Rohvim #1: Metal and Flesh (23 page)

Chapter Fourteen

“Dost thou deserve my love? Does my fork claim to nurture my body or my spoon give sustenance to my soul? I say to you, my children whom I love, you are but instruments of the Creator, and the tools in His hands, and though thy works of goodness be great, you are my children, whom I love…” —Wisdom of Rutha, 12:13

They awoke just before sunrise and began their march immediately. “We must reach Lofgren this morning so as to avail ourselves of any assistance the lord might lend, before we head out tomorrow,” the master healer announced. They descended the hill and after half an hour the forest became less dense. A trail snaked down out of the hills, and they followed it until their way flattened out as the trees gave way to open plain. Off in the distance they could see a few lone houses surrounded by farmland, and beyond that, a small town at the foot of a far hill. It took them about two hours to cross the vast, windswept fields and reach the town.

They entered Lofgren, a small hamlet nestled at the bottom of a large hill that blocked the early morning sun. A light mist hung in the air in the surrounding fields, obscuring the view of some of the more distant cottages and farms, while others were seen nestled in green pastures dotted with grazing cattle and lambs. The small group crossed the final field that lay between them and the outskirts of the small town, wetting their feet with the fine carpet of dew crowning the heads of the blades of grass.

They began passing houses near the edge of the town which was still largely asleep, and made their way to the estate of the local lord. Occasionally, someone outside of their house would catch a glimpse of the travelers and, seeing the master healer—who had come much into these parts, would shout in to their wives or husbands or parents that the healer was in town, or would call over to the old man and beg him to come give respite to a loved one. The master healer told them all to come see him later in the day at the lord’s estate, where he was customarily granted a space to practice his art during his visits to the town.

They made their way up the dirt streets, climbing gradually higher and higher, until they came to a larger, but still rather shabby looking house. It was the only two storied building in the town, and was surrounded by several outbuildings, all contained within a fence of iron bars, guarded by a lone swordsman, who yawned as they approached him.

“Greetings, sir. I trust we did not wake you?” The master healer approached the armed man with his outstretched hand. The guard clasped it in his.

“No, healer. But it has been a long night. Please enter. The lord has knowledge of your coming and awaits you.” And with that the man opened the gate, and stood aside to allow the travelers access. They passed the gate and crossed the wide lawn, choked with weeds and thistle. Behind the house, a field of grapevines lay in a tangle, with tools and implements cast about haphazardly. They approached the door, which opened to reveal a hard faced man, who glared at the healer as he walked up with arms outstretched.

“Ah. Our healer has come back to us at last. Tell me, sir, how fare the lands to the south? I assume they are good to you to explain your long absence from us? Do the fine lords and ladies of the capital pay you handsomely for your services?” he sneered, and his arms remained to his side, though the healer’s were still outstretched in greeting.

“My lord. I indeed have been in the southward lands, and I come to warn you of an impending danger. All my days thus far have been spent as a harbinger of peace and healing, but it pains me now to report that the kingdom is under siege from some unknown danger to the north.”

At this, the old lord’s eyes narrowed, and he said in a more serious tone, “Siege? Is it coming here? Why have I not heard of this yet?”

“I know not. I only know that it has overcome the towns of Fairshore, Moorview, and even the great city of Elbeth—from which some of my companions hail from.” He nodded to the group behind him.

“This disturbs me greatly.” The lord looked out to the fields beyond the town. “My scouts have informed me of a contant stream of people heading north through the lands to the east of here, and yet they appeared to be from our own kingdom, so we thought nothing of it. I wonder now if they are refugees.” He focused back on the master healer. “What is your business here?”

“We are passing through your lands, also on our way northward, to discover the source of this great evil, and with Creator’s grace perhaps put an end to it, though we stop here now for rest and to provide healing and succor to your people. Should you desire it, of course.” The old man added, seeing the dark look that crossed the lord’s face.

“But four months late you are, healer.” He stopped, clenching his teeth. He closed his eyes and went on, “Four months too late. She’s dead. My wife is dead.” He opened his eyes, staring straight through the master healer. “And where were you? You knew she had ill health when you left here. I sent you messengers urging you to return, but I heard only silence in return. I …” The man stopped. His eyes flashed with anger, and simultaneously filled with tears.

“My lord. I’m ….” The healer paused, searching for words. “I’m sorry. I did not know she would succumb so quickly. I’ve been in the south trying to avert further … but no, I have no excuse. I’m sorry, I should have returned earlier.” The old man bowed low before the disheveled lord, who looked down at him, rage still in his eyes. He took a deep breath.

“You may use the house at the far end of the estate as you customarily have for your work. Other than that, I have nothing for you.” And with that he firmly closed the door in their faces.

The group waited for the healer to speak. He did not, but stood there, facing the door, silent. After a minute, Betha approached him and put her hand on his shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault, master. What could you have done?”

The man sighed, “No, it was not my fault. But it is a tragedy nonetheless.” He patted the hand on his shoulder, and led the way to a smaller, shabbier house on the north side of the estate, where he found the door unlocked, and ready to be made into a temporary healer’s dwelling as he often had before. He said to the others, “Get some sleep. Later today we may restock our provisions in town, and we will doubtless be needed for some healing before the day is out.” The old man entered a small side office and gently closed the door.

