Epic Of Palins 01 - Dagger Star (8 page)

She opened her eyes and looked at the two younger women. Bethral was staring at her with a worried look, but Red was regarding the light ball as if it might bite her. “His suffering started about a year ago,” she told them. “Whipped and beaten daily, combined with starvation and a lack of water.”

“Rape?” Red asked.

“I saw no sign,” Bethral offered.

“Everything but that,” Evie said as she turned the man’s wrist to study the wound there. “His body is failing within, beyond the marks that you see.”

“These medicines can’t help, then?” Bethral showed her the sack just under the bed.

Evie looked over the contents, smelling a few of the salves. “Save these for later. Right now, we need to make him comfortable. Clean and warm is a good beginning. You must also try to get him to drink.”

“He can’t swallow.” Red reminded her.

“He can,” Evie said. “It’s just very difficult, especially since he is unconscious. Trickle it down the inside of his mouth, and stroke his throat with your fingers. You will feel it when he swallows. Go slow.”

“Why bother?” Red asked, looking away at the floor. “He’s as good as dead.”

“No, he is not,” Evie insisted.

Red and Bethral both gave her surprised looks. Evie just smiled. “He’s not dead yet. We will see what the Lord and the Lady will for him.” They still looked puzzled. “You’ve never seen a priestess heal?”

When they shook their heads, she sighed. “It’s rare enough, these days.” Evie knelt by the bed.

She stretched out her arms, holding her hands a few inches over the man’s belly. “I’ll—”

“Water,” Red blurted out. “We need more water.” She snatched up an empty bucket, and bolted out the door.

Evie looked at Bethral, who shrugged. “Gods make Red nervous.”

Evie arched an eyebrow, but didn’t waste words. She turned back to her patient and spread her hands over him. The white star sapphire in her ring glittered in the light, the star gleaming on the stone. She closed her eyes and began to pray.

JOSIAH sharpened the blade of his axe as he waited a good distance from the hut. He’d seen Red bolt out the door, but she’d taken herself off to the barn, and looked to be in no mood to talk.

That suited him as well.

He concentrated on his task, working the blade with a stone. He’d need to cut more wood if they were going to keep the poor wretch warm enough.

The goats lay about him, making soft noises as they dozed. The sun was a hint on the horizon when the door opened and Evie stepped out. Josiah stood, relieved at the sight of her tired smile.

She held the lantern, and he met her on the path. “Will he live?”

She grimaced then, putting her free hand up to smooth her hair. “That’s in the hands of the Lord and the Lady, Josiah. I think I disappointed Bethral. She seemed to expect him to be instantly healed and spring out of the bed.” Evie looked at the morning sky. “I am going to be late.”

Josiah stepped ahead of her, heading toward the shrine. “Did you explain?”

Her voice floated to him from behind. “I did. All the healing went deep, so he looks much the same as he did. Bethral is going to clean him, and try to get some broth or gruel into him. I’ll return, after the services and a good nap. I might bring help.”

“Is that necessary?” Josiah asked carefully.

“Josiah”—Evie was using her “priestly” voice—“you know that it is. The Lord of Light and the Lady of Laughter give us the gift of their magic, but it has to flow through me. If I have another here, I can channel more into the patient, without exhausting myself.”

“You will take care,” Josiah stated. “You will—”

“I will take every precaution.” Evie’s voice softened. “Figure that I will return about midafternoon.”

They had reached the point where they could see the shrine. Josiah stopped, and looked down into her blue eyes. “Evie, how is it that a slave can be abused so? Isn’t the Church doing anything? Are the Regent and Elan—” his voice cracked, and he had to stop to clear his throat.

Evie looked up, and studied his face. “The Church supports the Regent, Josiah. And the Regent and his supporters do nothing to protect the people.” She tilted her head to the side. “That’s the first time you’ve even seemed curious about what has happened in Edenrich.”

Josiah looked away.

“So tell me, my ‘little cousin,’ how is it that I find you with two young, comely women and a beaten and abused man?”

He turned back to look at her, his mouth open but without any words to explain. It was the glint of humor in her eye that saved him. Josiah relaxed. “‘Little’ cousin? You have only a year on me, Evie.”

Evie looked up into his eyes and gave him her rare impish grin. “To think I towered over you when we were smaller.”

