Healer's Touch (21 page)

“No. But there weren’t nothin’ to smash I wouldn’t feel guilty about later.”

“That tree took a hammering,” said Llew, sitting on the edge of her bed and pulling on her shoes.

“Don’t you start.”

“Get up. You’ve got work to do.” Aris slapped Jonas’ bedding, getting an exaggerated “Oof!” out of its inhabitant.

Cassidy and Alvaro were drowsily stirring from their sleep, looking not a whole lot better than Jonas. Nor did Llew feel energised. She wanted more sleep. She wanted to sleep in her little hovel by the bank of Cheer’s Big River where she was rarely bothered by anyone, didn’t have the guilt of having killed anyone, and only had to worry about catching enough fish for dinner.

Jonas swivelled out of his bed, sitting on the edge in just his long-johns, and started rubbing his hands over his face. The scratching of skin brushing across his whiskers reached her ears and she shuddered. It was an odd noise, all at once both irritating and oddly stimulating. She both loved the manliness of it and swallowed her revulsion at memories of faces and bodies too close and too strong.

Hands still covering his face, Jonas peered between his fingers at Llew.

“Oh, shit.” His eyes grew wide. “What did I say yesterday? No, don’t tell me.” He closed his eyes and began massaging his temples. “Whatever it was, I didn’t mean it.”

“I’d be more worried about what you did to the poor tree.”

Jonas stood up, pulling his trousers on. He looked down at her as he buckled his belt, his lips drawn thin and firm.

“It’s alright. You didn’t offend me none,” she said.

He kept looking at her as he pulled on and buttoned his shirt, and she suspected that he did remember some of the things he had said.

“That’s good. I–” He looked away to gather his vest full of knives, and ran one hand down the length of his face, again making the rasping sound that excited and repulsed all at once. “I wouldn’t want to offend you.”

He left the room to do his duty in the stable, leaving Llew to stare at the slowly closing door. He might not have wanted to offend her, but had he wanted to say all that he’d said? She doubted it. And what hadn’t he meant – that he would just as happily kill her as have her cause more damage, or that he thought she was pretty? She knew which was easier to believe; no one had called her pretty since before her teen years. They’d said
You’re a girl and I’m a boy, and you’re here and I’m here, let’s do this thing,
never
I think you’re pretty
 . . . They said
that
to girls like Anya. It had been nice to hear, but it was time to brush it aside. They had another long day ahead of them and the gods only knew what trouble lay in wait or followed close behind.

“What
did
he say to you yesterday, Llew?” Alvaro asked, still in his blankets.

“Nothing you need concern yourself with.” She left the room, heading downstairs for a fresh, cooked breakfast of eggs and bacon.

Jonas looked a bit green when he came back inside to see them all eating, but he joined them and, after a few tentative pickings, was soon looking much brighter, going on to eat a decent feed. Breakfast was quiet, and Llew wondered what each of them was thinking. They’d been too busy dealing with Jonas’ reaction to the news of the dead girl to discuss it as a group and still no one dared bring it up. She hadn’t given herself the space to think about it, being too caught up in Jonas’ emotions and comments regarding her appeal.

She hated herself for that. A child was dead, essentially at Llew’s hands, and all she could think about was that Jonas had said she was pretty.

***

The morose feeling continued throughout the morning’s ride. There had been no further sign of Braph, but Aris was convinced he wasn’t far behind them. Neither he nor Jonas knew why Braph was holding back from further attempts to capture Llew, and they could only speculate that Jonas’ Syakaran power was enough of a threat to make him hesitate. But hesitation wasn’t abandonment.

“Hey, Llew.” Anya said, as she refilled her canteen from a stream at lunch time. Llew acknowledged the other girl with a nod and Anya heaved a sigh. “I can’t wait for this trip to be over,” she went on, pulling off her shoes and stretching her toes. “I mean, I love seeing Aghacia, I really do, but I can’t wait to see Rakun. And meet Gaemil.”

“You’re marrying a man you’ve never met?”

