Jelena rose from her chair and moved on silent feet to a small side door that exited into a secondary corridor. Before reaching for the handle, she glanced over her shoulder; no one seemed to have taken notice of her departure. She pulled on the handle and the door swung open on well-oiled hinges. She slipped through and hurried away.
Chapter 36
The Longest Night
"Tilo, there you are!” Brother Wambo scurried toward Magnes from across the sun-dappled courtyard, skinny arms waving. Magnes waited for the elderly healer to catch up before he continued on his way to his dispensary. “Fadili told me of what has befallen your slave friend. I am sorry,” Wambo offered in his thin, reedy voice.
Magnes nodded in thanks. “I was just on my way back to the de Guera yard to check on him.”
“You look terrible, Brother,” Wambo observed. “I daresay you could use a meal and a nap.”
Magnes grimaced as he pushed his fingers through his unkempt hair. “It’s been a rough night. When I left him this morning, my friend still lived, but that was several hours ago. I’m very worried. The worst of his wounds is quite deep. The knife pierced clear through the muscle layer and entered the body cavity.”
“Eeee…Not good!” Wambo shook his head in dismay. “Your friend will most likely die, I’m afraid. Such is the fate of most arena slaves.”
A momentary flash of irrational anger tightened Magnes’ chest.
Ashi will not die! I won’t let him! he wanted to scream, but instead, he reined in his emotions, then stopped in his tracks and regarded Wambo thoughtfully.
“Brother, do you remember discussing with me a plan to provide medical care to some of the outlying suburbs and villages around Darguinia?”
“Yes. You wanted to outfit a wagon as a traveling clinic. I thought it was a good idea; I still do. Anything we can do to combat the woeful levels of ignorance and superstition in the general populace is a good idea. Why do you ask?”
“I’ll talk to you about it later. Right now, I’ve got to get back to the de Guera yard.”
Wambo shrugged. “Eh, suit yourself, though I think you should eat something first. Good luck.” He shuffled off, sandals slapping against the hard-packed clay of the courtyard.
Magnes continued on his way to the dispensary, intending to pick up some supplies before heading out. The traveling clinic idea hadn’t been entirely his own. A suggestion by Fadili had planted the seed in his mind, and at first, the idea hadn’t involved anything nearly as elaborate as a specially outfitted wagon. But the more Magnes had mulled over the details, the more he had been convinced of the merits of a wagon, and he knew just the person to finance the venture: Mistress Armina de Guera.
For years, the mistress had suffered from headaches of such ferocious intensity, they had left her completely debilitated when they struck.
The first day Magnes had come to her yard, several months ago, Mistress de Guera had been in the throes of agony, laid low by her head pain. His honey-sweetened tea of skullcap, ginger, willow bark, and valerian root had eased the pain and gained him an extremely grateful patron. Magnes felt certain the lady’s ongoing gratitude would insure a swift affirmative to his request for money.
The irony of the whole plan lay in the fact that the very wagon the good lady financed would carry two of her slaves to freedom.
After packing a supply of fresh bandages and some packets of herbs he would need to treat Ashinji’s wounds, Magnes started out for the arena precincts. The late afternoon sun shone through shredded clouds, blown apart by stiff spring winds.
As Magnes walked, people called out to him.
“Ho there, Brother Tilo! My wife’s got another boil on her arse that needs lancing!”
“Brother, can ye come an’ look at m’ son’s sore tooth?”
“Brother Tilo, the rash is baaaack!!!”
Magnes waved and kept walking. So many residents of the neighborhood now came seeking their services that the local temple of Balnath-their archrival-had sent several of their bretheren to spy on the Eskleipans as they went about their work. To Magnes, the priests of Balnath were nothing but reprehensible charlatans. They traded on the superstition and fear of the common people, preferring to keep them ignorant of even the simplest things they could do to protect themselves from disease, such as hand washing.
When Magnes reached the gate of the de Guera yard, the guard waved him through without challenge. He went straight to the infirmary and found Gran still sitting in her chair by Ashinji’s bed.
“How is he?” he asked, advancing to the bed and dropping his satchel on the floor.
