Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3) (14 page)

Elder Davon’s smiled turned wry. “Truly the Lord of Justice works in marvelous ways, if he can use Ozor’s greed to save our people from corruption.”

Nirel laughed. “Just don’t tell Ozor he’s being used. He’d hate that idea.”

“The Lord of Justice uses us all to achieve his ends.” From someone else the words might have seemed like a shallow platitude, but from Elder Davon they sounded grave and profound, the truth of the universe. “Go now, daughter. I suspect the wizards will be working in the Beggars’ Quarter again. If you see an opportunity to incite conflict between them and the Matriarch, take it; don’t wait to come to me for orders. I trust you to use your judgement and resourcefulness to determine which course best advances our ultimate goal. But do report to me as soon and as often as possible on your progress.”

“Yes, Elder.” Nirel was still nervous about facing Josiah again, but her heart glowed at Davon’s expression of confidence.

He bowed to the Ordinance scroll, and Nirel followed suit. After only a brief time he rose and beckoned to her. He slipped through the gap in the draperies and she followed him out of the shrine.

Eight

J
osiah wiped sweat from his brow. The winter sun was warmer here than at home, and the high buildings blocked whatever breeze the sea might offer. But at least it wasn’t summer. Kevessa said the heat got so intense everyone stopped work in the early afternoon and took a nap.

He sure would welcome a nap now. He and Elkan had arrived in the Beggars’ Quarter before sunrise to set up their work space. Elkan had ordered chairs and cots brought from the palace; apparently the Matriarch didn’t object, because her servants complied. He’d had the Matriarch’s guards cordon off one corner of the square and arranged the space as an impromptu Mother’s Hall. Now the guards kept order among the huge throngs of Ramunnans who’d assembled to beg the wizards’ help. A long line snaked back and forth across the broken, weed-choked flagstones and wound between the decaying buildings. At its head, a handful of guards labored to sort and prioritize the patients. Those with urgent needs were sent to shorter lines to wait for Elkan or Josiah. The rest were turned back, some told to return later, others admonished to keep away and not waste the wizards’ time.

Josiah and Sar had worked non-stop all morning on the straightforward cases, while Elkan and Tobi tackled the more complex challenges. He’d lost count of how many infections they’d cured, how many wounds they’d closed, how many tumors they’d forced to wither away. He was as exhausted as after a long Sixthday in Elathir, and the day was barely half over.

He patted the hand of the elderly man whose weeping bedsores they’d just finished healing. “All done.” He turned to the almost as old woman who helped him struggle off the cot. “Remember to have him change positions often so this won’t happen again.”

She nodded and they tottered off. Josiah feared they wouldn’t make it back to their miserable hovel alone, but the guards were too busy to assist them. He couldn’t worry about them, though. Too many more desperate people were waiting for help.

He turned back to the line of patients. Before he could beckon another over, Elkan called, “Josiah! Time to break for the midday meal. The Matriarch sent us a nice spread.”

Josiah turned away from the dozens of hopeful, resigned, impatient, angry, bleak, or numb faces watching him. “We’ll be back in a few minutes,” he promised. He felt awful leaving them to wait even longer for attention, but the Law insisted that wizards meet their own needs for food and rest, even if it meant letting people suffer longer. Only in an emergency where immediate action was necessary to save lives were they allowed to neglect those things. For the first time Josiah appreciated why that provision of the Law was necessary, and why Elkan and some of the other wizards found it so difficult to follow. It was hard to tear himself away from his patients’ needs. It would be so easy to let their endless craving for the Mother’s power suck him and Sar dry. But that wouldn’t do anyone any good. They could help a lot more people in the long run if they stopped to renew their energy now.

Sar plodded to the pile of hay someone had deposited in the sliver of shade cast by the building to their south. Next to it, Tobi tore into a big haunch of raw meat. Elkan sat at a table nearby, methodically devouring the food spread across its surface.

Josiah dropped into the other chair and scooped portions from the various platters and bowls onto his plate. Everything was delicious, in the strongly spiced Ramunnan manner he’d gotten used to on the voyage. But at the moment he’d have shoveled in stale bread, tough meat and overcooked vegetables with equal gusto, he was so hungry.

