Artesans of Albia

by Cas Peace

  Robin agreed. Sullyan shifted restlessly, impatient with their concern.

  “I have no choice, Timar,” she rasped, her urgency plain. “I cannot wait, much as I might wish to. I am too weak now to fight the poison. There is only one part of me left, one tiny, intimate part, still free of infection. If I do not attempt the purging now, if I leave it and try to grow stronger, I fear that this final part will be overwhelmed. If that happens, then I am truly damned. I have no strength to protect myself, and if I slept, not even you could guard that precious portion of my soul. But if you and Robin lend me strength, and Deshan guides me, I can use Rykan’s power to cleanse as much of the poison as I can. The mystery of his missing strength will have to wait. Let us make an end, Timar. Please, I beg of you. I need to do this now.”

  Despite the warning in Deshan’s eyes, and the terror of losing her in Robin’s, Pharikian could not refuse. He nodded, and she sighed in relief.

  The four of them linked psyches, with Pharikian as the driving force, sparing Sullyan any expenditure of power save what she needed for the cleansing. Deshan stood ready to help direct the flow of metaforce to where it would do most good. The Hierarch effortlessly drew Robin’s offered strength into his control, and the Captain sensed his surprise at the younger man’s potential capacity. He pushed away a brief flash of pride and gave himself fully to Sullyan’s needs.

  Gathering herself with an effort, Sullyan began the process. It was slow and painful, as the poison had to be physically burned out of her. Had it not been for Pharikian’s skill and the support of both his and Robin’s powerful life force, she could not have survived. Deshan showed her the vital areas, guiding her to the places that had to be cleansed if she were to live. For Robin, seeing each terrible black mass of poison wither and die before the onslaught of Rykan’s power was immensely gratifying. Through their link, he felt Sullyan welcome even the sharp pain of it, for it was a cleansing pain, a healing pain, and what remained, although empty and raw, would eventually refill with her personal essence.

  After a very long time, during which Pharikian had to bring her back from the brink of unconsciousness more than once and the sound of her agonized gasps caused Robin to break down in tears, Rykan’s power finally gave out. The poison was burned away, the fibers of Sullyan’s being cauterized, leaving her naked and hurting inside. The infection’s inexorable creep had ceased, and her soul no longer felt the weight of imminent death. Only a small area of contamination remained, rooted in the deepest, most inaccessible regions of her soul. It was so strongly bonded to her essence that it would likely prove fatal to remove it, even with the full complement of Rykan’s power. And that, as Robin knew, she did not have.

  Physically and mentally drained, Robin and the two Andaryans held on to each other for support. Robin stared down at the fragile figure in the bed, oblivious now, sunk so far down after her last super human effort that even Pharikian was forced to let go. Wonderingly, he shook his head, unable to believe that so frail a frame had contained such vast, determined energies.

  Her expression was serene, even though her face still bore traces of tears. Her last cry reverberated in Robin’s ears. He had felt her triumph at beating Rykan’s brutal legacy, much more intense even than her satisfaction at striking off his head. She might not be completely clean of him, but at least she was no longer in immediate danger of death.

  All three men were shaking with exhaustion, but full of quiet admiration for what they had achieved. Pharikian passed a hand across his brow. “Oh, her father would have been so proud of her. If only he could have found the will to live. She would have been his strength, and what an invincible team they would have made.”

  Deshan gave a harsh laugh. “You wouldn’t have stood a chance, Timar. No one would.”

  Robin saw Pharikian’s wry answering smile as if through fog. Suddenly, his legs refused to hold him upright and he collapsed. Barely catching him, Pharikian eased him down onto the bed. Robin shuddered violently, and the Hierarch sat beside him, holding him while great, wracking sobs forced their way through his throat. It took some time, but eventually he grew calm.

  The Hierarch gazed at him kindly. “Well done, son. You’ve been through a lot today, more than most considering how deeply you love her. You have helped her win her life back, at least for the time being, and you deserve your rest. No,” he said, holding up a hand when Robin tried to protest, “you’ve done more than enough. There are others quite capable of taking care of things now. Get yourself into that bed and sleep.” Grinning at Robin’s expression, he added, “It’s no use arguing with me, boy. You’re not Master yet, and I could render you senseless with a thought, if I chose.”

