The Healer and the Warrior

by Bekah Clark

  As I took to my feet, a hush fell over the group and I didn’t need to see to feel the eyes of the people who had been talking after the sermon. But I did anyways. I dipped my head with a soft smile and turned away, intent on leaving the temple. There was a red-framed painting of Mount Caden near the door. Letting an air of reverence settle over me, I studied the painting before I placed my hand on the red frame. Behind me, there was a gasp, as if they expected me to burst into flames. When I did not, people started talking once more, and I slowly left the temple. I didn’t want to hurry and appear to be fleeing.

  Outside, I took a deep breath and headed toward my home. I kept my head high as I made my way down the lane. Inside, emotions boiled and I fought to keep them from my face. This village was all I knew, and it was killing me a little each day. Sometimes I actually had a little understanding of why my mother took her life. Without her True Mate, what was for her here? Only me—and now I was slowly fading away from loneliness. I took a deep breath and tried to shove that feeling away. It didn’t work.

  When I entered my home, I was sorely tempted to curl in my bed and let grief take me. But I was going to resist. Instead, I made myself a sandwich of cheeses and fruits and put on the kettle for tea. As I ate and drank, I took a mental inventory of what I had collected the day before. Tomorrow I’d have a slow day sales-wise, so I’d focus on replenishing what I sold. When I finished my meal and cleaned up, I pulled out one of my mother’s old books and curled up on the couch to read. Her books had been my great-grandmother’s, and she had bought them when she had first entered Renth in order to be able to learn our written language. I didn’t know the name of her homeland, and I always wondered why she left. Had no part been free of war? I didn’t know about that. However, her books brought me on adventures set far away from my small village. I pondered how she could have been so strong to move here all alone. Could I ever make such a change?

  As I read, my eyes grew heavy, and I fell asleep on the couch. I dreamed of faraway places and eyes that were an infinite emerald. It was calming, and for once, I slept deeply, even though I had not done a healing.

  Chapter Two

  The loud commotion outside my door drew my attention. Curious, I dragged open the large, red, oak door to find two men bent low under the weight of a third larger man. His head dangled forward, midnight-black hair obscuring his face. Blood was smeared over the shredded remains of his shirt. Behind them, a crowd of people followed, murmuring to one another. The closer they got, the more my need to heal swept through me. I looked back at the man and realized he was still bleeding profusely. “Quick, bring him in.”

  Once they were inside, I directed them to the patients’ room. My eyes darted along his form as I opened his stained shirt and continued checking him over for wounds. There was a large gash across his chest and several stab wounds. “Who did this to him?”

  Lane, who had recently taken over the general store for his father, said in a gruff voice, “I don’t know, Zianya, we found him down by the river. He looks almost dead, but . . . well, we thought maybe…”

  “I can heal him,” I said confidently, the urge to sink my power into him becoming more difficult to resist. “Leave him here and I’ll take care of him. Tomorrow, after I’m sure he’s well enough, I’ll send for Kean and he can question him. Right now, he’s too weak for anything.”

  Lane's eyes slid over me with an expression that sent an unpleasant shiver down my spine. “I can stay, if you want.”

  Despite my revulsion, I smiled up at him, suppressing the tremor within me and plastering my face with a professional cool. He never made any secret of what he wanted from me. However, what he wanted was fleeting, a one-time thing, and I was not the type of woman who was willing to lay with a man without my heart in it. Besides, I had enough of a reputation in Vella—I didn’t need to add to it with reality. “I’m fine, Lane. Honestly, after a healing, I’m so exhausted. And his wound is deep. He’ll sleep soundly for a long time after.”

  Fortunately, Lane and his brother left after that. Chewing my bottom lip, it took me a moment to decide to do something I rarely did: I locked my doors. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Lane…no. I wasn’t going to fool myself. I didn’t trust Lane. Just the other day, I had overheard him talking with some of the other men and it had me worried. I wondered what he was truly capable of since his recent comments had set me on edge.