“We’ve been writing to each other for over a year, now. So I know him pretty well.”

Llew found it hard enough to like men she knew, how could Anya love someone she’d never met? “Have you seen his likeness?”

“No. But what does that matter? He’s lovely, Llew. He’s the Earl of Rakun, and he tells me all the trials and tribulations of managing an entire region. The lands he commands cover the middle third of all of Rakun – in other words, they’re huge.” She smiled. “He truly loves Rakun and its settlements, and is always striving to do more for his people, ensuring they have food to eat, roofs over their heads, and enough work for everyone. Do you know, Rakun has the largest number of civil celebrations of any city in the New World? Gaemil’s grandfather started the work towards that. Rakun, and its wider region, is the most productive region in Brurun. He has a real passion for people, Llew. He says he loves to see them strive, and he loves to see them rewarded.” Anya’s eyes sparkled. “It seems a rare gift.”

“Has he seen a picture of you?”

“Of course. And he liked what he saw.”

“And you’ve never even been tempted . . . ” Llew looked over her shoulder, paying particular attention to Cassidy, who was finishing off his lunch. Cassidy, who liked what he saw when he looked at Anya, but knew he couldn’t have her and just accepted the fact. It seemed unfair to Llew. She used to believe it was all about love, when she was much younger. She had little doubt her father had loved her mother – and it had driven him to ruin. Perhaps this marrying for other reasons wasn’t so bad.

Anya laughed, following Llew’s gaze. “Of course I find Alvaro and Cassidy attractive. Just look at them. But there is more to a man than how he looks. What about Jonas? He’s covered in scars, and that black tattoo!” She spoke with distaste. “On top of that he’s angry all the time. But you still like him.” Llew felt her cheeks colour and Anya beamed. “Love is a many-pronged star. Its light hits each of us from a different angle, but it all comes from the same place. It’s still love. How did you like wearing the dress?” She changed topic without drawing breath.

Llew was caught off guard, her thoughts flying from a desire to defend Jonas’ appearance to denying being in love with him; she liked him well enough, but love was something other people felt, and received in return.

“Uh, it was nice?”

“You looked lovely.” Suddenly Anya looked stricken. “Not that you don’t always look lovely, just–” She caught herself. “I wouldn’t mind wearing more practical clothes myself, at times. But I do love a pair of pretty shoes.” She pulled her plain shoes back on. “Gaemil has promised me a pair of shoes for each day of the year. Isn’t that lovely?” She beamed and, without awaiting a reply, got up to return to the carriage.

They were in the heart of the Aghacian plains now. Flat, grassland spread out for miles in all directions. The Aghacian Alps looked close enough to reach within a few hours, but in reality were two long days’ ride away. The air was crisp and clear and the chill swooped straight down off the mountains, across the plains, and whipped around the riders and their horses, and they rode with jackets firmly buttoned.

“What happens to me if I go back to Quaver with you?” Llew asked Aris across their camp fire as they ate a meal of jerky and bread that night. A couple of nights of indulgence did little to improve the meal’s appeal, but they’d stopped too late for Llew to fish.

“We’d keep you safe, of course.”

“How?”

Aris looked taken aback for a moment, then pondered his answer. “Well, I suppose we’d have to keep you in custody.”

“Custody. Like a gaol?”

“No. Not a gaol. Maybe at an army fort, but not . . . not a gaol.”

“So, Quaver wants me to ‘keep me safe’, and Braph wants me for my blood. What does Turhmos want me for? To fight for their army?” Jonas choked on a laugh and Llew glared at him. “I can fight.”

“You throw a letter opener mighty fine. But there’s a difference between a back-road scuffle and a battlefield.”

“What do they want with me, if not to fight?” She turned back to Aris.

“They want your sons,” said Aris.

“My– But I don’t . . . 
ew
!” Llew had never taken the time to consider having children, but the thought now thrust itself into her brain. She didn’t like it. Especially not in an unknown country under some sort of marital arrangement. Or martial, for that matter.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Jonas cracked a small smile.

