by Steven Brust
Master Wag began touching and pressing the wound, and probing it with a thin, silvery tool that Savn could not recall having seen before, and, as he worked, the Master began to chant softly under his breath. Savn wanted to ask about the incantation, the tool, and the procedure, but he didn’t dare interrupt the spell. The Master broke off long enough to nod toward a pile of herbs and say, “Mash them well and add a little water.”
Vlad began speaking again, muttering phrases of which only a word or two was understandable. Master Wag looked up. “We do not pay attention to the ravings of those under our care,” he said, then returned to his soft chanting.
Savn did not answer. He handed the mortar to the Master, who took it without breaking off and poured the contents over the wound. Then he handed the empty vessel back to Savn and said, “Clean it, crush a small handful of those, put in three drops of this, and add more water to it. When it is done, make him drink it.”
Savn did so, holding Vlad’s head up. Vlad was still speaking, which made it easier to get the liquid down his throat. The Easterner coughed and half-choked, but did manage to swallow it.
The Master stopped his chanting and probing. “Notice,” he said, “how the edges of the wound are red. Are your hands clean? Then touch, here.”
Savn did so, tentatively. The wound seemed even warmer than Vlad’s forehead. “Sometimes,” said Master Wag, “it is possible to find the cause, the vehicle on which the Imps rode into the body. This time we were able to.”
“What?” said Savn.
“See, on the end of the probe?”
“What is it?”
“I believe it is a piece of his clothing, which was driven into the wound.”
“Clothing?”
“We wear clothing, why cannot the Imps? When a piece of cloth enters the body, it is almost certain that the spirits are riding it to a new home. It is our task to expel them. Thus I poured onto the wound the purest water I could find, mixed with laith, which demons hate, and blowfiower leaves which purify. And through his mouth we give him dreamgrass to help him sleep, and prairiesong which cools the soul.”
“I see.”
“Now I push—here—and we expel the Imps. You see how thick and grey is the solution? That is the grey of death. Necromancers are known to use it for evil purposes, so we catch it on a cloth, which we will then burn thoroughly. Here. Set it aside for now, until we have the chance to build a fire. Hand me a clean cloth.”
Savn did these things. Master Wag’s mention of necromancers made him think of His Lordship, but he put the thought out of his head, telling himself sternly to concentrate on the task at hand. As he was reaching for the clean cloth, both jhereg suddenly rose as one, stared down the cave, and hissed.
Savn looked but didn’t see anything. “Who’s there?” he said.
The answer seemed to come from a long distance away, and it was full of echoes. “Savn? Where are you?”
The Master looked at him, his eyebrows raised.
Savn got one of the torches and began walking down back through the cave, the jhereg, still hissing, at his heels. “No,” he told them, “it’s all right.” He wasn’t certain if they believed him; at any rate, they continued hissing.
He found Polyi about fifty feet away, apparently caught between several diverging paths. “What are you doing here?”
“Following you,” she said.
“Why?”
“To see what—Eek!”
“It’s all right,” said Savn. “They won’t hurt you.” He hoped he was right.
“Are those the same—”
Steven Bmst
“Never mind that. Come with me. We’re trying to heal the Easterner.”
“I know. I saw you.”
The jhereg watched Polyi suspiciously, but didn’t seem inclined to attack her. Savn led the way back to where Master Wag was tending Vlad.
“It’s my sister,” he said.
The Master grunted, then said, “Get back to work.”
Polyi didn’t speak.
Savn knelt down and touched Vlad’s forehead, which was still warm, as well as wet with perspiration.
“Bathe his head,” said Master Wag. “And I will teach you the spells. We will recite them together, and we will wait.”
“Savn—” said Polyi.
“Not now,” said Savn.
Less than an hour later, Master Wag touched Vlad’s forehead and said, “His fever has broken. We must let him sleep now.”
“My throat is sore,” said Savn.
“You must practice chanting,” said Master Wag. “Sometimes you will spend hour after hour doing nothing but sitting and reciting the spells. Your Easterner friend is lucky.”
Savn nodded. “How long will he sleep?”
“There’s no way to know. Probably a long time. But when he wakes, he will require water and—”
“Murmumph,” said Vlad. His eyes were open, and his expression was intelligent and aware. The two jhereg, forgotten by the side of the cave, began to hop around near his head. Polyi, who had not spoken for the entire time, just watched, her eyes wide and gleaming in the torchlight.
“I can’t understand you,” said Savn to Vlad.
The Easterner opened his mouth, closed it again, and said, “Who?”
“This is Master Wag. He treated your fever.”
“Fever?” His voice was just above a whisper.
“Yes.”
Vlad glanced quickly at the jhereg and at Polyi, then nodded to Savn.
Master Wag said, “Would you like water? Food?”
“Yes,” said Vlad. “And yes.”
The Master nodded to Savn, who helped Vlad drink from the wineskin. “Do you have food?”
“Yes. I have some bread, and cheese, and spring onions, and beets, and a few seasonings.”