Between mouthfuls he asked, “Any word from Kevessa?”

Elkan shook his head and took another bite. When he finished chewing, he said, “I’m sure she has a good reason for staying away. She’ll come when she can without arousing suspicion.”

“I guess.” Josiah buried his resentment. They’d done a good job yesterday keeping Kevessa’s wizardry a secret while letting her share the load. He’d looked forward to working with her again today. He’d been surprised when Gevan had told them she’d decided to spend the night in her own home after all. Though probably he shouldn’t have been. It was only natural for her to want to see the family she’d been away from for months. She hadn’t even gotten to say good-bye to them when she left. But he’d thought it had been decided that she’d be staying at the palace for a while.

He scowled at his plate. He was still attracted to Kevessa, but it was starting to look as if she didn’t return his feelings. On the ship, under her father’s watchful eye, he’d kept things friendly, content to enjoy spending time in her company without trying to move things in a physical direction. Confined to the ship as they were, that could have gotten awfully uncomfortable if it didn’t work out. She’d seemed equally content to maintain a companionable relationship, but he’d harbored hopes that she, too, was biding her time, and that once they arrived in Ramunna she’d be willing to entertain the prospect of going further.

But now it looked like she’d only been waiting for the chance to get away from him. Maybe he wasn’t good enough for her. Maybe she was eager to get back to the rich and powerful sons of the aristocracy she’d told him about, the ones her parents would be choosing from to arrange her marriage in a few short years. It wasn’t like they’d consider a foreign potter’s son a suitable match, even if the Mother had chosen him as a wizard. Of course, he was far from sure he’d be interested even if they did. Kevessa was nice, but he had four years before he made journeyman and would be eligible to marry. Better to keep his options open.

They could at least have fooled around a little, though. He was sixteen and he’d only ever kissed two girls.

Not that he was counting.

Kevessa was probably relaxing at her family’s table right now, daintily partaking of a few choice delicacies. Not shoveling in food to replenish energy burned in an intense morning’s work and storing up fuel for the equally strenuous afternoon ahead. While he and Sar were exhausting themselves doing the Mother’s will, she’d be spending hours in idleness. That’s not how a wizard was supposed to act. When there was need, a wizard was expected to pitch in to meet it as best she could.

As much as Josiah would have loved to keep eating, his groaning stomach couldn’t accommodate another bite. Elkan and Tobi were already back at work. Josiah pushed back his chair.
Sar, you ready?

Another moment.
The donkey thrust his muzzle into a waiting bucket of water.

Josiah rose and stretched, grateful for the brief reprieve. He eyed the waiting crowds apprehensively. There were more people than ever lined up. They hadn’t even made a dent. At this rate they could labor until the Matriarch’s child was full grown and not help everyone who needed them.

A stir among the waiting throngs caught his attention. A young man in long, richly embroidered robes was pushing through the crowd. As Josiah watched, he reached the guards at the entrance to the blocked-off space and started talking to them. Apparently they didn’t give him the answer he wanted, because he began to gesture urgently and Josiah heard his strident voice rise above the noise of the crowd.

Josiah glanced over at Elkan. His master was deeply engaged in a healing, his head bent close to Tobi’s over a child on a cot, his hands pouring golden light. Josiah sighed and headed over to handle the situation himself.

As he approached, the young man reined in his temper. He spread his hands and lowered his voice. “I understand the wizards are busy. But all I want is to offer my assistance with their work. I’m willing to wait until one of them has a moment to speak with me.”

The guard started to deny him again, but Josiah lifted his voice to drown him out. “Hey, we can use all the help we can get.” He pushed past the guard and eyed the newcomer. “Do you know much about healing?”

The young man flushed. He looked to be only a couple years older than Josiah, but carried himself with assurance that bordered on arrogance. “Not really, but I’ve worked with the people of the Beggars’ Quarter a great deal. They know and trust me. I thought I might be able to help organize things so you wizards can concentrate on healing.” He extended a hand. “I’m Keeper Vigorre Rothen. My father is Emirre Rothen, First Keeper of Ramunna’s Temple.”

“Keeper?” Josiah said as he accepted Vigorre’s gesture, remembering to clasp his hand in the Ramunnan style instead of the way that was customary in Tevenar. “That’s kind of like a wizard here, right? You serve the Mother?”

