Through Wolf's Eyes (45 page)

L
ATE THAT AFTERNOON
,
when Derian was grooming Roanne and coaching Firekeeper as she sparred
with Ox, Doc came into their camp. Like Race, Sir Jared had taken a
temporary commission, but his was with the medical corps. His uniform
was the brilliant scarlet that served both to mark him out as a medic
and to hide the gorier side effects of his calling.

Unlike Race, Doc didn't wear the Kestrel badge, but
the one granted to him when he received his knighthood: a hand palm
upraised and impaled with several arrows. Beneath that was pinned a
brooch in the shape of an eagle outlined in scarlet enamel, the wing
feathers worked in silver, the beak and talons in gold, and the eyes
perfectly faceted diamonds.

Doc slipped Roanne a piece of carrot, then said to
Derian in a hushed voice, "I'd like to speak with you privately when
you're done."

"I'll meet you there," Derian tossed his head to
indicate a hillock about equidistant between their camp and a copse of
trees that skirted the field, "as soon as I have this done."

Curiosity made Derian finish more quickly than he
should and by way of an apology he gave the chestnut mare another chunk
of carrot. Seizing a water bottle, he ambled to where Doc leaned
against a slender tree trunk.

"What's up?" he asked, sitting beside the other man. "You look grim."

"Do you know Hope well?" was Doc's answer. "I haven't been here for some years."

"Pretty well," Derian replied. "I haven't been here
for about a year, but I've come the last several with my father. You
can get some good deals on stock this time of year from folk who don't
want to feed them over the winter."

"Legally owned?" Doc asked, curious despite his evident preoccupation.

"Not all," Derian admitted, "but quite a few are.
There are wild horses in the plains to the southwest. Some cross into
Hawk Haven, but the best herds are found in Bright Bay. Import is
legal, but elsewhere you pay a fee at the border. Here . . ."

Doc nodded. "I see. Well, I need your help. The Surgeon
General and the king's personal physician have asked me to purchase something for them."

He hesitated and Derian said quickly, "I won't say a word to anyone, not even Firekeeper if you don't want me to."

"I'll take your word on that," the knight said, and Derian felt his heart swell with pride.

"Go on," he said, a bit more gruffly than he had intended.

"The king," Doc said, still hesitant, "is not a young man and this journey has not been easy for him."

Derian decided to help him along. "Lady Elise told
Fire-keeper and me—she didn't want to talk about it with her aunts,
they having their own agendas—that she was worried. She said King
Tedric looked grey and tired."

"Lady Elise," Doc said, a glow banishing his worried
expression for a moment, "has good eyes for this. She has studied some
of what I've been teaching Firekeeper, saying that if there
is
trouble, ancestors forfend, she wants to be able to do more than hide in the fortress."

The glow vanished as Doc went back to his immediate concern.

"King Tedric's heart is not strong," he said, as if
admitting to treason, "not diseased, simply tired. As long as he took
limited, healthful exercise and rested well it did not trouble him.
However, both have been denied to him.

"There is a tonic that has been helping him.
Unhappily, the king's physician did not anticipate so great a need and
he has nearly exhausted his supply. Some of the ingredients are rare
and not of the type the Surgeon General would stock in quantity for the
field hospital."

"So they want you to buy some," Derian prompted.

"Yes." Jared smiled. "In short, I need to find an
apothecary who will not gossip, preferably one who is loyal to Hawk
Haven. Can you help me?"

Derian considered. "What are the ingredients you need?"

After Jared had told him, Derian smiled
encouragingly. "Some of those are used for horses as well as people. We
can buy those from a farrier I know and none the wiser. The last few .
. . Yes, I think I know the person to deal with. My father buys
fragrances from her for my mother."

"Fragrances?" Doc said dubiously.

"Don't worry," Derian assured him. "Hazel's a healer
as well. Perfumes are her hobby. My father swears her attar of roses is
superior to anything you can get in Eagle's Nest."

Doc nodded. "Very good. Now, remember, not a word of this to anyone."

