by Colt, K. J.
She moved in front of me and tossed her long, dark hair over her shoulder. ‘King Erageo requested you stay one night in Borrelia on our way to Meligna. This is acceptable to me. Two royal guards, assigned by the king, will accompany us on our journey. One for you and one for Jemely. I hope she won’t cause trouble.’
I shook my head. ‘She won’t.’
The ambassador inspected my face, then continued walking across the grassy stretch. ‘I abhor the idea of a mother and a child being separated, but you are no ordinary child, and so what is usual for others is not usual for you. As a healer, you transcend the lines of ethics and morality.’
I didn’t know what she meant by that, and I didn’t care to know. After hearing the way she had spoken in court, I decided she didn’t, and couldn’t, ever speak good sense.
‘Almost all traces of black are gone from your hair.
Your appearance is exotic in the full sense of the word.’
I’d been purposely avoiding mirrors since coming to the castle; the maid had tried to persuade me, but I’d insisted. In that golden appearance was my future. A future I wasn’t quite ready to face.
‘Why is your hair dark?’ I asked.
Her face lit up. ‘The gold of your hair will not last. We see it like the first bloom of a flower. It beautifies and fades. The gold is a sign that your healing ability has reached maturity, even though healer girls can heal from a young age. It is tradition that they be ready.
When you have finished changing from girl to woman, your hair will go back to its original hue. Perhaps when you are eighteen or nineteen. I’m hoping we’ll—’
‘Do you keep slaves?’
She halted, played with a golden ring on her finger, and took time to consider her answer. ‘They are not mistreated,’ she said eventually.
‘By definition they are mistreated. We have nothing in common.’
She sniffed. ‘Decisiveness at your age isn’t a strength. I’d hoped that—well, I am getting older, and I’m looking for a companion. The life of an ambassador does not suit attachment, and I’ve never had a close friend. While most healers are trained in groups, I would happily train you separately.’
‘Train?’
‘Yes. To become a healer.’
‘To lay with men?’ I asked, showing her I wouldn’t be tricked by her sweet words. ‘To be a whore.’
She chuckled delightedly. ‘A healthy and functioning city requires that everyone play their part. This is bigger than you. This isn’t about laying with men. Thousands of years of healer history will be at your fingertips. The act of healing is and has always been sacred. We respect our bodies, and we care about the wellbeing of others. When the Queens took control of Meligna, the Wicked King burned our texts, our history, everything, yet we wrote everything down again and now have the only copies. But yes’—she waved a hand nonchalantly—‘as you say, one day we expect you to heal men, and that requires laying with them.’
‘Why do you ask for so much coin then?’
‘It is my right because it is my body. I am a person. I have feelings even if my body heals quickly, my soul can be scarred. Those that can afford a large sum of money usually won’t disrespect or hurt me.’
Her argument made sense, and as I stared up at her face, I realised that maybe she’d been hurt during the Death Plague. Maybe she’d been raped, or beaten, or forced to heal people, but it wouldn’t be polite to ask her.
‘Will you force me to lay with men? Do I have a choice?’ I did have an interest in the history of healers, but I held no enthusiasm for using my gifts against my will.
The healer laughed. ‘It amuses me to see the attitudes of this hateful part of Senya reflected in one of our own. You need training first, after that we’ll talk. When you see the good you do for others, I promise you’ll want to heal people.’ I doubted that.
‘You have power. In Meligna, you have control.’ She trailed a fingernail across her jawline as she remembered some delight.
But I didn’t care about what pleased her, and tiredness dulled my thoughts and wit. I looked at the soft green grass that stretched to the boundary wall.
‘Forgive me,’ she said. ‘You have a great many troubles to deal with. Change is always hard. Just know that your life would be easier under my instruction.
Come.’ She turned to lead me back inside.
I scanned my surroundings. Besides the two soldiers standing guard at the castle, there was no one else keeping watch over us. ‘Wait. Will you do something for me?’
She placed a finger on her chin expectantly. ‘Yes?’