  Returning to my patient, my eyes roamed over him for a long moment, which was unusual for me to do. He was tall, taller than the men of the village were. I probably would have only come up to the middle of his chest. And he was well formed—muscular, with shoulders wider than I had ever seen. It was the body of a warrior, I realized. I’d never met one before. The few constables of our village rarely had anything to do, and they often had a paunch. Not like the flat planes of this man’s stomach. Biting my bottom lip, I felt a flutter of heat run through me. Shaking my head, I tried to clear it as shame burned through me. This wasn’t like me. This man was a patient. Softly stroking his midnight hair off his face, I tried to get a sense of all his wounds. Instead, I found myself realizing he was ruggedly handsome, which was something that I just never allowed myself to realize about my patients. I growled to myself, “Stop thinking like this.”

  I focused again. When I finally understood the extent of his injuries, I let my power seep into him. As I did, I found each wound and knit them together. When I was done, I took a deep, shuddery breath. Going to my work area, I grabbed some tea leaves that would strengthen him. I rocked back and forth, trying to stay awake as I brewed the tea. Once it cooled, I slowly let it trickle down his throat. When I was done, I collapsed onto the couch and fell into a deep sleep.

  As I awoke, before I opened my eyes, I realized I was swaying gently from side to side. I moaned as my eyes finally fluttered open and darted around. It was then that I noted I was on a horse riding deep in the mountains. It was late in the day, and the air was fresh. The next thing I noticed was an arm around my waist and a warm body at my back. I struggled to get free and off the horse.

  “Relax, lass. I’ll not harm you.” A slightly accented voice that was inviting and rich, like dark honey, spoke in my ear.

  “Who-who are you?” I asked, my heart racing wildly and my voice stuttering in fear.

  “I’m Torric.”

  I gathered my courage before I finally glanced up at him. The warrior that I had healed now seemed to be my captor. His eyes were like deep emeralds, and they gazed down at me with a tender smile that softened his striking features. I frowned, which just made his smile widen as amusement twinkled in his eyes. “Don’t worry, lass. You’re safe with me.”

  “Safe?” I cried in alarm. “You took me from my home! What do you want?”

  “Your services are needed. I can’t go back without you.”

  I blinked and fixed my eyes ahead, trying to find an excuse to be returned to my home. I said, “I’m useless without my herbs and potions and the like.”

  He laughed. “Look behind you to the right.”

  Sure enough, there was another horse loaded down with two large and intricately carved dark-stained wooden boxes, which appeared to be my grandmother’s. In fact, I knew they were because I’d recognize those flowers anywhere. I sighed and looked forward. A wave of dizziness came over me.

  “I need to eat,” I said softly.

  “You can eat when we stop for the night,” he replied absently.

  “No, I must eat now,” I wearily muttered.

  “Lass, you need to wait.”

  My stomach growled loudly and I trembled, feeling another wave of dizziness take me. I gasped, “You don’t understand. After a healing, I have two requirements: rest and food, in that order. Your healing was particularly difficult, and so I’ve slept a lot later than I normally do, and now that I’m awake, I must eat. Please.”

  He turned my face to study me, emerald eyes turning thoughtful. Then he smiled. “Very well. But if you try to run, lass, I
’ll catch you before you get home.”

  It hit me then that I would have to bide my time. If I were to flee, it would have to be when he did not expect it, not to mention when I was not weak with the need for sustenance. He slowed to a stop and dismounted, and then powerful arms picked me up as if I weighed nothing and set me on the ground. I’d never seen so many muscles on a man’s arm before. My knees went weak and I almost collapsed, but he swept me into his arms to steady me. Our eyes met, and something in that look caused a flow of heat to run through my veins and pool low in my belly. The intensity of his gaze filled me with a sense of yearning, and I wondered briefly how different things would have been if he hadn’t kidnapped me. Yet, that was the thing—he had.

  A wicked light gleamed in his eyes as he smiled, and I turned away. Softly, I said, “I need to sit.”