"I promise." Derian's eyes sparkled. "If any of the
others ask me what we were talking about, I'll say you wanted my advice
on the best way to court a girl."

To his great amusement, Sir Jared Surcliffe colored nearly as deep a red as his uniform.

They left camp that evening as dusk was falling.
Derian had made a quick trip into the town and assured himself that
both farrier and apothecary were going to be open that evening.

"Extended hours," he told Doc as they walked into
town that evening, both of them dressed casually as if joining the men
on leave. "Who would miss a chance to do business tonight with all
these soldiers with money to spend and only one night to spend it?"

"I'd forgotten that not all of them would go to taverns and brothels," Doc confessed.

"Nope," Derian said cheerfully, caught up in the
general air of festivity despite his awareness of the importance of
their mission. "Many will end up there, but some simply want a decent
meal or to augment their kits. Others will be shopping for gifts to
send to the family back home. Smuggling being what it is here, this is
the perfect place to find something exotic and wonderful."

When the two men reached the town proper, they had to
thread their way through streets crowded with exultant soldiers. It was
too early for many to be very drunk, but they passed at least one
brawl: two men, slugging at each other with such narrow focused
concentration that they hadn't noticed that the whore who was the
reason for their dispute had left with another man.

"I'm glad," Doc said, "that Firekeeper agreed to remain behind."

Derian laughed. "I think I solved that one rather neatly. I
took
her with me this afternoon. She was horrified by the crowding and
stench. When I told her it would be worse tonight, she was happy to
stay away."

As they moved along, several times they encountered
former patients who offered to buy Sir Jared and his friend a drink.
Other soldiers, often those with whom Derian had raced horses or thrown
dice of an evening, called out to the pair to join them.

"We'd better accept some of their invitations," Derian advised, "unless you want to look like you're on duty."

Doc agreed somewhat reluctantly, but Derian kept an eye on the flow of traffic and made their excuses.

"I've got to stop by a farrier and pass on some
information for my family business," he said. "Coming, Doc? This fellow
has some fine horses, better than the one you're riding."

Doc shrugged. "I guess so. Just remember, my commission doesn't cover a private mount."

They made their exit neatly and Doc gave Derian an admiring punch on the shoulder.

"Nicely done, young man. Cover story as well as an excuse to leave."

"At your service, Sir Jared," Derian laughed.

"What excuse do you have in mind for our trip to the apothecary?" Jared asked with a grin.

"Perfume, of course," Derian replied lightly, "for that girl you were asking me about."

This time he decided not to ignore Jared's blush.

"Dare I guess who is on your mind?" he asked. "It won't go any further."

"Please don't let it," Jared begged. "I've tried hard to hide my feelings, but she is betrothed."

Elise's name hardly needed to be spoken.

"A political arrangement," Derian said firmly.

"One she asked for," Jared countered, "if rumor is correct."

"One she may regret, if I read her right. Jet is not
all Elise imagined him to be. I think she has learned more about him
over the past moon-span, especially since she has been traveling in
this company."

Derian hesitated, wondering how much he should say.
Ninette, Elise's maid, was one of the few women in this entourage who
was not in uniform, above his station, or a prostitute. Although
Ninette was not really his type, Derian enjoyed female company and had
found himself drifting into visiting with her. Teasing and flirtation
had progressed into something like confidences, offered since Ninette
shrewdly recognized Derian's sincere liking for her mistress.

Jared remained somberly unconvinced and so Derian
went on, "Jet frequently seeks Elise's company when the day's travel is
over. Lately, I've noticed that she finds reasons for them to visit in
public."

"She is a lady," Jared protested indignantly, "not some tart!"

"She is a young woman," Derian persisted steadily,
"and a woman's blood can run as hot as a man's with no fault to her but
that she risks a child and a man does not. Ninette tells me that Elise
was not always so chary of time alone with Jet."

Jared colored, clearly torn between indignation at
the thought that his ideal could be vulnerable to passion, and hope
that she indeed did not favor her betrothed.

