by P. S. Power
When they got to the correct door, Princess Peri tapped on it gently. The woman that came to answer it, Mistress Colm, he presumed, was a bit different than he would have guessed. She had brown hair, and an affable face that, while not as lovely as the woman next to her, was still rather pleasant to look at. Her nose was a trifle strong across the center, but not unattractively so. Her face was schooled, toward blankness, rather than a frown.
“Princess. There is no change. She sleeps, but fitfully. She barely takes the water or elixir that I can give her for her breathing.” She glanced down, a bit, into Anders’ eyes. The woman was no more than a few inches taller than he was. She took in his bright clothing, which looked like rich silk. “Forgive me, my lord.”
She didn’t say why he needed to do that at all. Farad got the idea first, that the woman wanted to know why some little boy was there, suddenly. It normally wouldn’t make sense.
“I’m immune to the red fever, having recently defeated it. I learned to control portions of it at the time, and have learned some small bit of magic since, so I can, possibly, share this with Princess Mathia. If not, well, then the attempt it will be harmless. We lose nothing in trying it.” At least he hoped that was the case. If he killed the girl then he’d need to simply fling himself off the eastern tower, inside the hour. Not out of fear of reprisal, only over the failure of it.
Hopefully, that wouldn’t be needed.
Rather than call him a liar or even roll her eyes, the herb woman simply moved to let him inside the room. That was much nicer than what he had. Then, he wasn’t a Princess. The bed looked nice, being made of wood, with curtains all around it. Those were of heavy material, the sturdy kind, but dyed in festive colors. Mainly blues and greens. There was a small stool by the bedside and a bowl of water, with a damp white cloth in it. Also, some small bottles on the low table next to it.
The room smelled of perfume, but also sweat and urine. Apparently sick Princesses smelled like everyone else did when ill. Anders didn’t wait, simply waving for Mistress Colm to come with him.
“I’ll have to touch her, at first. Just on the head and only lightly.”
That got a nod, as if it made some kind of sense.
“Sowln- ere ot neg- fen ot ban.” He touched the girl, who had the normal red rash across her face, which was normally prettier than it looked at the moment. She was damp with sweat and warm enough that she had to be miserable, just from that. Carefully, he indicated where he wanted the swelling to go down, knowing that it was inside the skull that needed to be affected.
Then he sat back, and started again.
“Ferven- ere ot neg- fen ot ban.” This time he held his hand over her head, then waved it to just under her feet. There was no need to touch her for the spell, since she needed her whole form cooled.
Then he stood, but waited for a few seconds, since the Princess opened her eyes. She coughed, sounding raspy and wet inside the lungs, but managed a smile.
“Hello. I wasn’t expecting visitors.”
Mistress Colm moved in and touched the girl, who was at least three years older than Anders was, on the forehead.
“Amazing. Your mother seems to have contracted a proper healer for you. He used magic to fix your fever.”
Anders snorted a bit.
“Proper healer? I doubt that, it just being me. It does seem to have worked though, even with that impediment in the way. How is your head feeling?”
She wrinkled her brow then and touched it. A bit gingerly, at first.
“Not too bad, any longer. A bit of pain, across the sides, near the front. It felt like it was being crushed before, so it’s much better. I’m well now?”
Anders smiled at her and then shook his head.
“Not at all. You’re still with the sickness and can spread it. Also, you need to drink a potion for your breathing. I might be able to aid with that as well, but it will take some hours to work that spell up. You can’t leave your room for at least a week. Your fever and the swelling of your brain will stay away that long, but I’ll check in on you a few times. Later today and then at need, if you have one. You should rest and drink as much water as you can. Fast from food, as well.” If she was feeling anything like he had with the fever, that would be required of her, regardless.
The girl coughed again, which sounded miserable, but she managed a smile for him.
“Thank you, Master Brolly. I should...” She tried to get up then, as if that made any sense at all.
Anders waved her down.
“You should rest, if you can. Regardless, stay in your rooms for at least a week. Even if you feel better. That’s the magic, not you actually being well. Still, if you have to be sick, doing it without feeling like, well, you were a few moments ago, is the better way to do it.” He smiled again, then moved toward the door of the room. Mistress Colm did it with him, after whispering to Mathia for a few moments.
Princess Peri was still in the hallway.
“You couldn’t aid her?” She seemed concerned about that, but stopped speaking when Mistress Colm curtsied at her.
“Master... Brollen, was it?”
Peri corrected her, almost instantly.
“Master Anders Brolly.”
The herb woman nodded.
“Yes, that’s it. Master Brolly here muttered a few words, waved his hands a little and took her fever and the thickness in her head away. Perfectly, as far as I can determine. She still needs to rest and I was told she’s still actually ill, so can make others sick as well, correct, Master Healer?”
He simply nodded, not correcting his title. He was, it seemed, on healing for the moment, so it was merely a polite way to address him, not a way to suggest he was more than he truly was.
“That’s right. I’ll be back later to help with her breathing and make sure everything is holding correctly. It should, for the next week. By then she should be much better and not spreading things any longer. I can meet you later, to walk me back in, Princess Peri?” When the words were out he realized that he’d probably misspoken.