Josiah sighed. “That was a long time ago, Evie.”

Her eyes softened, and she reached out her hand to cup his cheek. She raised an eyebrow, silently repeating her question.

He shrugged, and looked at her feet. “It’s a long story, Evie.”

She puffed out a breath and lowered her hand. “To be certain. And it would be, when you know that I must not be late for services.” She lifted the lantern, and walked past him toward the shrine. “But I will want the full tale later, when I return.”

He watched as she walked within the shrine, and noted that the shadows moved as she placed the lantern on the floor. He retreated down the path.

The goats bleated as they came to stand around him.

“She’s gone,” Josiah said softly, “but she will be back.”

They walked down together, and entered the ruins. The area was empty, except for the lantern on the floor.

Josiah lifted the lantern. But before he turned to leave, the light caught the stylized sun on the back wall, and it refracted the light all about, banishing the shadows around him.

RED met him at the door of the hut. Josiah suspected that she waited for him. “Well,” she demanded, “did it work?”

He pushed open the door.

Bethral was half-seated on the bed, her arm around the slave’s shoulders, supporting his head, a mug in her other hand. Her smile was bright as she looked at them. “He swallowed.”

Red stepped in behind Josiah. “He doesn’t look any better,” she said. “Those wounds are still open.”

“Evie said the magic went deep within, where it was needed most,” Josiah explained.

Bethral nodded. “I’m to get as much liquid in him as I can. She wants him to void his bladder.”

“And soil the bed, no doubt.” Red wrinkled her nose. “I’d have thought she’d have done more.”

“There are limits,” Josiah growled. “She will be back later today. I suggest we eat, and take turns seeing to him.”

“We should sleep as well,” Red pointed out. “We’re all tired. We can take watches and share in the burden. There still might be pursuit. I’ll watch first.”

“Bethral, get some sleep, I’ll sit with him for a while.” Josiah offered.

Bethral smiled and nodded. She stood and stretched. “I’ll curl up here, on my bedroll. In case you need me.”

“Won’t that be cozy?” Red snorted, and made for the door. “Guess I’d better go fill in that grave, then.”

Her words were harsh, but Josiah didn’t miss the obvious relief in her eyes just before she closed the door.

“WHY did I let you talk me into this, Evelyn?”

Red’s lips narrowed as she watched Evie lead a blindfolded man out of the ruined shrine. Josiah had told her to wait here for her, and that she would be bringing help. But Red didn’t like the man’s looks, or his tone of voice. He was tall, towering over Evie, with long black hair that flowed down his back. He was dressed as a priest of Palins, but his voice was—

“We are only supposed to heal with the approval of the Church.” The man spoke again as he stumbled on the doorsill. “Are you even being paid?”

Whiny. Definitely whiny.

Evie reached out to steady the man, and took his arm. “Dominic, you know they can’t all afford to pay.”

The man recovered his balance and looked damned arrogant while he was doing it. Red curled her lip.

“Some commoner, then,” Dominic sniffed as Evie drew him down the path. “Really, Evelyn, you go off to the worst hovel at the first suggestion of a need. All some lowlife has to do is snivel that he is ill, and off you go, no questions asked, no permissions granted.”

Evie looked apologetically at Red as they neared. “Dominic, you know that is not—”

“Who is there?” Dominic stiffened, sensing Red’s presence.

“A lowlife,” Red spat. “With a blade.”

Dominic reached for his blindfold, but Evie stayed his hand. “Stop that,” she scolded. “It’s your own fault for being rude. She isn’t going to hurt you.”

Red snorted.

Dominic snorted right back. “It is not rude to speak the truth. You may be one of Evelyn’s lost lambs, but you should respect her office. One of the lesser priests, or a lay healer with herbs and ointments, would certainly serve your needs. Certainly not the most powerful priestess in the—”

“Dominic!” Evie tugged on his arm, and got him moving.

Red followed. The man continued his chiding as they reached the croft. His personality did not improve with his speech, as far as Red was concerned. He cursed every root and rock on the path, as if it was a personal affront.

Evie pushed the door open, and Red followed right behind the man. She wasn’t leaving him alone with Bethral and their “lost lamb” for a minute. She crowded in behind, and shut the door firmly.