"She . . ." He stopped, unable to go on.

"You told me once you were married," Derian said. "An arranged marriage to a girl you had known from childhood."

"Yes." Doc's monosyllable was guarded.

"And are you telling me that you and your betrothed
never touched before the wedding? No kissing games? No little trial
runs, a blouse opened maybe, a hand guided to touch?"

The light was too dim for Derian to be certain, but
he felt sure Doc was blushing again. Shining Horse Hooves! He himself
had played the same games and more, and he could feel his own color
rising. It must be that talking about a thing was more embarrassing
than actually doing it.

"Don't fault Elise for having the same impulses,"
Derian continued, despite his embarrassment, "especially with a man she
has been smitten with since she was a girl. Take hope instead that she
no longer welcomes such games."

Doc said nothing, but in the flickering light from a freshly
lit streetlamp, Derian caught the hint of a smile.

"Here's the farrier," Derian said, glad to have an excuse to change the subject. "Come along and look at the horses."

Their stay lasted well over an hour, extended because
the farrier was busy with a group of cavalry women, each of whom was
replacing items from her kit, several of whom wanted to try the paces
of a horse or two. Knowing that Doc didn't want to draw attention to
himself, Derian chatted up one of the stablehands, tried out a horse or
two himself, and even convinced Doc to relax enough to examine a colt
with great potential.

Derian did indeed have business messages from his
father to the farrier and would have delivered them that afternoon but
for the opportunity this gave him to draw the farrier aside. Then he
asked to see the man's stock of horse medicines. Taking covert signals
from Doc, he investigated the wares and made his purchases.

Once they were out in the street with their packages,
Derian said, "You'll need to speak with the apothecary yourself. I know
something about these ointments, but nothing about the rest of the
stuff you mentioned."

"That won't be a problem," Doc replied. "With what
we've already purchased, she'll have a harder time guessing just why I
need what I do. Especially," he grinned at Derian, "when I add a small
order for attar of roses."

The apothecary's shop was set back from the street
behind a small herb garden that provided advertisement for her wares.
Climbing roses in red, white, and pale yellow covered the front of the
shop, still heavily in bloom despite the lateness of the season.

"Some say," Derian commented, as they passed through the gate, "that the apothecary's a sorceress."

Doc looked quite serious. "I wouldn't be at all surprised if she is talented. It is late for roses to be so heavily in bloom."

Despite Derian's own turns tending the family kitchen
garden, Derian had never considered the significance of late-blooming
roses. Without further words, he opened the shop door.

As elsewhere in the town, business was brisk, but
Hazel Healer herself recognized Derian as a regular customer and left
her assistants to handle the walk-in trade. A woman in her mid-fifties
with strong features that would never be called pretty, nonetheless,
her confidence and friendly smile made her handsome.

"Here's an old customer," she said. "Is Colby with you?"

"Not this time," Derian replied. "He's waiting to
make his trip until the upcoming negotiations are through. I'm here
with my new master, Earl Kestrel."

"As the wolf-girl's keeper." Hazel smiled. "Yes. I'd heard something of that. Come into my workroom and tell me more."

Derian could not have wished for better and he
motioned for Jared to follow him. Once they were in the workroom,
Derian made introductions.

"Mistress Hazel Healer," he said, "I would like to present my friend, Jared."

Doc had asked not to be introduced with his full name and titles, but here again gossip had gone before them.

"Sir Jared Surcliffe," Hazel replied, making a deep curtsy. "I am honored."

With a slight shrug for Derian, Doc returned her
greeting with a bow. "And I am to meet you. Derian has spoken well of
you and of your shop."

"Thank you, and don't look so surprised that I know
who you are. I'm from Eagle's Nest myself originally. Many members of
my family live and work at the castle. I have seen you there myself,
years ago."

"Would I know any of your family?" Jared asked politely.

"Unless you frequent the grounds, Sir Jared," she
said, "I doubt it. My cousin is Head Gardener now and, if the Green
Thumb passes on, one of his children will follow in turn."