  Robin smiled weakly, finally feeling at ease with this most powerful man. “I don’t believe you, sir. I don’t believe you have the strength to snuff a candle right now.”

  The Hierarch chuckled. “Enough of your insolence! But even if you’re right, Deshan here makes a mean sleeping draft. Now, bed.”

  Wisely, Robin chose not to argue. He needed neither sleeping draft nor Pharikian’s assistance to fall almost instantly into a deep, healing sleep.

  Chapter Two

  Slowly and gently, savoring every moment, Sullyan returned to wakefulness, feeling very nearly clean again and so thankful to be alive. Eyes still closed, she indulged in the luxury of spreading her senses throughout her body, delighting in the purity of places so recently occupied by infection. Yes, she hurt, felt ragged and empty, but her natural essence would reassert itself once the hurt had healed.

  Instinctively, she avoided the one area of her soul where infection lingered, not wishing to be reminded that, despite her triumph, Rykan’s legacy still meant that she couldn’t cross the Veils, couldn’t return home. She remained trapped in Andaryon, in an alien environment, and from this she would still die too early. She did not want to think of that. For now, she would just glory in being herself.

  Too languid to open her eyes, she shifted her senses outward, exploring her other hurts. Every muscle ached, every tendon protested after her exhausting fight with Rykan. This was a small price to pay for victory, and one she was used to. The long slash in her side was troublesome. The stitches would pull, she knew, so she spent a few minutes in healing. She was a little surprised to find that the wound was already half-healed, and guessed Deshan must have helped it along.

  Then she steeled herself to examine her wrist and hand, fearing to probe too deeply in case the damage was beyond repair. She could see where Deshan had worked on the small, shattered bones, bonding them together so no splinters remained. The wrist was swollen and extremely painful, but she could see that, given time, the bones would knit and the wrist would work again, possibly as well as before. She expended a little energy to reinforce Deshan’s work, and the fierce pain subsided to a dull throb.

  Her hand was another matter. The inner surfaces of the palm and fingers had escaped with minor burns, for she had reflexively balled her fist when Rykan trapped her in the fire. The back of her hand, though, had burned to the bone, and was a sorry mess. Although clear of infection, the area was raw and weeping and would take days, if not weeks, of Artesan healing before it was useable. It would never be the same. But then, she reflected, she wasn’t the same since Rykan’s abuse, so she could accept that. She did what she could for the moment to speed healing, then allowed her senses to roam the familiar room.

  She had yet to open her eyes or move, so the person she could sense sitting beside her bed had no idea she was awake. Sullyan smiled to herself before opening her eyes, and had to swallow round a dry throat to speak.

  “Rienne?”

  The healer was lost in a reverie of some kind. Sullyan’s voice, soft though it was, startled her. “Brynne!” she exclaimed, raising clouded eyes. “Oh, it’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

  A tiny frown creased Sullyan’s brows. There was deep unhappiness in her healer friend. She studied Rienne’s face, seeing the anxious eyes, the ca
pable hands clutched in her lap. Rienne was pale, there were dark rings under her eyes, and her long, dark hair had not been braided with the usual neatness, but then she had spent days out in the cold, with minimal rations and worry to contend with. It was not so surprising.

  “Apart from the obvious, I am well. I am very pleased to see you, too.”

  Rienne unconsciously twisted her hands. “I hope you’re not still angry with us. Bull told us what you said to him, but we just had to come. We were all so worried about you and we couldn’t just sit around doing nothing while you risked your life against Rykan.”

  Sullyan watched her carefully. She could sense quite clearly that Rienne was attempting to hide something. “I am not angry with you, Rienne, not now. But you took a huge risk in coming here, and Bulldog went against my express command in bringing you. He should have known better, and he knows what to expect for disobedience. Where is he, by the way? And Robin?”

  The high color that flushed Rienne’s face and the way she cast down her eyes told Sullyan something was very wrong. “What is it, Rienne?”