Gran heaved a weary sigh. “He’s still adrift. All I can do is continue to call to him.”
Magnes reached out and lifted one of Ashinji’s eyelids. He observed no response, not even the barest flicker of awareness. He picked up Ashinji’s wrist and felt for the pulse that beat there, slow, but steady.
That’s one good sign, at least.
“I need to check the wounds and change the dressings,” he said, replacing Ashinji’s hand on the blanket.
Gran nodded. “I’ll help you.”
“I’ll need a basin and some warm water.”
While Gran went to fetch the water, Magnes began his work. He peeled back the coverlets to expose Ashinji’s torso, swaddled in bandages. He pushed the unconscious man over onto his side in order to look at his back. A large brown stain discolored the linen, something he expected to see.
Doesn’t look too heavy, though, thank the gods.
He dug in his satchel, retrieved a small knife, then began to cut the bandages. Carefully, he peeled away the soiled linen and bloody padding until his handiwork lay revealed.
The long, shallow slash across Ashinji’s ribcage looked good. The neat black stitches stood out in stark contrast to the paleness of the patient’s skin. The deep stab wound in the back, however, appeared red and swollen. Magnes leaned in close and sniffed. He breathed a sigh of relief.
No odor of rot…another good sign.
Gran returned with the water. While she held Ashinji up on his side, Magnes removed the sticky drain and washed the wound with an infusion of mallow root-excellent for inflammation. Next, he packed in a fresh strip of linen, applied a poultice of honeysuckle and comfrey and, with Gran’s help, bound up Ashinji in a fresh wrapper of clean bandages. Together, they changed the covering on the mattress and resettled the patient under a pile of fresh blankets. Throughout the entire procedure, Ashinji remained completely unresponsive.
“Where is Seijon?” Magnes asked as he helped Gran clean up.
“I sent the boy to get a bite to eat. Poor little monkey. He’s sick with worry. Ashi means the world to him.”
“I think I’ve come up with a workable plan to smuggle Ashinji and Seijon out of the city.” Magnes kept his voice low, even though he and Gran were alone.
“Tell me,” Gran responded.
“It all hinges on Mistress de Guera. You know she looks kindly on me ever since I gave her a remedy for her sick headaches. I plan on asking her to fund a traveling clinic for the Eskleipans. The wagon will need to be custom made, of course. It’ll have two storage bins beneath the main bed, plus a secret compartment Ashinji and Seijon can hide inside. You and I will simply drive the wagon out of town.”
Gran’s lips tightened in a frown. “The authorities may search the wagon at the city limits,” she said. “Many transports get stopped and checked before they leave.”
“I hate to ask because I know it’s a touchy subject, but what about your Talent? Can’t you use your abilities to…to…I don’t know, somehow cloud the minds of anyone who might get suspicious?”
Gran sighed. “I swore many years ago never again to use my Talent to manipulate another intelligent being. My own terrible arrogance and belief that I had the right to control others led to…well, to the destruction of everything I held dear.”
“This is an entirely different situation,” Magnes pointed out. “You’d be using yo
ur Talent in the service of good. I don’t pretend to understand all of it-evil spirits, a key, the end of the world-it’s all very confusing, but you’ve said so yourself…Ashinji has a vital role to play in this. Seems to me that none of us has much of a choice anymore.”
“You are right, my friend,” Gran murmured. She squeezed her eyes shut as if afflicted with a sudden, intense pain. “Ai!” she moaned. “Even after so many years…the wounds are still fresh!” She buried her head in her hands, thin shoulders shaking with sobs. Magnes could only stand helplessly by, unsure if she would recoil at his touch or welcome it. Tentatively, he reached out and laid a hand on her arm. Her skin felt smooth and soft, like that of a much younger woman. She did not shrink away, but neither did she indicate she wished for any more contact. Magnes contented himself with trying to emote as much comfort and sympathy as he could.
At last, Gran wiped her eyes. “Most times, I can cope, but every so often… Thank you, Tilo-or is it Magnes now?”
“Best I remain Tilo for the time being…At least until we’re out of Darguinia.”