“Help me sit up,” said Vlad. Savn looked at Polyi. She hesitated, then helped Savn assist Vlad. It seemed to be quite an effort for the Easterner, but at last he was in a sitting position, his back very straight. He took slow, deep breaths. Something about the flickering of the torches made his face seem even more gaunt than usual. “More water,” he said.
Savn helped him drink.
“Back down,” said Vlad.
Savn and Polyi helped Vlad lower himself, and when he was flat once more, his breathing was labored. He shut his eyes, and in a few minutes his chest rose and fell normally. Savn became aware for the first time of the smell of Vlad’s sweat—very much like the smell of a human who had been working hard or was ill.
About the time Savn had decided that Vlad had fallen asleep, the Easterner opened his eyes again and said, “Food?”
Polyi said, “Where—?”
“I’ll get it,” said Savn.
He found the sack and rummaged around in it until he found the food. As he tore off a piece of bread, he noticed that his hand was trembling. “What should I give him?” he asked the Master.
“The bread is fine, and perhaps some cheese.”
“Put a spring onion on it,” said Vlad, “and whatever herbs you have.”
Savn did so, and then frowned. “Is it all right?” he asked Master Wag.
“Yes,” said the Master. “You may season the cheese. You must not put another scallion on it.”
Savn held Vlad’s head. Vlad managed a couple of laborious bites before he shook his head and asked for water. Savn supplied it, and Vlad leaned back once more, and this time he did fall asleep. While he slept, Savn tried a bite. Not bad, he decided. He offered some to his sister, who declined with a quick shake of her head.
“He’ll sleep for a while now,” said Master Wag. “Let’s start a fire.”
“Is it safe to leave him here?”
“Probably. But if your sister wants to help you find wood, I can watch him.”
“Would you like to help, Polyi?”
“All right,” she said in a small voice.
They took one of the torches and made their way out to the woods. “Savn,” s
aid Polyi when they were alone. “What is—?”
“Why did you follow us?”
“I thought you’d know where he was.”
“Well, you were right. Now what? Are you going to tell Speaker where we are?”
“I don’t know.”
They gathered sticks and fagots from the thinly wooded area above the caves. “Why are you helping him?” she said.
“Because he’s my friend, and because everyone else is after him, and he didn’t do anything.”
“Didn’t do anything? You saw Reins.”
“What makes you think he killed Reins?”
“What makes you think he didn’t? And what about all those men of His Lordship’s?”
“They attacked him.”
“Well, but what’s he doing here, anyway? Who is he?”
Savn remembered some of the things Vlad had uttered while feverish, and didn’t answer.
They brought the wood back into the cave. “Where shall we put the fire?” asked Savn.
“Over here,” said the Master. “Even though his fever is broken, we don’t want him getting too warm. Burn the cloth, keep the fire going, and I’ll return tomorrow. You should sleep, too.”
Savn nodded. The three of them built the fire together, after making certain there was enough of a draft to carry the smoke out of the cave.
“Tomorrow,” said the Master.
“I’ll still be here,” said Savn.
“You will?” asked Polyi.
“Yes.”
Master Wag left without another word, taking one of the torches to guide him out. Savn made a pillow out of Vlad’s pack, another out of one of the blankets, and stretched out on the hard cave floor. “I’m tired,” he said. “We’ll talk more after I’ve slept.” Actually, he doubted that he’d be able to fall asleep, but he didn’t know what to tell his sister.
As it turned out, he was wrong; he fell asleep almost at once.
Savn woke up to a not-unpleasant, wet warmth in his ear, accompanied by a nibbling that was almost affectionate and tickled. He rolled away from it, but the hard floor of the cave woke him more fully, and as he realized what was licking his ear, he sat up abruptly with a half-stifled scream. The smaller of the jhereg scurried away, then turned to look at him, its wings folded in tightly and its snakelike head bobbing up and down. Savn had the feeling that he was being laughed at.
“What happened?” said Polyi.
“Nothing,” said Savn, feeling himself blush and hoping Polyi couldn’t see his face in the dim light. The fire had gone out and so had one of the torches. The other torch was burning strongly.
Savn glanced at Vlad, who was awake and staring at the ceiling, apparently oblivious to the comedy being performed around him.
“How do you feel?” asked Savn.
“Water.” His voice seemed no stronger than it had be—
fore. Savn wondered how much time had passed, and was surprised to learn that it had been almost four hours.
“A moment,” said Savn. He lit a new torch and replaced the one that had gone out, then stepped into a side cave and relieved himself. When he returned, he found the skin and made sure there was still water in it, then helped Vlad to drink. Vlad seemed to have some difficulty swallowing. When he had done so, he said, “Weak.”
“Food?”
“Later.”
“If you need to ease yourself, there is a place not far from here, but you’ll have to get up and—”
“I’m all right for now,” said Vlad.
“Over there?” said Polyi. “I’ll be right back.”
The jhereg who had nuzzled Savn did the same to Vlad, who attempted a smile. Savn, watching, had mixed feelings. A little later, Vlad announced that he was ready to eat, and Savn and Polyi helped him do so. The bread was going stale but was still edible. Vlad had another drink of water. Then, with Savn’s help, he pulled himself over to the nearest wall so he could sit up and lean against it.