  The healer turned her head away, hands still twisting nervously.

  “Rienne!” snapped Sullyan, fear making her sharp. The healer’s head jerked back and Sullyan saw tears glittering in her eyes.

  “The Hierarch made me promise not to tell you,” she said, “not before he had seen you. But I knew I couldn’t keep it from you. I told him you would sense it.”

  “Sense what? Tell me before I grow angry. What has happened?”

  “It’s Cal and Taran. They’ve disappeared. It happened while we were watching you fight Rykan. They were standing right next to us—well, almost—but Bull and I were so intent on you, we didn’t see a thing. Bull couldn’t even sense them, and there was nothing more we could do. Even the horses were gone. Bull and I came here, and he told Robin about it, and the two of them went looking for Cal and Taran and … and now Bull and Robin have vanished as well!”

  Sullyan stared at Rienne in silence for a moment, then said darkly, “Give me the details.”

  Gathering herself with an effort, Rienne told Sullyan exactly what had happened on the hill. “After that,” she said, “we gathered our things and began walking toward the Citadel. We didn’t try to hide. It was getting dark and we wanted to be found by the Hierarch’s men as quickly as possible. So we made for the high road and eventually ran into one of the patrols overseeing the dispersal of Rykan’s forces. They were very suspicious at first, but our lack of weapons and horses and Bulldog’s obvious knowledge of you and Robin convinced them. They escorted us into the Citadel where we were eventually summoned before the Hierarch.

  “As soon as he heard the news, he sent for Robin. He told us Robin was exhausted after helping you burn out Rykan’s poison, and when we saw him we felt terrible. He looked so drawn and tired. He was very glad to see us, but when Bull told him what had happened to Cal and Taran, he was all for leaving right away. He got quite angry, but the Hierarch made him wait until we had washed and eaten something. I think he was worried that Robin’s exhaustion would affect his reasoning. He made sure Robin ate something too, and then he had Bull tell the story again. Afterward, he and Robin did a search for Cal and Taran, but they came to the same conclusion as Bull, that spellsilver was involved or … worse.”

  She took a shaky breath. “After that there was no stopping Robin. The only concession he made to the Hierarch was to take some extra men with him, but he and Bull left that same evening. Bull did come and see you first, but you were still asleep. Robin promised to report to the Lord General, Anjer, is it?” Sullyan nodded, her eyes distant. “But no one had heard anything from them by the middle of the next morning. That’s when Pharikian discovered that he couldn’t contact Bull or Robin either. And now … oh, gods, Brynne, I’m so frightened for them!”

  Sullyan was about to murmur soothing words when something Rienne had said made her frown. Cold fear gripped her stomach. “Rienne, you said, ‘by the next morning.’ How long ago did they leave?”

  The healer ducked her head. “The evening of the duel. It’s now the third day since you killed Rykan.”

  Sullyan gaped at her. “Over two days ago? And they failed to report from the start?” She swore, startling the distressed healer. “Let me concentrate,” she snapped, her pupils dilating as she flung out her senses to try to locate a familiar psyche.

  Rienne sat unmoving, staring at her hands in her lap. At Sullyan’s exasperated sigh, she jumped, fresh tears appearing in her eyes. The Major spared her some sympathy. She could see how wretched the healer felt. She had been under strict orders not to do what she had just done, but she had known she couldn’t hide the news from Sullyan. They were too close, too attuned, for secrets, especially such emotive ones. Despite her current condition, Sullyan tried to convey an aura of competence, of comfort and capability, knowing Rienne badly needed them right now.

  “Bull was right,” she said, awkwardly pushing herself up in the bed and flinging back the covers. “I cannot contact any of them, and that can only mean one thing.”

  Rienne’s eyes went wide. “They’re not … dead, are they?”

  Sullyan caught her breath. “Of course not! Did Timar not reassure you? You have not been sitting here all this time thinking they could be dead?”

  “Well, I tried not to, but I couldn’t get it out of my mind. No one mentioned the possibility, but I just thought they were being kind.”