Gran nodded. “You must be ready for a little refreshment,” she said. “I know I am. I’ll go and see what I can find for us in the kitchen.”
Magnes murmured his thanks as Gran left the infirmary. He stood for a few heartbeats, stroking his chin, and wondered if he would ever know the dark secrets that Gran kept locked away in the hidden storerooms of her soul.
Perhaps it’s best I never find out. Gran and I are alike; both of us have painful secrets that weigh us down. I wonder…Is the blood of family on your hands, too, Chiana?
~~~
Magnes remained for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, offering his services to any of the yard’s residents, both slave and free, who needed them. Gran and Seijon kept a constant vigil at Ashinji’s bedside, leaving only to tend their own bodily needs. Fadili showed up at sunset, stating his intention to remain and help for as long as Magnes needed him.
Just after moonrise, Ashinji grew restless and began to thrash and mutter. The fires of fever could be useful in small doses, but if left to rage unchecked for too long, they would consume the patient from within. Magnes, well aware of this, knew what he must do. The next few hours would prove crucial.
At Magnes’ direction, a pair of slaves brought a tub into the infirmary and filled it with cold water. With Fadili’s help, he first removed the bandages, then transferred Ashinji-still in the grip of delirium-to the tub and held him down while he struggled and raved. Gran positioned herself at his head and laid her hands on his temples.
“Quiet… quiet now, dear one,” she whispered, and after a few moments, Ashinji’s struggles subsided into sporadic twitches of arms and legs, though his eyes continued to jerk restlessly beneath closed lids.
Magnes watched and waited, and when he judged the patient had soaked long enough, he and Fadili lifted Ashinji out of the tub and held him up while Gran carefully blotted him dry. Together, they carried him back to the bed.
As Magnes redressed his wounds, Ashinji startled them all by abruptly sitting up. His eyes, round and glassy, focused straight ahead at an image only he could see. “Jelena!” he cried out in a voice made hoarse by illness. He then whispered a few words in Siri-dar and fell silent. A single tear rolled down his cheek.
“Ashi, can you hear me?” Magnes asked, but he got no response. Ashinji’s consciousness clearly wandered in other realms. After a few more moments of wide-eyed silence, he slumped back on the bed.
“Jelena…That’s Ashi’s wife’s name, right?” Seijon asked. The boy looked at Gran.
“Yes, it is,” she replied, and Magnes immediately picked up on the troubled tone in her voice.
“Is there something wrong, Gran?” he asked.
“There is much that is wrong, but I’m in no position to do anything about it at the moment,” she answered. “Right now, I must concentrate all of my energies on helping you keep Ashi alive.”
By the time Magnes finished with the dressings, shivers wracked Ashinji’s body. Gran piled on more blankets and they all settled in to wait.
The night crawled toward dawn. The moon, just past full, had slipped below the horizon when Ashinji once again grew restless with fever. Magnes and Fadili returned him to the tub for another cold soak.
“If the fever doesn’t break soon, he won’t survive,” Fadili observed grimly. Magnes knew the truth of Fadili’s words, but he still couldn’t bring himself to voice his agreement.
Ashi is my friend…I’ll be damned if I give up now!
Shortly before sunrise, Magnes roused himself and went to check on the patient. He sighed with relief.
The fever’s broken, thank the gods.
He grabbed a cloth and wiped the sweat from Ashinji’s forehead, then laid his hand against the skin, now cool to the touch. He lifted an eyelid and nodded in satisfaction. Ashinji had drifted out of delirium and into normal sleep.
The crisis is past…Now, it’s just a matter of time.
“That was close,” Magnes muttered. “Too close.”
“Ai, that it was,” Gran replied. She stirred in her chair, waking Seijon, who had fallen asleep while sitting on the floor beside her, his head cradled in her lap.
“Ashi!” the boy cried, scrambling over to the side of the bed.
“Quiet, monkey!” Gran scolded. “You’ll wake him and Ashi needs his rest!” She softened the reprimand with a gentle pat on the boy’s head. Seijon scrubbed at his tear-streaked face, gazing at Ashinji with love and relief in his eyes.