With no warning or explanation, both jhereg suddenly turned and began flying out of the cave. Vlad did not appear surprised. Savn wondered if they could see in the dark, like bats and dzur.
“What are we going to do?” asked Polyi.
“I don’t know,” said Savn. “It depends on Vlad.”
“Do?” said the Easterner weakly. “About what?”
“Well, they must still be after you.”
“Yes.”
“Can you teleport out of here?”
“Not now.”
“Why?”
Vlad searched Savn’s face. “Too weak,” he said at last.
“Oh.”
“Must recover first,” said Vlad.
“And then?”
Vlad looked slightly puzzled, as if Savn had asked him whether harvest came before or after planting. “Then I
must kill Lord Smallcliff, of course,” he said, and, as if producing such a long sentence had exhausted him, he fell back asleep.
She felt his unhappiness as if it were a cord that connected them, though she didn’t express it to herself that way. But there was a feeling of painful unease that made its way into her consciousness, and it was connected to the Provider, to his injuries.
They spiraled up from the caves, stopping below the overcast, and they began their search out over the bare fields between the town and the woods.
She hated hunting.
She enjoyed flying, and she enjoyed searching the ground for food, but she didn’t like chases, and she certainly didn’t like fights. In one case, she was certain to get tired; in the other, she might get hurt. And—
There was a movement, small and furtive, almost directly below her. She told her lover, but made no sudden moves. They rose and described a slow, leisurely turn. Her straining eyes picked out a patch of brown that didn’t quite blend with the surrounding grass and weeds. They continued past it once more, dividing up and selecting the best angles from which to attack. If one had to hunt, it was better together.
And sometimes, one had no choice.
Chapter Twelve
I will not marry a fat old cook,
I will not marry a fat old cook.
For the larding pan I’d be forsook.
Hi-dee hi-dee ho-la!
Step on out ...
After the silence that followed Vlad’s declaration, Polyi echoed Savn’s own thoughts: “He can’t mean it.”
Savn stared at the sleeping Easterner, but the things he’d said while delirious wouldn’t go away. “I don’t think so either,” said Savn at last. “But ...”
“But what?” said Polyi when he didn’t continue.
“But I don’t know. Let’s get the fire going.”
“All right.”
They managed to get the fire started, and after some discussion, decided there was enough wood to keep it going for a while without having to leave the cave again, which neither of them felt inclined to do.
“Mae and Pae must be pretty worried about us,” said Polyi.
“Yeah,” said Savn.
“Well, I think we should tell them where we are,” said Polyi.
Savn shook his head. “They’ll tell Speaker, sure as drought in summer.”
Polyi stared at the sleeping Easterner, and Savn could practically feel her thinking, So what! And the worst of it was that he didn’t know how to answer that thought.
A few minutes later there was the sound of flapping wings. Polyi jumped and stifled a shriek, and the two jhereg landed on the floor of the cave.
“It’s all right,” said Savn. “They’re tame.”
“Tame?” said Polyi, sounding on the verge, of hysteria.
“Well, I mean, they’re friends of his.”
She stared at the Easterner wide-eyed, while the larger of the jhereg deposited what looked like a dead norska. They walked triumphantly over to Vlad and sat down near his head.
Polyi looked a question at Savn, who said, “I guess he wanted meat.”
“But how—?”
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��Let’s find something we can use as a spit.”
Polyi looked at him, questions dancing on her face, but she didn’t ask any of them. They looked through the wood they’d collected and found something suitable, while the two jhereg seemed to be arguing with each other about whether the norska should be eaten right away. Savn settled the issue by taking it away from them and proceeding to skin it as best he could, which earned him an angry hiss from the larger jhereg.
“Sometimes,” said Savn, “people say really funny things when they’re feverish. Once Needles had the Dry Fever for almost two days, and she—”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Polyi. “He can’t mean it.”
“Yes. No one can kill His Lordship anyway, because of the box.”
“That’s right.”
Savn set the bloody skin aside for the moment, wondering what to do with it so it wouldn’t attract pests. They worked the makeshift spit through the norska.
“What should we set it on?” asked Polyi.
“I don’t know. Two of the logs?”
“What if they catch fire?”
“Well, we don’t have any big stones or anything.”
“We could just sit on each side of the fire and hold it.”
“I guess. How long will it take to cook?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can you tell when it’s done?”
“Can you?”
“Maybe,” said Savn, and motioned Polyi over to the other side of the fire. “Best to keep it as high as we can, so we don’t burn it.”
Blood and fat dripped on the fire, sending the flames higher and making the cave alarmingly bright, but after only two minutes Polyi announced, “My arm’s getting tired.”
“Mine too,” Savn admitted. “I don’t think this is going to work.”
“Well, what should we do?”
They moved away from the fire and set the slightly warmed norska down on the floor of the cave. Savn glanced at Vlad, and observed that the Easterner was awake, and watching him intently.
“Why don’t you see if you can find something,” said Savn.
“Me?” said Polyi.
“You,” said Savn.
She started to argue, then scowled and got up. “Take a torch with you,” he said. She didn’t answer.
Savn turned to Vlad and said, “They brought you some dinner; we’re trying to figure out how to cook it.”