  Sullyan snorted. “Kind? It was not kind to leave you worrying. Timar should have told you. No, Rienne, they are alive. If they had died there would be blankness, but I can faintly sense each psyche. Spellsilver blocks all contact, but it does not, thankfully, hide the pattern completely. It does mean, though, that I cannot use their patterns to track them. I am puzzled as to why someone would abduct Cal and Taran, but I assume Bulldog and Robin managed to find them. It appears they were careless enough to get caught too, but if they could track them, so can I.” She slid carefully out of the bed and looked pointedly at the healer. “You will have to help me, Rienne. I cannot dress one-handed.”

  “What on earth are you doing? You’ve lost a lot of blood and you’ve been badly wounded. You can’t possibly go after them yourself. You’re not nearly fit enough!”

  “Of course I can. Who else is there? Has Timar sent someone after them?”

  “I don’t know.” Unhappily, Rienne eyed the dressings on Sullyan’s thin body and the strapping on her arm. “I think he mentioned getting the patrols to look out for them. He’s bound to come and check on you soon. Why don’t you wait and ask him?”

  “He will have other things on his mind right now.” Sullyan’s fear made her short-tempered. “Now, will you help me or must I call a page?”

  Swiftly but reluctantly, the healer brushed and braided Sullyan’s tawny hair. The Major indicated her combat leathers, neatly laid out on a chest along one wall. “What about your arm?” asked Rienne as she brought the clothes over.

  “Bind it to my waist. Then I can still get my shirt on and it will be protected when I ride. Who guards my door?”

  “It’s one of the Hierarch’s pages, a boy who reminds me a bit of Tad at the Manor. Apparently the leader of your group of pirates gave him the duty so they could all go and join the celebrations.”

  Rienne sounded disapproving, and Sullyan surmised she had heard about Vanyr’s actions prior to the duel. She smiled despite her fear for her friends. Vanyr was no threat to her now, so Ky-shan must have arranged for the boy to guard her suite as a joke, knowing it would irritate the Commander.

  “His name is Norkis. Would you ask him to come in?”

  The lad entered the room at Rienne’s request, hurriedly averting his eyes from Sullyan’s half-dressed state.

  “Norkis, I want you to run down to the horse lines and tell the horse master to saddle Drum.”

  The lad cocked his head. “I was told to report back if you woke, Lady Brynne. I will go to the horse master, but I really
ought to tell his Majesty as well.”

  She grinned at him. “Very well. But you don’t have to hurry over the task, do you?”

  Norkis scampered off, thoroughly understanding. Rienne finished strapping Sullyan’s arm around her body and then helped the Major into her shirt, leathers, and boots. “I’m still not happy about this, Brynne. You’re nowhere near fit. The Hierarch will be so angry with you. And with me.”

  Hearing her unhappiness, Sullyan captured her gaze. “We may be guests in his palace, but we are not his subjects. And I am not about to abandon my friends to whatever has befallen them.” Her expression softened on seeing Rienne’s distress. “Ah, do not worry so. I will not go courting danger. I do know I am not fully fit. I give you my word that if I need help, I will summon it. If it will make you feel better, give me half an hour and then find Timar. Tell him what I am doing, if Norkis has not already done so. Assure him I will keep in contact. And if you need something to take your mind off waiting, then you could offer your services to Deshan. He is over-occupied at the moment, and the two of you could learn much from each other.

  “Now, pass me my sword belt.”

  Sullyan left the suite, a small pack slung over her shoulder. Stiffly, she strode through the corridors and out into the courtyard, noting with a wry grimace that the weather had turned. It was drizzling, the kind of persistent rain that got into all the warm, dry places under your clothes and soaked you to the skin.

  With her good hand, she pulled up the hood of her cloak. At least it disguised who she was. The last thing she wanted was to be accosted before she reached the horse lines.

  It was not her lucky day.

  The barracks were deserted, but just when she thought she had escaped unnoticed, a lithe figure stepped out of a doorway in front of her and turned her way. Recognizing her immediately, Vanyr widened his eyes with surprise. Sullyan swore under her breath, annoyed that she might be delayed, especially by him. She was in no mood to play Vanyr’s games right now.