  Holding onto my arm, he guided me to an overturned log and sat me down. I waited while he reached into his saddlebag and brought me some bread and cheese. I tore into it hungrily. I could feel him watching me as I ate.

  Glancing up at him, I spoke in a low tone, “I’ll need more. After a healing as big as yours, I’ll need a lot more than this. I most definitely need meat.”

  He frowned. “Why is that?”

  I had never shared this with anyone and I wondered if I should with him. However, he needed to know. Obviously, since he had packed up my medicines, he needed me to be his healer. He said he would not harm me, and for reasons I didn’t understand, I trusted that to be true. The trouble was, people seemed to think I was a never-ending supply of healing power.

  Exhaling softly, I came to a decision. “When I heal, I give some of myself to my patient. There are limits to what I can do. If you had been any closer to death, I would not have been able to heal you for fear of my own death. Although it would have been extremely hard for me to ignore the need to heal you, I would have also felt a need not to touch you. I know that’s confusing, but that’s probably the best explanation. When I perform a healing, I need a lot of rest, and then I need to eat. A lot. If I don’t eat enough food, my body consumes itself, and I lose weight. If that happens too many times, I can die. Because of that, between healings, I consume a lot of food, which is why I’m not as thin as the village girls.”

  He grinned at me. “Lass, you’re small with the kind of curves a man wants on his woman. I’d not complain about that.”

  Rolling my eyes, I tore another chunk of bread off and chewed. As I ate the seed bread, I let my eyes roam the area. We had traveled far, with no landmarks I recognized; I was actually unsure of where we were. He must have left in the night and rode hard. Deep down, I wondered if anyone in Vella would miss me. I snorted. Probably only when they needed a healing, and no doubt they’d curse me for not being there.

  “I’m serious about needing more food.” I met his emerald eyes with a level gaze. He stared at me long and hard. Then he nodded and headed into the woods. “Where are you going?”

  He called back, “To look for small game.”

  Sitting there, I nibbled on some cheese and contemplated the idea of running while he was gone. The trouble was, I was lost. The other truth was, that I was too in need of meat to get very far. Torric had been on the borderline of my abilities. For now, I would stay with him. If we passed any villages, I’d take a horse in the night and go.

  After I finished what food he left me, I felt drowsy again. Closing my eyes, I let myself drift. I knew I should be afraid of what was to come, but I wasn’t. Torric may have elicited a reaction out of me, but it was not one of fear. Lane’s gaze may have caused my blood to run cold with the idea he’d take what wasn’t his—but not Torric. His emerald eyes danced with the promise of passion, but only if I wanted it.

  I would not want it, I told myself. Shaking my head, I reminded myself that he had taken me from my home.

  Some time during this inner debate, sleep took me. I awoke to the smell of meat and the crackling of the fire. Opening my eyes, I found Torric on the other side of the fire, a bird on a spit above it. His fiery gaze was on me, and my blood boiled. I closed my eyes again and doused that flame with the reminder that he stole me. Once again, I opened my eyes, and then I sat up and stretched.

  Even at this distance, I could tell his eyes were lazily perusing my body. “You shouldn’t have slept like that, lass. Anyone could have taken you.”

  I let out a short laugh. “Someone already did. You know, my powers have limits, and healing you took a lot out of me—as I said.”

  He grew thoughtful. “How limited?”

  I let my eyes fall to the cooking bird and carefully considered how much I would tell him. I needed to make sure he didn’t think he could use me as a healer on a battlefield. “One healing per day. And if the injuries are too grave, I have to wait several days to get back my strength. That’s why I fell asleep. Also, if I heal people too many days in a row, I’ll start to lose weight and grow weak, which can cause me to die. Fortunately, at home, I don’t usually have more than one healing every so often.”

  He frowned as he took in that information. Then he asked, “Why do you think of that place as home? Beautiful lass like you…and not one of those village boys has married you yet?”

  My cheeks ignited and indignation caused my voice to rise. “Why are you assuming I’m unmarried?”