‘Where is Jemely kept?’
‘In the prison cells. She is a criminal, after all.’
I bit my lip. ‘I want her out of there.’
‘I don’t know if—’
‘You want to earn my trust? You want to get to know me better? Then get my friend out of the prisons.
She can stay with me in my room.’
The healer regarded me for a moment and nodded.
‘Very well.’ She gestured for me to follow her.
We went back to my room where she left me to go fetch Jemely. The lock in the door didn’t turn after she left, and the knowledge that I had chosen to go to Meligna and sacrifice myself for the happiness of all the healers coming after me made me smile. Mother would be devastated to see me go, though, and I would miss
Mystoria, Butter, and Varago’s terrible cracking knees.
An hour later, Jemely burst into the room and we hugged. She almost squeezed the air from my lungs.
‘Adenine,’ she said, pushing me away so she could see my eyes.
‘You smell,’ I said.
She punched my arm. ‘Don’t want none of your cheek, girl. Healer or not, you don’t talk to me like I’m a piece of scum. Your shit smells as bad as mine, you know.’
I laughed out loud for the first time in days. ‘I believe you. You do stink though. Take a bath. I’ll have the maid fetch you clean clothes. Maybe a pretty pink dress to flower up your dreary state.’
‘I don’t wear dresses. Although…there’s some sturdy manly flesh strutting about this place. They’re certainly worthy of having my bosom push up against their—’
I clamped my hand over her mouth as Anaya entered the room with towels. She took our orders for supper and left. Jemely bathed, then dressed in a garment so stylish that I couldn’t stop laughing. She combed her hair with her fingers and gobbled up the meal that soon followed.
‘The king visited me,’ I told her.
‘What? In here?’ She lowered her voice to a whisper.
‘He better not be up to no funny business.’
I sniffed. ‘No, but…’ I leaned closer to her. ‘He wants me to spy on the healers, and he said he’d get me away from Meligna as soon as he could.’
‘Adenine! You’re all important now, working for the king and all. Don’t you realise?’
I shrugged, but then a troubling thought came to mind.
‘What?’ she asked, seeing the change in my expression.
‘Why did you pick Meligna to be trialled?’
‘Wanted to be close to you, didn’t I? Uncle doesn’t need me for assistant work no more, and I figured you’d need someone to remind you that you ain’t no blueblooded healer girl. You’re southern Senyan, born and true. High and mighty ain’t our way.’
‘But what if they send you to prison?’
‘Better put in a good word for me, then, eh?’ She smiled.
I didn’t think I’d have much influence over Healer Euka.
‘Don’t think about it,’ she said. ‘Let’s get home first.
We’ll have a send-off. Strong wine, good food. You’ll see Butter, Capacia, Frooby…’ She stopped when she looked at my face. ‘What is it?’
‘I can’t stop thinking about him. I just left him on the ground, unconscious, outside. I don’t know if he’s all right and I’m so worried about him.’
She rubbed my back. ‘Uncle will keep an
eye on him.’
My eyes stung with the threat of tears and I had to look away as they rolled down my cheeks. I wiped my nose with my sleeve.
Jemely clicked her tongue at me. ‘Snotting all over your sleeves is not the action of a lady.’
We talked for many hours, devising plans and schemes for all possible scenarios. For instance, we were certain that Jemely wouldn’t be allowed to see me much, but if they let her work in the city, she could find a way to report to me about the happenings of the citizens.
We consoled each other over Klawdia’s banishment, yet we both believed she was invincible and would survive. I told Jemely that the king planned to make sure she lived and wasn’t handed over to the Ruxdor people. While Klawdia couldn’t come into South or
North Senya legally, she could still do it unlawfully. That was her specialty anyway. She was a lawbreaker, free from chains and obligations.
When our minds became sluggish and our words more sound than sense, we lay on the bed. I tried to think about the journey back to Borrelia, but my mind tugged me down and relaxed my resolve. I slept.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
BEFORE OUR DEPARTURE THE NEXT day, I asked after Klawdia, but a soldier informed me she’d already left for Ruxdor. My heart sank, and a longing pressed in my chest. She had been my hero, a loyal companion and friend that I would never forget.