Vigorre inclined his head stiffly. “I lead the people of Ramunna in the Mother’s worship, yes.”

“Great!” Josiah exclaimed, pulling Vigorre into the blocked-off space with a reassuring wave to the guard. “Anyone who serves the Mother is welcome to help us. My name’s Josiah, by the way. Josiah Potterkin Wizard. I’ll introduce you to Elkan when we get the chance, but it looks like he and Tobi are going to be busy for a while.”

Vigorre eyed Tobi with the wary fascination typical of people seeing the mountain cat for the first time. She
was
awfully intimidating, with her long teeth, massive body, and razor claws. But Vigorre would soon discover she was friendlier than most house cats.

Sar came over and shoved his head under Josiah’s arm. He gave the donkey a quick squeeze around the neck. “This is my familiar, Sar.” Sar extended his nose toward Vigorre, perked his ears forward, and snorted.

Vigorre jerked back, staring at Sar with almost the same expression he’d used on Tobi. His voice was strained. “Your familiar.”

“Yeah. Want to see us use the Mother’s power? Gevan didn’t believe it was real until he saw it, but I’d think Keepers would be less skeptical. I don’t think Gevan really believes in the Mother, and that’s just silly. He’s brilliant, though. Have you seen his window-glass? He told me he’d show me his workshop, but I think it’s going to be a long time before I’ve got a free moment to go there with him. Maybe on Restday.” Probably he shouldn’t chatter so much, but it was so nice to have a guy near his own age to talk with again.

Josiah beckoned to the first cluster of people in his line. A woman led forward a child about eight years old whose face and arms were covered with small red dots.

“Another one of these,” he murmured to Vigorre. “We’ve been getting a bunch of them today. It’s not something I’ve ever seen in Tevenar, but Elkan says there are old records that describe it. Measles, I think he said it was called?”

Vigorre nodded. “It’s very common. Seldom fatal in children, but serious in older people. There’s not much to be done but to make sure the patient drinks enough to stay hydrated while they wait it out.”

Josiah grinned. “It’s kind of borderline for whether we should spend our energy on it or send them away to heal on their own, but Elkan says there are complications often enough it’s worth it. Besides, this is one the Mother’s power can handle quick and easy. And the kids are so miserable with the fever and itchiness.”

Sure enough, the boy was so listless when Josiah boosted him up to sit on the cot that he barely spared Sar a glance. He was hot to the touch, and he kept reaching to scratch his spots, while his mother batted his hand away. “Can you talk to them, tell them what we’re going to do? I’ve been working hard on my Ramunnan, but I don’t always catch every word, and I think people have been having a hard time understanding my accent.”

From Vigorre’s slightly glazed look Josiah wasn’t sure the young man understood him completely, either. But he turned to the woman and took her hands. “It’s all right,” he told her. “The wizard will heal your son. Step over here with me and we’ll watch him work.”

He guided the woman to a spot where she could see clearly but would be out of Josiah and Sar’s way. Vigorre’s manner was gentle and comforting, much more relaxed than his stiffness with Josiah. Elkan would approve. Josiah wished such skills came as easily to him. Hard as he tried, people didn’t seem inclined to trust him.

Kids were easy, though. He grinned at the boy. “We’re going to shine a bright light on you, all over your body. It will feel kind of warm and tingly. Once we’re finished you won’t be sick any more.”

The boy nodded and scratched fiercely at the back of his neck. “Will you make it stop itching?”

“Yep.” This was going to be fun. Josiah put his hand on Sar’s back. “Here we go.”

Sar sent the Mother’s power flowing through him. Josiah took a moment to check that it was in fact the same disease he’d been healing all day. Lemony taste, sharp camphor scent, wash of dull reddish brown speckled with yellow, low hiss, prickling all over his skin—yep, it was measles, all right. He gave Sar the go-ahead and the donkey turned on the healing blast. The disease sped to its conclusion in the space of a few seconds. Josiah wasn’t even breathing hard when the last traces were gone.

He let go of Sar and lifted the boy down. “There you go. All better.”

The boy blinked for a moment, then scampered over to his mother and grabbed her hand. “It stopped itching!”