Even to him it sounded as if he were setting a meeting up with the woman for some reason. Probably an inappropriate one, given who he was.
She merely smiled at him and nodded.
“That would be fine. Now, what would you like, for your payment?” She seemed cheery about the idea, instead of acting as if it were a major hardship or trial for her.
He nearly said nothing, but then realized that the woman was a Princess. One day she’d be queen, even. It wouldn’t do to either insult her or leave a debt hanging between them.
“You know, I could use some linen. The heavy kind, used for armor? I need to make some and I think I can use magic for it, but I can’t create cloth from nothing. The sewing, changing the color and all that will be easy enough. At least if I do it correctly. That’s everything though, isn’t it?” Most things truly did require you to do them right, if they were to be accomplished at all.
Instead of frowning or acting as if gold were the only thing of value in the world, she clapped her hands. It was a happy seeming thing.
“A bargain then, given you saved my daughter’s life like you did. I can send that to your room. Do you need anything else?” She looked at him then, her eyes softening a bit.
She was very pretty and, as strange and inappropriate as it was, she seemed to be suggesting that he might ask her for something more adult than some mere cloth.
Anders liked the idea of having a head that was attached to his shoulders, however and Farad could only see the idea as a trap for one like himself. That meant he bowed then, using the flirtatious bow. Then he spoke.
“A most welcome idea. Alas, I must admit that your husband is far too fierce and manly for me to compete with that way. I’d hate to have to force him to thrash me for impertinence.” He smiled then, hoping it was at least mildly charming. Rather than seeming upset, Princess Peri laughed.
It sounded pleasant enough.
“Ah? Someone wil
ling to be polite and hold to propriety? That’s a rare thing here. Thank you, Master Brolly. Do I find you at your chambers, later?”
He shook his head, since offering up that location, even if he had just gently admitted to his own cowardice in order to set her advances aside, might well be taken as an invitation to do more than merely deliver him to her daughter for some work.
“I should be in with Master Depak, I believe? After I attend to the Modroc Ambassador and his people, of course. I fear I rather left some tasks undone, this morning. Hopefully the real servants took the slack up there. They probably did. That hall is being led by Daren Willet now, I hear. Sturdy man, Daren Willet. Ask anyone.” There was no reason not to promote the fellow, after all. As much as anyone at the castle ever had been, Daren was his friend, after all. Plus, he actually was a good man, and brave enough to have stood to a task that had terrified many of the others there.
The Princess curtsied.
“I’ll be there, just after the mid-meal?”
He nodded, even though that hadn’t truly been his plan for the day. Not that there was anything wrong with working on healing and related matters. Plus, he could still see to that and work on the armor, even if it felt like he might not have enough time to do the writing he had planned.
He bowed to both women and left directly, tracing his steps back to the correct door in the ambassadorial hallway. Of interest, everyone was still inside, talking, when he got there. Depak Sona clasped his hands, after answering the door, in his own person.
Anders nodded.
“I can come back? I was just coming in to make certain the morning chores have taken place.”
Depak grinned then.
“Daren came and handled the hallway for us, when he learned that you were sent off to other duties, suddenly. We have some food coming. We took the liberty of arranging that for you, as well as ourselves. Now, we have some things to discuss with you.”
The man waved for him to sit near him at the table, with Aisla on the other side of him. It was clear that the table itself had been made larger, a tingle of magic still on it, and that the chairs were ones brought in. They lacked a new quality to them that the table itself had. The trick there, was that the weight and material of the table had gone up. A thing that wasn’t going to happen, using magic alone.
Looking around, he realized that two of the small tables in the room were missing. No doubt merged with the more proper table and made into what was under his hands at the moment. He didn't comment on the work, just noting how it had been done and working out what he would need, in order to do the same thing. It could be complex, unless he created a single phrase to allow for it. He was going to need that kind of thing, and a lot more, for making armor. Especially the mail.
Looking up, everyone there stared at him. It was a bit uncomfortable.
“Oh! Forgive me. Princess Mathia is feeling much better. There does not seem to be any swelling or fever left. She’s still with the sickness, so needs to be kept away from anyone that might catch it. I’m planning to go later and see if I can aid with her breathing as well. I think I can manage that. I’ll need more meditation.” He shrugged, then realized that probably wasn’t strictly appropriate, given the subject at hand. After all, a deathly ill Princess who was better, if not truly well, was a glad tiding.
A thing that did have everyone there smiling.
Aisla seemed pleased with him. At least she grinned, her tan skin seeming smooth and largely unblemished.
“Wonderful! Now, we should tell you why we’re all waiting for you here, other than to note your success with Mathia. That truly is wonderful news. I was up half the night fretting over her health. She’s doing that well?”
He nodded.
“At least she feels that well and shouldn’t die from the illness. It’s not perfect, by any means. For instance, I doubt she can eat at all, right now. I just told her to fast and let nature take its course that way. To drink water, though. That’s important.” A thing that everyone there would know, he didn't doubt.
Prince Alpert, his blond hair neatly combed and his blue eyes shining a bit, smiled.