They all found space on the floor and slept a few hours. Early in the afternoon, Aeden awoke, and troubled, went to the small office and quietly opened the door. “Master?” he whispered.

“Come in, Aeden.”

He entered the small room and shut the door behind him. “Master, why could you not completely heal the lord’s wife? He said she was in failing health when you left, but why not just heal her?”

The old man gently replied, “We are not miracle workers, Aeden. We know what we are, and with that knowledge we can help the body heal, but we are not the Creator, we can’t cure all maladies and heal all wounds.”

“I see. But if you could do nothing, why is the lord so mad at you? You did everything you could, right? You probably even extended her life.”

The healer nodded. “I did. By many years, in fact.”

“Then why is he mad?”

“Aeden,” the master healer looked up into the young man’s eyes, “his wife is dead.”

“But you helped her.”

“Yes, I did. But the woman he loved for close to seventy years was taken from him early. She’s dead, and she’s not coming back. He is angry at his loss, and everyone associated with it, and has every right to be. Humans are not rational beings, my boy, and I hold no grudge against him for blaming me. I mourn with him.”

Aeden’s voice elevated, “But we’re not human, master. If we are just bigger versions of that mechanical toy in your pack, why all the anger and sadness and hate for things we didn’t even do?”

“We are human, Aeden. If that’s the only thing I can teach you before I die, get it into your head.” The man speared a finger straight into Aeden’s forehead, who winced. “We are rohvim. We are human. And one reason I’ve brought us here instead of keeping completely to the wilderness on our journey northward is to give my students some much needed lessons. I am going to teach you now how to heal.” The master, raising the hand that had poked Aeden in the forehead, placed it now on his crown.
Please come into my mind, Aeden.

Aeden touched the old man’s balding scalp, concentrated on the old man’s head, and pushed himself in. All went dark, except for the younger version of the healer, and the man’s mind lay out on a wall in front of him.

Here is my mind, like I showed you before. Come over here.
He led Aeden to a section of the wall with many strange looking shapes: knobs and buttons and lights and needles pointing to strange characters.

This is the section of my mind that controls my body. It starts somewhere over there,
he pointed to a spot about six feet to his left,
and ends somewhere over there,
pointing to a spot about twenty feet to his right.

That’s big.

Yes it is. The interaction between our physical brains, the metal if you will, with our minds and our bodies is something we don’t understand. We do, however, understand how to read parts of this wall that will tell us that something is wrong, and how to fix it. Mostly. Obviously, with the lord’s wife, there were problems I saw in her mind that were beyond my knowledge to rectify.

He walked a bit to his right.
This section deals with the body’s ability to breath.
He continued to his right.
The section next to it controls the body’s mechanism for flowing blood.
He continued walking, explaining the various sections of the wall that he understood, explaining how certain colors indicated certain conditions, how the various needles were pointing to numbers and that some numbers on certain needles tended to be bad, while other numbers were good. He stopped at a certain section.
This one deals with the brain itself. It’s the one we understand least of all the body’s functions. What we do know is that you can control it, and in a sense is the easiest one to control. All you have to do is put your hand on it, and will yourself in control of the subject’s body. You can then make them walk, talk, dance, sing, whatever you want—you’re in control.

That’s a little scary.

Scary indeed. That is how I suspect our adversary is controlling his armies.

But how does he control many at once?

A rohva is able to make a rudimentary copy of himself in the mind of another rohva. That copy can then remain in the afflicted rohva’s head indefinitely, and with its hand on the rohva’s mind, can control him indefinitely. So the way to tell if someone is being controlled is to enter their mind, and look here to see if there is anyone else present. If there is, they are likely under the control of another rohva.

If you see someone, how do you stop them? How do you set the person free?

The young master healer grinned,
I believe our own Rupert has taught you that part, if I’m not mistaken.

You duel them?

Yes. Though a rohva duel between a living rohva mind and the hollow copy of another is really no duel at all. The copy does not have the mental power to compete much—at least that has been my limited experience. Just destroy the head and they disappear.

Does the copy communicate with the original?

No. Not unless the original comes back to the victim and gets a full report, no.

Have you come across many controlled rohvim?

Besides the occupying army? No. And the reason the copies are so easy to defeat in duel here in the mind is the same reason the controlled soldiers are somewhat easier to fight than a person in full control of their faculties. It is only a copy of a person that controls them and not the actual person.
He paused,
There is one exception, though. If I were to enter your mind and quickly place a copy of myself to control you, you would be as any other soldier in the occupying army. If, however, I were to take my time with making my copy, I mean really take my time and put all of my intelligence, knowledge and feeling into it, it would not just be any old copy. It could have strategy. It could think independently for itself. It would be much harder to defeat in rohva duel here in the mind, and in real life. And it would be much harder to tell if the person was controlled just by interacting with them.

Aeden nodded.
I understand.

Good. Now, let me show you a few things about actual healing. It’s all about first looking at their bodies in real life to get a sense of where the problem might be in here on the wall, and then knowing how to recognize and fix problems on the wall itself. For example, …

The healer proceeded to teach a lengthy lesson on the finer points of rohva healing which seemed to Aeden to take hours and hours, but of course by the time he exited the healer’s mind, appeared to have taken less than five minutes. The healer opened his eyes and removed his hand, “Please join me later as the people begin arriving to be healed.”