Visions of Power

by Jeffrey Quyle

  Alec looked back at the beach as they rode away, and saw the lieutenant benignly watching his crew on shore.

  They rode at a quick pace, less than an all-out gallop, but the miles flowed away beneath them. After three hours they halted to switch horses, and then took off again. They traveled on the recently built road, passing several homesteads.

  “You’ve made quick progress in building this road,” Alec observed.

  “We had many laborers work for us, so we worked on long stretches simultaneously, then let the ingenairii finish the work,” Johan explained. “We’ve lost quite a few workers since then, so we’re slowing down. We actually only started on the road after we’d marched for several days away from the city, so this is some of the first portion we did.”

  “The officers wanted to get the riff-raff as far from the city as fast as possible before we started working. I think they expect we’ll build more road back on the return trip.”

  As they traveled on, the homes became noticeably less common, but still they continued on.

  “Folks out here were pretty surprised to see a force of soldiers show up out of the blue, I’ll tell you,” Johan shared with Alec. “A lot of them moved here to be away from folks, and I don’t think they were real pleased to see us. But when 800 soldiers showed up, there wasn’t much they could do, was there?”

  Two hours later the camp became evident on the horizon, and a few minutes later they rode past pickets and into the base.

  Chapter 25 – The Challenge of Healing Lewis

  In front of a large tent they pulled up and dismounted. Alec felt noticeably sore in his legs, and groaned as he slid to the ground.

  “Go right in young healer,” Sergeant Jonah told him. “We’ll take care of the horses.”

  “Thank you for bringing me,” Alec waved and entered the tent.

  “Are you the healer from Goldenfields?” a man in army uniform asked.

  Alec nodded.

  “I’m the medic for the expedition. Raffelles in my name,” the man said, extending his hand to Alec. “Captain Lewis is behind the sheet here. I have to tell you honestly that I’m sorry I didn’t more clearly explain how bad his condition is, so that you wouldn’t have wasted the trip here. I’m surprised he’s still alive. His injury is far beyond anything we can heal,” Raffelles said as he pulled the sheet aside.

  Alec entered alone and sat down by the pale form of Lewis. He had a recollection of Lewis and Inga verbally jousting as the captain had pushed his injured wife in a wheelchair out of the infirmary after her injuries. How will I tell her if I fail, he asked himself. He refocused, and used his health vision to look closely at the captain. There were no evident injuries below his neck, but the back of his head was severely injured, with a cracked skull and damage to the brain evident.

  Alec sat back and blew out his breath. His mind was racing, considering how little could be done to heal the man. No clear answers came to him. He paused, took one of Lewis’s hands in both of his and prayed for the captain, and for help for himself.

  Alec opened his supply bag and emptied it of everything he had brought, setting it all on a bench against the tent wall. He began mixing some herbs and elements to create a soup to sustain the captain’s weakening body, and served that to him, dribbling drops into his slack mouth one by one. Having done at least one positive thing, Alec paced back and forth as he tried to imagine some means of treating Lewis’s badly injured head. The wounds were horrific, and he felt a headache begin to pound inside his own brain. Resigned to failure, Alec stopped pacing and slumped down on the bench in despair.

  As he sat back to think, he felt a strange sensation, beginning on his scalp and penetrating into his head, followed by the sound of a small explosion. He stepped out of Lewis’s section to ask what caused the noise, but Raffelles was gone, so he stuck his head out of the tent.

  Seeing a sentry at the opening he asked, “What was that noise, that explosion?” he asked.

  “Are you the new doctor they brought in for the Guard Captain?” the sentry responded.

  “Yes, I just got here, and heard an explosion a moment ago.”

  “That was the work of the fire magician, working on the road up the way from the camp,” the sentry replied. “On a busy day he’ll fire off four or five sections of road, but usually he only carries out two or three. That’s his first of the day, I think.”

  Alec thanked the man for the information and went back inside beside Lewis. An idea, an implanted memory of an ancient practice, was percolating through his mind, spurred by the ingenaire works nearby. He looked closely at Lewis’s brain with his health vision, examining the structures that were harmed and those that were not.

  He stopped and considered what he could do. There was a means of treatment he hadn’t considered before. But it was extremely complex, far beyond anything known in the Dominion in the current age, and depended on cooperation from others to participate in something they had probably never considered doing before. Alec didn’t know how he could make it possible.

  “Where is Major Abraham?” Alec asked the sentry again.

  “His tent is about 100 yards that way. It has a pennant flying in front, and two sentries outside, sir,” he said.

  Alec walked quickly in that direction, and found the tent. “Is Major Abraham available?” he asked the sentry.

  “Just a moment,” the sentry said, and his companion ducked inside. A second later a staff officer appeared.

  “You wished to see the Major?” the aide asked. “May I ask who you are?” he further inquired, surprised to not recognize someone in the camp.

  “I am the healer sent to take care of Guard Captain Lewis. Major Abraham knows me, I believe,” Alec replied.

  “Just a moment. Let me check inside,” the aide said and ducked back into the tent.