“I don’t know what you’re laughing at. It’s not like Aris’ plans for you are any different. Sorry, Aris, but they’re not.” The thought had been bothering her since Osurnu when Aris had confirmed his desire to find Jonas a Syakaran wife. “How did Jonas meet his wife?”

“Don’t you talk about her!” Jonas sprung to his feet, but Aris grabbed his wrist. He was breathing heavily, and in the darkness Llew could not make out his expression.

“I think that’s enough.” Emylia spoke quietly.

“Sit down, Jonas,” Aris said.

“I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Well, let’s get some sleep, then. I’d like to get on the road early,” Aris said, standing up. The others followed suit. “One thing we do want to do is get some distance between us and that mess back there.”

* * *

“What was her name?”

Llew walked up behind Jonas as he laid out his bedroll before taking his turn on watch. He paused, but didn’t stand or look up at her. She was left looking down at his back, the moon’s silver glow sliding over the leather knife-vest.

“I’m sorry. But it upset me to think you might not have had a choice–”

In a second he was up and in her face. “I
loved
my wife.
That
was a choice, and I made it
every
day.”

“Okay.”

“Let her alone.”

Llew hadn’t heard Alvaro approach. Jonas pushed past her to take his post.

“You alright, Llew?” Alvaro squeezed her shoulder.

“He didn’t do anything.”

“It was a fair question, Llew. He didn’t need to jump down your throat like that.”

“Yes, he did.” She stepped free of his grip to fling out her own bedroll.

“It wasn’t just her,” Alvaro said. “And it didn’t stop when he was married, either. She knew. Everyone knows.”

Llew spun round to face him, brows drawn in and her lips pressed tight.

Keeping his voice low so only Llew could hear him, Alvaro continued. “You think Aris would waste his chance of greater numbers of Syakara in the future on one Syakaran woman? Every one of Jonas’ children is Karan at the least, with the small chance that some of ’em might be just like him.”

Children
. Llew swallowed. Her mouth was dry. Aris and Jonas had been denouncing Turhmos for its Aenuk breeding programs while they were off practicing the same. It shouldn’t have mattered. He was just a man. He was never going to be around forever anyway. It shouldn’t matter.

“Well, good for them. It’s nice to have a purpose in life.” She pushed past him. She should have been climbing into her bedroll, but she couldn’t with him standing there, waiting for her to cry into his shoulder. She treated her horse to a well-deserved massage instead.

Later, Llew lay on her back, fingers linked behind her head, staring up at the black sky with its millions of silver sparks. The night was freezing again. On top of whatever was going on with Jonas, she had a lot of thinking to do. She had died several times in the last couple of weeks. It was odd to think on it so calmly, but she had to. She was Syaenuk. She could heal. But she could also kill. That was the part she didn’t like, especially as she had no control over it. What if next time she killed someone she loved? What if she killed Jonas? He was the closest she’d had to a real friend since Kynas, even if he was tempted to kill her any time she put a foot wrong. Then again, Kynas had sent her to the hangman . . . What if she killed Anya? Perhaps she
should
ask Jonas to stick his knife in her – it would be better for everyone. But she had dreams of a future. She wanted to live. She wanted to make a regular living, live among regular people, live a regular life.

She looked over at Jonas’ empty bedroll. So, he’d been cheating on his wife while still proclaiming to love her. It was, as Aris would no doubt argue, for the greater good, since Quaver needed soldiers like Jonas when Turhmos fought with soldiers like Llew.

Frustration drove her from her bedroll and she went to find Jonas, fully prepared for him to not want to talk to her, but needing the company.

She stepped through and around damp ferns. Tree roots broke the ground, providing unsteady footing, and here and there were scattered rocks of various sizes, mostly grey and pock-marked, some black and shiny. Just as her pa had taught her, the vast majority of the rocks littering the Aghacian country-side were of volcanic origin, most likely from the mountains that formed the back-bone of the country. So what if he hadn’t been much of one for talking about people. In Llew’s experience, people weren’t as reliable as geology. And fish. You could count on fish.