“There’s been some news, from Barquea. Ambassador Depak is being recalled. Not in anger or anything, thankfully. It’s just that a more permanent person is being put into place here. He’ll be leaving in the next season, as winter falls here. Some months from now.”
Anders sighed.
“Ah? That’s hard news for me then. I’ll miss you, Depak Sona.”
The man, his short mustache and nearly bald head looking very tidy, nodded.
“All must part company at some point. However, it will not be just yet. Aisla and Prince Alpert, along with Lady Lyse and yourself have been requested, so that Aisla might have her child in our homeland. You have a trip planned before that? It’s a lot of travel in a short time. Will that be well with you?”
He nodded, but then sighed.
“I might be needed here. In my capacity as a magical messenger. Though...” He looked away and then shook his head, not knowing if it could really work. “If I have the correct connections made first, and check in with someone here, I should be able to pass things to the needed parties, regardless of where I am. Twice the work for me, but doable, I think.” It would also make him harder to find in the middle of the night. “On top of that, Master Tolan will have that skill down shortly, as well.”
Really, while it would help to have his skills available for that, Anders became aware that he wasn’t really very important. Nothing he did was essential to the world around him at all. Then, that was the way of children. His goal, truly, should be to learn all he could, while he had time for it. Before his days needed to be spent in constant effort to keep himself fed and serve the world.
It was interesting, hearing the news though. Especially one point in it.
“Wait... I was requested to go, or...” That part nearly didn’t make sense to him. There was, after all, no particular reason for the King of a foreign land to even have heard of him. At least he didn't think there would be.
Aisla grinned at him.
“I have often mentioned you, in missives to my father, for years. His oracle told him that I would be with child soon, so he sent a letter. Several of them, in fact. It takes a while to communicate, in general. Really, we should introduce you to him, so that you can speak to him regularly.” She was, clearly, just making small talk on the last point.
Prince Alpert blinked and then nodded.
“I don’t know if he would allow that. Perhaps a servant could be added to those who can be contacted? That would be... Most effective. Truly, it nearly makes the trip worthwhile, even past the visit with your family.” He glanced at his wife, then over at Lyse. “Do you think you’ll be available, Lyse? I know that your duties here are important.”
There was no sense of irony in the words. It was a simple expression of fact. The Prince understood that his mother’s work, mainly as a spy, was important. A thing that Anders hadn’t really understood before that point. Even Farad hadn’t truly come to that conclusion. There were a lot of that type around, of course.
She nodded, a bit slowly.
“Perhaps? I’ll need to speak with some people on the topic first. It’s interesting that the Sula would expect me to attend with you, Aisla.” She seemed strained for a moment, even as the Princess shrugged.
Then she glanced at Depak Sona. The man looked back, a soft expression coming to his lips. Then there was a shrug, aimed at Lyse.
“To the ways of my people, you and Anders are both family. Your names are known in the Court of Dorian. At least I heard of you, Lyse, before leaving to act as ambassador here.” He waved at Anders then, almost a bit dismissively. “Not you though, Anders. Not by name. Only that some boy might be here who was my great-great-great grandson by marriage.”
Anders felt a slight sense of disappointment, coming from the boy portion of himself. As if fame in a foreign land was a normal thing to have. Inde
ed, he knew of only a handful of individuals in other lands himself, by name. Most of them were leaders. That or horrible monsters.
Farad smiled at the older man, his words coming out as slightly bemused.
“Little did you know that I’d be constantly underfoot, I wager. Always placing demands on you like I do... Speaking of which, since I get the next days off, I need to see to some things. Princess Mathia first, of course. Then... I need to work on some armor. That’s possible, isn’t it? I think I can see how to make cloth armor, but... Mail might too hard for me.” He wondered at the idea, but Depak Sona merely waved the words away.
All of them.
“You are not under foot at all. Indeed, you’ve been most helpful and attentive. As for ring mail... I’ve made it, for myself and others at need. I see no reason you cannot do the same. Just make certain you use solid rings and make them as small as will work. It will strengthen the end product. You can probably do cloth to good effect with what you already have learned. There might need be more effort for the metal portions.”
The words were academic sounding, but left him feeling better about the projects. Even if they were hard to pull off, knowing that they could be done, more, that Depak thought he was capable of the task, was helpful to him. At least he wasn’t going to feel like he was wasting his time as he worked on what he had planned anyway.
Lyse smiled at him.
“That sounds a bit busier than I would have expected, truly. At least with a break in your schedule. You have some time to visit with us, certainly?” She pulled a small fan and used it, even if that didn’t make sense. It was cool in the room, and she waved it in a particular fashion. While looking at him.
It was clearly a code of some sort. One that he hadn’t even heard of before. That she figured he might know enough to get the idea was odd. No one else was acting as if she were being vastly obvious, either. It took a bit of effort, to speak and commit what was done to memory, but he managed it, going into the hallway of Lyse, in his mind, and placed the various movements there, in case it was important, later.
He had to figure that she wanted to speak with him about something. Probably in private. Otherwise she would have simply broached the subject right then and there.