  A moment later the Major himself came out and shook Alec’s hand. “Good to see you young fellow. You made awfully good time to get here. I recollect Captain Lewis was a friend of yours, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes sir,” Alec replied. “May we talk about his treatment?”

  “Come inside and fire away,” the major led Alec into the tent and offered him a cup of water. Alec realized he hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since his dawn breakfast on the river cruiser and gratefully accepted the drink.

  “I think there is a way to treat Lewis,” Alec said. “It’s not anything I’ve ever done before, but it seems possible, and it’s the only thing I can even imagine trying.” He explained what he needed.

  “I can’t imagine any way to save that man after that blow to the head. People heard his skull crack thirty paces away,” Abraham said. “And what you’re asking will mean I’ll have to stop the road work for the day. Not to mention the ruckus I imagine it will raise.

  “But I’ll do what you ask. If you could save the Duke from an incurable poison, I’ll give you this chance to save your friend. I’ll have everyone sent to the tent in two hours time. Will that work out?”

  Alec agreed that would work fine, and thanked the Major. He walked out past the aide and the sentries and went back to the hospital tent. Once he returned to the medic’s tent, Alec looked at Lewis and considered what to do. He could get much of the preparatory work done in advance of the arrival of the other participants, he decided, and started working as quickly as possible.

  He mixed three bowls of preparations, and then considered his next big step. Kneeling beside Lewis, he took his hand. “Inga will forever make some joke about you having an extra hole in your head if we pull this off,” he softly told the unconscious officer, gently stroking long hair off his forehead.

  “He is not only a patient but a friend?” a voice asked.

  Without turning, Alec replied. “Yes, he has been a friend and is now a patient. And his wife has been a patient, and is now a friend. I cannot bear the thought that he may die in my care, but I know he will die if I do not try to give him care,” he ended in a whisper, feeling tears starting
to well up unexpectedly. Alec turned and saw that the newcomer was a short man with blond hair, one of the people he had requested, the chaplain.

  “I could use your help now in turning him over,” Alec said.

  The priest knelt beside him and together they carefully rolled Lewis so that he was lying on his stomach, the heavily bandaged back of his head showing. Alec sat next to the priest and carefully went over everything he was going to attempt to do, and how the priest would help.

  “When I ask you to pray, you truly must do so with all you heart and all your soul. I want you to hold his head while you pray, not only so that your spiritual strength is shared with him, but to keep his head upright while I operate,” Alec summarized. “It will be very gory, and I hope you have the stomach to watch what happens, and to keep his head steady no matter what.”

  “I am a chaplain in the army, and have seen many things in this expedition already. Gore will not bother me,” the priest assured Alec, remembering the many funerals he had presided over on this trip, and wondering whether such a young person had any business practicing medicine, let alone warning others about preparing to see gore. Still, he reflected, the commander had ordered him to report here and answer to this young healer, so there was some credibility to whatever was about to happen. And he felt a preternatural calm in his soul, telling him to watch and accept whatever was about to happen to the injured Guard officer.

  “Very well,” he heard Alec say. “In anticipation of the others arriving soon, I am going to start the surgery to open up this back portion of his skull. For the first portion it will only be you and I, but we will be joined by the others fairly soon. Are you ready?” Alec asked, unsure whether he was ready himself.

  Alec used scissors to cut the bandages away from Lewis’s head, revealing the lacerations and wounds they were about to treat, some showing signs of infection. After placing the scissors and the bloody bandages on the ground beside him, he selected his sharpest blade and cut a flap of the scalp, so that he could peel it down away from the injury. Across the exposed flesh he liberally scattered some of the herb mix from one bowl to stop blood from streaming in, and to prevent any further infection.

  A clear look at the skull revealed three separate fractures, and a concentrated area of brain damage. Carefully, Alec raised his drill and placed it against the skull at the first key point. “Are you ready for this?” he asked looking at the priest. Their eyes met and the priest nodded, his voice barely audible mumbling his prayer.

  Alec began to drill slowly, the bit of his instrument grating against the hard skull. He slowly adjusted and used the tool, seeking to reach the opposite side of the bone without penetrating the delicate, damaged brain beneath. He used his health vision periodically, checking to make sure than no harm was occurring in his patient.

  With one hole successfully drilled, Alec paused to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

  “Why don’t you just murder him quickly instead of this mutilation?” a new voice in the tent asked in a harsh tone.

  Alec looked to see three ingenairii now standing behind him. “He will live only if I can do this successfully, and that will only happen if you three will lend me your powers,” he said, laying his drill aside for a moment.

  “This man is already dead,” the middle ingenaire said. He was the oldest of the three there, appearing to be around thirty years of age, at least five years older than his companions.

  “Are you the fire ingenaire?” Alec asked, guessing at the meaning of the red band around his arms.

  “I am. But who are you, child, why does the major put us under your command, and why did you bring us here to witness your desecration of this misfortunate soldier’s body?” the harsh voice replied.

  “I am a healer. Unlike others, I believe we can save this man’s life, but I will need each of you to help me heal the damaged portions of his brain by channeling a minute stream of your power through me and my instruments when I ask you to. If we do nothing this man will die. If we do this, he may live,” Alec replied, shifting his eyes from one to the other of the three to gauge their reaction.