Dominic was tall enough that the dried herbs brushed his face. “What—”

“You can take off the blindfold now,” Evie said. She reached up to remove it for Dominic, at the same time he reached up. Their hands met briefly, and Red saw that Dominic’s hand lingered on Evie’s for a moment longer than necessary.

Then Dominic got a good look at his surroundings. “Oh, for the love of the Sun!” He gave Bethral a disdainful glance and then looked down at the bed. “Evelyn, what are you thinking? A slave?”

“How do you know that?” Bethral asked, her hand on her sword hilt.

“Please,” Dominic glared at her. “Those wounds were caused by manacles, and those are clearly whip marks. Any fool can see that this man is a slave.”

“Dominic”—Evie placed her hand on his arm—“this man is suffering and needs our help. His tongue has been cut out.”

“Really?” That seemed to give Dominic pause. He reached out with long, delicate fingers and touched the man’s chin, turning his face toward the light. He frowned slightly, and Red saw something pass over his face.

“What is it?” she asked.

“He seems familiar,” Dominic answered slowly. “What color are his eyes?”

“Brown,” Bethral answered. “He’s opened them only once.”

Dominic pulled his hand back quickly. “Not the man I thought.” He looked at Evie impatiently.

“I suppose you are determined to do this.”

She smiled at him gently. “I am.”

Dominic slowly smiled back at her, and shook his head. “Well, then, we will see it done.” His black hair shifted, and the tips of his ears were visible.

“You’re an elf,” Red blurted out.

“Half-elven.” Dominic gave her a disdainful look, sweeping her from head to toe. “Not that it is any business of yours. We need some room for our task. Do you mind leaving?”

“Actually, I do.” Red replied. But she did press herself back against the door, giving them more room.

Evie knelt by the bedside and spread her hands over the slave. Dominic took one look at the rough planking, curled his lip, and moved to stand at her side. He placed one hand on Evie’s shoulder and extended his other hand, spreading those thin fingers wide.

They both began to pray, their voices low. “Hail, gracious Lord of the Sun and Sky, Giver of Light and Grantor of Health, we ask….”

Red’s stomach flipped as their hands began to glow. In her experience, gods were beings best left to their own devices. Beseeching aid was rarely done in Soccia, and was not without its consequences.

The voices continued, and the glow began to drift down from their hands, encasing the slave in light. Bethral was intent on the man on the bed, watching him like a hawk, probably for signs that the magic was working. But Red couldn’t see any evidence that it was, and certain sure the slave never once reacted with so much as a twitch.

They began to repeat the prayer, and Red took to counting her breaths. There was no change in their voices, but the outstretched hands were starting to tremble.

Finally, Evie’s shoulders slumped slightly. Dominic’s voice grew stronger, and the words of the prayer changed, thanking for aid instead of begging.

The glow faded. Dominic dropped his hand and drew a deep breath. He squeezed Evie’s shoulder, and she looked up with a tired smile. His sharp features softened as he gazed down at her and offered his hand. “Well enough, Lady High Priestess?”

“Very well.” She chuckled as she accepted his help to get to her feet.

“Then let us return.” Dominic picked up the blindfold from the rough table, and shook it out.

“I’ll need to bathe and sleep before I can preside over the sunset service.” He handed the blindfold to Evie.

“I’ll see you back,” Evie said gently. “But I’ve some advice to give before I go, and I want to read my patient and see what the magic has done.”

Dominic grimaced, then shrugged. He lowered his head so that she could wrap the blindfold about his eyes. “As you see fit. But do not waste too much of your strength here.”

Red fumed silently as Evie wrapped the cloth tight, and tied it. A better fit around the man’s neck, and twice as tight would work just fine, as far as she was concerned. But she said nothing.

She just stepped clear of the door, jostled Dominic hard in her effort to pull the door open, and then silently followed them to the shrine.

Dominic complained the entire way, even as he held on to Evie and leaned against her for support. Red didn’t stop at the designated spot; she followed them right up to the doorway. Evie shook her head, but didn’t object. She just led Dominic to face the back wall.

“Make sure you are in good time for the service,” Dominic scolded.

Evie gestured at the wall and spoke three sharp words. Red watched in amazement as the wall shimmered before them, like a series of long white curtains moving in a breeze. There was a sound as well, of wind chimes, or maybe a waterfall.