Jemely and I were not permitted to change our clothes before we left. Healer Euka insisted she would not be seen with commoners, saying, ‘Citizens of Meligna do not wear rags and tatters.’
But I worried that my bright garments might invite further hatred from the townspeople. Who was I fooling? No longer could I mingle as a common girl. I was a healer and had to get used to the attention it drew.
Healer Euka rode her own silvery mare while our two appointed royal soldiers rode brown thoroughbreds. Jemely and I doubled up with the men, and the five of us rode our three horses away from the castle, through the gates, and out into the main areas of the city.
The ambassador insisted we take a detour to the southern side of the city against the advice of our armoured escorts. We passed city buildings in adequate condition. Most were occupied and seemed similar to those in Borrelia: built with stone, thatched roofs, small, square windows. Then we went down a hill that led to scorched ruins. Statues and stonework lay in ruined mounds. Debris blocked the main road, which had cracked and shifted from neglect. Our horses could barely move through the rubble mess.
Small encampments with clumsily pitched tents housed thin, dirty people who huddled around small fires. The people were desperate to warm the skin that their ripped clothes left uncovered.
‘These houses have yet to be rebuilt from the war twenty years ago,’ Healer Euka said.
As we ventured farther into the poorest parts, I noticed some people were missing limbs, and few had adequate shoes. They roasted dead rats and pigeons over small fires, and cold, starving children begged on the street.
‘Why is it like this?’ I asked, staring in horror.
‘The people revolted against the healers. They once occupied this section of the city. King Erageo must spend conservatively since the war left him penniless. The surrounding Juxon City farms mostly serve the wealthier people. South Senya has no friends. Trade with the Bivinians once helped Senya flourish, but they hate the healers and condemn the son of the Wicked King. Of course it’s not King Erageo’s fault, he inherited this broken place. Without trade, economy, and a properly functioning society, innocent people die.’
I noticed people began to gather around my horse. They fell to their knees, pointing at me and saying, ‘Heal! Heal!’
Guilt overwhelmed me, and I looked away.
‘It’s horrible, isn’t it?’ Healer Euka said, but I saw no genuine pity in her features, and she screwed up her nose. That was how those people affected her.
I reached into my pocket and threw all the money I had—twenty silver pieces—to the ground. The beggars looked up at me, shocked at my generosity. To my horror, instead of picking up the money, the people began to attack each other. One lady pulled the hair of another. A little girl was knocked to the ground by a man whose skin seemed to hang from his bones.
‘Stop that!’ I yelled, but the people ignored me.
More joined in, and the fight turned into a brawl. People screamed and shouted. One person pointed at me, and they charged at us.
‘Go!’ said the soldier I was clinging to, and we galloped away.
The crowd gave up, and tears formed in my eyes. Despite my difficult childhood, my parents had been wealthy, and that made me grateful for the life I’d led.
When we found our way back to the cobblestone streets and soundly structured buildings, I noticed the increased presence of soldiers and guards. They must keep order. In this part of the city, people smiled and laughed. The markets had fresh vegetables, fruit, and meat, and no one begged for money or food.
‘To put it simply, your king refuses to restore your country to its former glory out of fear of being attacked,’ Healer Euka said. The more she pointed out how destitute the kingdom was, the more I hated her. She offered only criticism, no sympathy, no intention to help us or aid in our poverty. She only revelled in her city’s superiority. ‘If we invaded, we would be successful. Everything would be made well again…’
After many had died, I thought bitterly.
‘…and people would smile. They’d be clean, well fed, happy. But we don’t want to start a war. We don’t want death. We respect King Erageo, and as long as he leads his people in a good direction and cooperates with us, we will leave South Senya untouched. But it seems he is certain to take an unwise route now, and we may have to remove his right to rule. There is a value much greater than tradition, and that is life itself, and this kingdom is dying.’