  “We cannot channel power through someone else. You will die,” the blue-banded ingenaire, who Alec assumed was the water ingenaire, responded.

  “I will not. But even if I do, that is my responsibility,” Alec told her, relying on the ancient knowledge that lay within his memories.

  “What I need is to finish opening his skull in these two locations. I am then going to thread these metal probes into the regions where the injuries have occurred. At that point, I will ask different combinations of you to lay your hands on my arm, and channel the power we need through me to heal the brain. We will then heal the skull, and your part will be done.

  “Merle felt that you three were skilled enough to serve this company on this campaign. I do not want to tell him that you failed to act as I needed in this instance.” Alec steeled himself to continue the uncomfortable conflict, knowing there was no choice if Lewis was to live.

  The three looked at one another. “I do not believe that you mean any harm, but I do not know how you believe this will work,” the gray-banded ingenaire, presumably the stone ingenaire, said. “Our powers are not related to healing. They’ve never been used in any way like this. Furthermore, no ingenaire’s power can pass through a non-ingenaire, and rarely through a fellow ingenaire. Your ideas, whatever they are, make no sense.”

  “There are ways to do this. Your powers can be used to strengthen, renew, heal, if you will use them properly. I will guide their use, if you will lend them. Major Abraham and I discussed this. He ordered you here to do this, did he not? Now, let me finish drilling and we will proceed. Don’t dismiss this out of hand,” Alec entreated, and picked up his drill again.

  “I will not be a party to this,” the gray-band declared.

  “Then go get Major Abraham and bring him back here and let him hear you say you will not cooperate with me,” Alec said, growing upset. “Go! Go now. That’s an order,” his voice grew louder as the ingenaire stood and stared at him. Alec then turned his back on the reluctant group and set to work drilling the next opening in Lewis’s skull.

  He quickly penetrated the outer layer of bone, then slowed and stopped, just as with the first hole, without inflicting damage. He concentrated completely on his actions, oblivious to what was happening around him.

  He felt the drill reach its goal and he stopped, letting out a loud breath. He turned around, to find all three ingenairii still there, now joined by Major Abraham, his aide, and two guards. All looked queasy, and as he watched, one guard slowly collapsed.

  “Lie him out on the floor and give him room to breathe,” Alec said without thinking.

  “Major, do you think I’ll have any problems with this operation?” Alec asked an oblique question.

  “You’ll have no problems, I’m sure of that,” Abraham said.

  “All right then. I want the water and fire ingenairii to place their hands on my left arm. When I say ‘now’ start trickling the smallest amount of power you can into my arm. It will only be for a few seconds. We’ll do it seven times. When that’s over, then we’ll repair the skull, and I’ll need the water and stone ingenairii to do that. Once that’s done, I’ll stitch up his scalp, and we’ll just let time take its course.”

  “You are going to die,” the fire ingenaire said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  Alec ignored him. “If you’re ready, please start your prayer again,” he directed the priest.

  The two ingenairii reluctantly came forward and dutifully placed their hands on his arm. Alec picked up the metal probe. He focused every iota of concentration he had on his health vision, fleetingly remembering Inga’s admonition about concentration.

  He placed the needle-fine probe against the surface of the brain and began to slowly slip it between the fibers of flesh, following a path to a point where he saw damage.

  “Now,” he gently said to the man and the woman with faces practicall
y next to his. The priest changed his chant to a different one as earlier instructed by Alec.

  He felt the ingenaire power enter his arm. It felt like a stream of vital new blood mixing with his own as it traveled. The skin of his arm prickled, and his flesh grew warm as the sensation of the energy coursed through him.

  “That’s too much, cut it back,” he urged them quickly. He instinctively used his own body to absorb the dangerous excess levels of power while beginning to direct what he needed down the instrument into Lewis’s injury. As they coursed through his own flesh he twisted and kneaded the two streams of power into the blend he needed to repair and stimulate the injured brain. Sensing revitalization taking place, he slowly pulled the instrument out through the injured area.

  “Stop,” he ordered as the point came back to healthy tissue. His vision showed him dark portions of damaged brain starting to glow with restored health. The priest resumed his original healing song.

  “That went well. Now please, keep the power down,” he urged the two ingenairii while starting to reinsert the probe to finesse his way to the next injury.

  “You cannot have survived that!” the fire ingenaire exclaimed. “I felt you take my power and manipulate it somehow.”

  Alec concentrated on the probe. It slowly advanced to where he needed it. “Now,” he directed them again, aware once more of the priest chanting his prayer. Alec again took the power, again absorbed the excess, and then manipulated what he needed and bathed it around the injured flesh of Lewis’s brain. He felt beads of sweat popping out on his forehead from the agonizing effort of trying to control the powers, as he blended the water power and the elemental fiery power together to rebuild and reconnect the damaged pieces of Lewis’s cerebellum so that thought and emotion could once again originate and flow unimpeded.

  Five more times Alec performed his surgery to restore function to portions of the damaged brain. Finally, he felt satisfied that he had accomplished what he needed. His shirt was soaked with sweat and clung to his body after the ordeal.