  He frowned, his face twisting as if he didn’t like the idea that I was. He growled, “Are you?”

  I tilted my head and met his eyes with defiance as I retorted, “That’s my business.”

  He smiled knowingly, and a flash of irritation filled me. Smugly, he replied, “There were no signs of a husband in your home. Besides, on my way here, I encountered many people around here who took one look at my green eyes and they backed away in fear. I heard them speak of the red-haired witch of Vella, and they wondered why they tolerated her.”

  “I’m not a witch!”

  His laugh was vibrant and warm. Surprise coursed through me when it soothed me. “Aye, I know that, lass. They’re superstitious fools.”

  Smirking, I glanced away. “That, they are. They used to tease me and tell me that a demon was my real father. They think red protects them from evil, but I guess my hair is too much like the color of fire for them to accept that. You wouldn’t mind, my mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother all had red hair. My family has been healers in Vella for a long time. Since my great-grandmother came to the village. And yet, they still look at us as evil. They come in the back door for potions and teas and creams, and yet…”

  My roughening voice trailed off, and I fought the tears that were threatening to fall. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath to brace myself.

  Suddenly, a solid body was at my side and a warm arm went around my shoulders. Hauling me into his massive chest, Torric’s fingers wove through my hair in gentle caresses until I calmed. In spite of that calming, his embrace sparked a flip-flop in my heart.

  “Where I’m from, lass, flame-red hair is considered a blessing and a mark of beauty. Our healers all have such hair. Or they did.”

  “What do you mean did?”

  Turning to him, I found his eyes on me. They were soft pools of emerald that promised tenderness and shelter. He smiled sadly. “Great war ravages our lands. It’s what keeps your homes safe—we border between you and the darkness of the West. Once, there were many healers. Then, in the time of my great-grandfather, assassins from the West came with one purpose: to kill any who possessed the gift of healing. So they targeted those with red hair. Some of our healers scattered. I think you’re descended from one of them. What I hope is that you’ll help my king.”

  He scowled and focused his eyes on the dancing blaze of the campfire. His voice grew low and grave as the light of the flames competed with the light of the cloudy day on his face. “My king was poisoned, and he’s wasting away. Four warriors were sent East in hopes of finding a healer. On the road, nine bandits attacked me. Three shot me in the back with arrows before they descended. They took
all I had and left me for dead.”

  Bandits had been a problem for some time in our area. That was why I stuck to my own paths. As his words sunk in, my eyes slipped over to the sword on his back, the bow lying not far from me, the quiver of arrows beside it, and then back to him, questioningly. He grinned. “Before we left, I made a trip to your armory. Hopefully, no one will mind.”

  I laughed. My uncle would be furious. Then I almost cried. He’d be furious about the weapons, but not about me. I took in a shaky breath, and Torric once again crushed me against his chest. “There, there, lass. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

  “That’s not it. I was just thinking how the only time any of them will miss me is if they broke a leg or something.”

  He turned my face so my eyes met his and he grinned broadly. “Back at my home, you’ll be honored, revered. Never you worry, lass.”

  “So says my kidnapper.”

  He laughed heartily, releasing me to turn the spit. The fact that I suddenly missed his arm around me struck my heart. He paused and nodded. “This should be done.”

  Grabbing the spit, he brought the bird over to me. I wondered what it was briefly before I dug into it. It didn’t taste particularly good, but I was starving from the healing, so I consumed the dried out meat hastily. I had always found that meats helped me get my strength back better than any other foods. I was halfway done when I raised my eyes to him. Embarrassment flushed my cheeks, and I handed the spit to him. “I’m sorry. You must be hungry, too.”

  He laughed. “I’m fine, actually. I ate at your home before we left, as well as some of the seed bread I used to lure the bird close.”

  “So what did you take from my home?”

  “Besides all of your food? Every jar of yours that I could pack into those two wooden boxes. I made sure to grab some of everything since I wasn’t sure what you’d need. I would’ve tried to find your money, too, but time was running out. I did grab a book that looked important.”