‘Why don’t you help him?’ I asked.
Healer Euka brought her horse in line with me. ‘He only need ask, but of course, being a man, he won’t display that kind of weakness. Maybe one day, someone will talk sense into him.’ She gave me a knowing look.
I glanced at Jemely, and she stared into the distance. It was not like her to be so quiet, and I wondered about her thoughts. Mother had spoken about Juxon City as a prosperous, magnificent place. Yet Mrs. Moferbury had called it Pilferer’s Paradise. Maybe it was both.
The soldier I rode behind spoke. ‘Most of Juxon does well enough, and we’re getting back on our feet more than before.’ He pointed to the right. ‘See all those houses? People of healthy minds and spirits live there. The poor part is the lowest of low and makes up only a third of the city. It used to be half.’ He sounded irritated. He obviously believed that the city had improved, and I was inclined to believe him.
‘Who said you could talk?’ Healer Euka asked, and the soldier said nothing more.
Outside of the city gates, people lined up to enter. Most appeared to be farmers, hunters, or travellers. They stared as we passed; most scowled until they saw mine and Healer Euka’s eyes, which made them gasp. Children pointed and parents smacked their hands. The adults threw me worried looks, as if I had some sort of power over them. I didn’t like that people feared me.
For a moment, I wished I were blind again.
‘It’ll be a day’s ride from here, faster than in the carriages, and we should be in Borrelia by late afternoon,’ Healer Euka said.
I held on tight as we picked up speed. In front of us were farmlands, ponds, and people selling food, wines, preserves, clothing, and animals from the backs of their carts. Most smiled and seemed happy.
After a few more hours of riding, we came to a tavern and stopped for food and drink. I had never been in one before and liked the warm air and free-flowing conversations. We received many sideways glances, but no one bothered us. We ate in silence. Jemely didn’t finish her food.
‘Are you well?’ I asked her.
‘Of course.’ She grinned at me, but it was forced.
When we had filled our be
llies, we resumed our ride. Even though my bottom ached, all I could think about was seeing Mother, Butter, and Frooby.
We arrived in Borrelia as the sun was setting. A steady snowfall made the town look grey. Brown, ash, and black had replaced the red, orange, and yellow of autumn. As we rode towards the centre of town, I saw the familiar fork in the road and immediately wanted to call on Frooby.
I managed to get a glimpse of his farmhouse in the distance. Smoke coiled into the air from the chimney. Next, I looked at Klawdia’s house. The building stood still, the windows dark and the chimney smokeless. Never again would she live there.
The first snows had brought icy breezes, which made me glad for the thickness of my dress. As we entered the village, candles flickered in windows, and the streets were empty. Laughter echoed around the square, and a bard sang in the Borrelia tavern. Mayor Vawdon came out of the council hall to greet us, and I remembered the letter Emala had given me. I was surprised to see that the mayor had arrived before us. At his side were several older men and three Borrelia guards, one of them royal like our soldiers.
I glanced at Mystoria to see the door closed, and no light emanated from within. Had Mother ceased trading for the day?
‘Well met, Healer Euka,’ the mayor said. ‘We heard the girls were to stay one day before you continued your journey to Meligna. We’ve arranged a room for you in the tavern, and Feval here’—the mayor pointed at the royal guard—‘will escort you inside.’
Healer Euka narrowed her eyes at the royal soldier, and I knew the king had sent Feval to make sure the ambassador behaved herself until she crossed the northern border. A smile threatened to erupt on my face, and I looked at Jemely who was as smug as a rat who’d stolen cheese.
Several townspeople had emerged from their homes to stand in the cold and watch our exchange. They stared at my clothes. Their dresses, pants, and shirts were grey and brown cotton. My own blue silken dress pierced the pale white of the snow-filled air. I stood out, and that set me apart.
Our small group of onlookers became five, then ten, and soon people stopped to point and whisper to each other. I thought back to the night we had left. How they’d hated me. A few paces away, Varago’s house seemed unusually quiet, and Jemely stared at it.