have been the story behind the legend. If any side trip was going to be worth his time, it might be this one.

  “He will see you now.”

  Marlen looked up to see a monk standing at the doorway. “Excellent,” he said, standing and picking up his staff.

  “Would you mind leaving that here?” the monk said, indicating the staff.

  “I use it for walking,” Marlen said, giving him a curious look.

  The monk looked at him sceptically. “You seem rather a young man to have trouble walking,” the monk said.

  If only you knew, Marlen thought to himself. Still it didn’t pay to be difficult and it wasn’t as if he was going to need it anyway. No one here was going to put him in any danger. Or rather, he doubted anyone here was capable of putting him in any danger.

  “As you wish,” he said, leaning the staff against a wall. “Lead on.”

  The monk led him through a number of halls before taking him into a large but spartan office and standing quietly off to one side. There was an old but alert looking man sat behind a somewhat battered desk.

  “What can I do for you, my son?” the abbot said.

  Marlen smiled inwardly. Son. The man was probably ten years younger than him. Not that you’d have known to look at the pair of them. Healing magic did have its advantages.

  “Many people talk highly of your healing library. I would like to consult your tomes,” Marlen said, trying to strike the proper level of reverence in his tone.

  The abbot frowned. “Our library is not normally for public use.”

  “I am a healer, looking to further my knowledge,” Marlen said carefully. “I have been in the area for a while and have helped many people. News has probably passed this way of my activities. Healing is my life. My only goal is to be able to help as many people as I can.”

  The abbot looked awkward. “That is a noble aim, my son.”

  Marlen studied the abbot closely for a moment. “You have been feeling unwell lately?” he asked.

  “The trial of time,” the abbot said.

  “Perhaps,” Marlen said. “Have a number of foods started to disagree with you? Have you been losing weight recently?”

  The abbot gave him a startled look. “What makes you say that?”

  “I can see it in your face,” Marlen said. “Medicine is my profession. I know what to look for. It is something I can help you with, if you’ll permit me.”

  “What are you going to do?” the abbot asked.

  “I can prepare a small tincture. You can take a little now, and a little more with each meal. You should start to feel better fairly quickly.”

  “I cannot consume alcohol. It is against my vows.”

  “No matter. I can use apple cider vinegar.”

  “You would do this?”

  “Of course. It is my calling.”

  “What do you need?” the abbot asked.

  Marlen looked down and rummaged in a pouch hanging from his belt. He drew out a small phial and a small number of wrapped dried herbs. It didn’t really matter which, they weren’t going to be the active ingredient. “Do you have any vinegar handy?” he said.

  The abbot nodded at the monk who had led Marlen there, and he disappeared through the door in the direction of what Marlen assumed was probably the kitchens. He took the time whilse they waited to put a small amount of herbs in the phial, making a show of measuring the quantities carefully. The monk returned quickly, bearing a small flask. Marlen took it, unstoppered it and sniffed it carefully.

  “This will do fine,” he said before pouring a small amount of the liquid carefully into the phial with the herbs. Handing the flask back, he stoppered the phial and shook it carefully. Without being asked, he demonstrated the safety of his mixture by opening it and tipping a couple of drops onto his tongue. He smiled at the abbot and swallowed.

  “I wasn’t expecting you to poison me, my son,” the abbot said.

  “It’s always best to be careful,” Marlen replied. He concentrated and sent a little energy into the phial, upending it slightly as he did so that the mixture came into contact with the cork at the same time his finger did. “Here,” he said to the monk, offering the phial. “Would you take this over please?” The monk did as he was asked without complaint. The abbot looked at the phial.

  “A couple of drops now, and the same with each meal,” Marlen said.

  The abbot came to a decision and copied Marlen’s action, carefully tipping a couple of drops onto his tongue. He swallowed. Marlen watched patiently. Wait for it …

  The abbot gave him a strange look. “My stomach feels … settled.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it. You’ll need to repeat the dose several times for the effect to last, however.”

  “I am grateful. You are most kind.”

  “The library?”

  “I’m sure we can make an exception for you,” the abbot said. He looked at the monk. “Please, take our guest to the library.”

  *****

  “What can I help you with?” Magath asked as Trimas approached and led him to the other side of camp where Daeholf and Zedek where standing.

  “You’ve seen how the travellers have a fortune in jewellery on them, with them.”

  “Yes, we’ll make a tidy profit helping them.”

  “True,” Trimas added, “but we need to help them more.”

  “What?”

  Daeholf took over. “Slake and his men are planning to rob them and leave. Probably take the horses and flee.”

  “No!”

  “You don’t have to believe us,” Daeholf explained, a hand raised to keep Magath listening. “We are not asking for violence or conflict. I want your permission to break from the group, to lead the travellers myself with their horses and one borrowed from you, away from Slake, and I will rejoin you when we reach the town we’re riding for.”

  Magath didn’t reply immediately. Instead he turned and looked at his guards. “I’ve worked with them for a while.”

  “People break,” Zedek said, “he is nearly broken.”

  “No fighting, you just take them away?”

  “Yes. I will pay you the amount they promised, I will collect it when we arrive.”

  “How do I know you’re not cutting me out of a profit?”

  Trimas smiled. “You don’t have to pay us until Daeholf returns with the money.”

  “You’ve thought this through.”

  “We don’t have to fight those men,” Daeholf pointed out, “we just remove temptation, everyone gets to base.”

  Magath nodded. “I
n that case, I agree.”

  *****

  The fat man was having trouble sleeping, what with his fear of bears, which he imagined charging out from the woods and chewing on his very suitable body. If only they were back in the coach with the walls of wood between. Actually, would that have stopped a bear? Could they eat through a coach, and ...

  He didn’t know how Daeholf did it, but in an instant the man was next to him with a finger on his fat mouth. Once the traveller nodded, Daeholf took the finger away, put his mouth up to the fat man’s ear, and began whispering.

  “We need to leave, silently, or else you will be robbed. We are getting up, without a sound, leading your horses away on foot, and only when I say so will we mount and ride for your lives.”

  *****

  Alia looked at the two men as they approached. She knew where this was going. Perhaps this time she might actually have to use the knife. But she wasn’t worried . Her dad had taught her how to deal with drunken soldiers and there were plenty of people within shouting distance.

  Using the knife was going to come with repercussions though. The sergeant overseeing the camp followers wouldn’t like it at all. Hopefully not enough to make her leave. This might not be the best of lives, but it was still home. Her father might be gone but she still had friends here.

  She patted the back of her dress just to be on the safe side, reassuring herself that the knife was still there.

  She studied the men as they got closer. They looked very similar. Twins, almost. No, actually twins. It was uncanny. This felt wrong. She shuddered. There was something wrong with their eyes. Their eyes … they were glowing. And the ground started smoking where they walked.

  Alia moaned.

  She went for her knife, but suddenly it wasn’t there. The men stopped a few feet away, smiling, and one of them produced the knife. He held it out in front of him and it rose out of his hand into the air and started twirling slowly.

  “Looking for this?” he sneered.

  This was wrong. Alia shouted out. The men laughed.

  The knife floated slowly over to her and hovered just out of reach but suddenly she couldn’t move. She shouted again.