Fadili tried to hide an enormous yawn behind his hand. Magnes felt a pang of guilt. The young Eskleipan apprentice had been of tremendous help, giving his time and energy freely and without complaint.
Magnes rested his hands on the younger man’s shoulders. “I can’t thank you enough, Fadili. I know you didn’t have to stay here all night, but I’m grateful you did. It made things so much easier.”
Fadili shrugged and his generous mouth stretched in a tired grin. “You don’t have to thank me, Tilo. We are brothers. This elf is also your brother, which makes him mine as well.”
One last thing needed to be done before Magnes could return to the temple for a few hours of sleep. From the supplies in his satchel, he made up a mixture of willow bark, feverfew, and goldenseal.
“Brew this up as a strong tea and make Ashi drink it as soon as he wakes. He’ll hate the taste, I’m sure, so put a lot of honey in it,” he instructed, handing the packet over to Gran, who tucked it away within the folds of her skirt.
She nodded. “When will you return?”
Magnes raked a hand through his curls and scratched the stubble of beard sprouting on his chin and cheeks.
“This evening.”
Chapter 37
The Whirlwind
"Concentrate, Jelena. Feel the dormant energy within the wick, take control of it…That’s it. Now, kindle the flame.”
“I’m trying, Sonoe, but I don’t think it’s working! Wait… I… yes !”
The little beeswax taper flared to life. Jelena gasped with delight.
“You did it, Jelena! Excellent! You see? I told you that you could.” Sonoe laughed at Jelena’s bemused expression. “You always underestimate your Talent, Jelena. You should never do that. Remember who and what you are. You’re an Onjara, and believe me, you’ve got the Onjara ability. You mustn’t be afraid to use it.”
Jelena nodded in agreement. “I hear what you’re saying, Sonoe, and I know you’re right. It’s just, well…until I came to Alasiri, I was a nobody…no, even worse, I was a despised nobody. It’s been a long, hard struggle to let go of all that and to see myself as worthwhile. Ashinji helped me the most, but so has my father…and you, of course.”
The windows of Sonoe’s private sitting room were thrown open to admit the soft spring breezes that wafted up from the gardens below, bringing with them the sweet perfume of the season’s first blooms. Sonoe and Jelena sat side by side on a silk upholstered
couch, their bodies touching in the easy way of close friends. From across the room, gleeful giggles bounced through the air. Eikko and Sonoe’s maid Chiba had charge of Hatora, and the two hikui girls happily passed the cooing baby from one pair of arms to the other. Sonoe’s little dog Jewel spun and leapt around the girls in a frenzy of excitement.
Such peace, Sonoe thought. Pity it all has to end.
Her hand strayed to her bodice and pressed the black stone pendant secreted between her breasts.
Tonight, everything would change.
Sonoe reached out and laid a hand on Jelena’s cheek. Despite all her efforts, she had failed to quash the genuine affection she felt for this girl.
It will make her death so much harder to witness. If only a way could be found to spare her…
Sonoe sighed.
Such thoughts are counterproductive . Jelena’s fate was sealed long ago, and there’s nothing anyone can do to change it.
“Kindling a candle flame seems like such a little thing, though,” Jelena said. She reached out and snuffed the candle between her thumb and forefinger. “It’s a far cry from the powerful magic you and the other Kirians wield. I feel like a mouse beside an oliphant sometimes.”
Sonoe laughed. “Have you even seen an oliphant?”
“I’ve seen pictures…in books about the faraway south, out beyond the deserts,” Jelena replied. “There are leagues and leagues of forests so dense, the sun never reaches the ground. The humans who live there, the Eenui, are small and very, very dark-skinned. They ride oliphants, or so the books say. Mai Nohe’s father, Master Kurume, traveled to the Eenui lands, when he was a young man. It took him nearly a year to get there.”
“Tell me about Mai,” Sonoe prompted.
Jelena’s eyes swiveled downward and a stain of color crept into her cheeks. “There’s nothing to tell, really,” she murmured.
“If that’s so, then why are you blushing, pet?” Sonoe pressed, grinning. “You can’t hide the truth from me, dear heart. You know better. I think the handsome young swordmaster has turned your head!”
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