Arrow’s Flight (19 page)

They galloped into the courtyard of the Healing Temple shortly after dusk. Her Whites and her Companion gave her instant attention; Rolan had not even halted when a green-clad novice Healer was at her stirrup to receive her orders. Immediately behind him came two more, one with hot wine with herbs in it for Taiia, the other with fresh, warm gruel for Rolan. Both of them consumed their portions with gratitude, while a messenger went to arouse the two Heralds posted to this Temple. Meanwhile another novice lit torches all around the courtyard, and before Talia had finished her wine, a fragile, slender woman whose close-cropped hair flamed red even in the uncertain torchlight came at a dead run across the cobbled court. She had a heavy satchel slung over one shoulder, her green robes were flying, and she was tying a cloak on as she ran.

“I’m Kerithwyn;” she said as she reached Talia. “I’m the most experienced Healer here in plague diseases. The other two you asked for will follow as soon as our Heralds are ready, but I’m ready to leave now.”

“All right, then; the sooner we get back to Kris the happier I’ll be. You’re used to riding pillion with a Herald?” Talia held out her hand to aid the Healer astride Rolan.

“You could say that,” the woman replied, taking Talia’s outstretched hand. She gave Talia an odd look when their hands touched, hesitated a moment, then set her foot on top of the Herald’s, and lifted herself onto the pillion pad behind Talia with practiced ease.

“Rolan is a good bit faster than most Companions— so be prepared.”

Despite the advance warning, Talia heard the woman gasp a little in surprise as Rolan launched himself back the way they had come.

It was obvious, however, that the woman was no stranger to this kind of transportation. She held her seat without losing her grip on her medicinals or on Talia’s belt, but also without any panic-stricken clutching. She kept her cloak tucked in all around her, and kept her head down, taking advantage of the small shelter behind Talia from the wind of their passing. Talia was relieved to learn that she was prepared to eat and doze a-horse, and if anything, was even less willing than Rolan to stop for rest.

They reached the village shortly after midday of the second day of their return. It was still utterly lifeless, and Talia’s unpredictable shields had shut down on her, so that she couldn’t even sense Kris within.

She had the Healer dismount, then backed Rolan up to the gate to beat a tattoo on it with one of his hind hooves. No matter where Kris was, waking or sleeping, so long as he hadn’t fallen ill himself, he’d hear that.

She fretted, hands clenching on the reins, when he didn’t appear immediately after the pounding. He could so easily have caught the plague himself; they were anything but immune. Kerithwyn stirred uneasily by her stirrup, the same thoughts obviously occurring to her, by the worried look on her face.

But then she heard the bar slide back and the gate cracked open just enough to admit them. She rode straight in without stopping to dismount, the Healer following, and only slid off when they were inside the gates.

“The other two are less than a day behind us, but I was ready immediately, so I came on ahead,” Kerithwyn told Kris briskly. “What is the situation?”

Kris was sliding the bar back into place, and when he turned to face them, Talia wanted to weep with pity for him. She could hardly believe how worn-looking he was; he must have been on his feet since she’d left.

“It’s bad,” Kris said wearily, “It looks like the entire population was hit within a day or two. There were five dead when I got here, and I’ve lost three more since.”

“Symptoms?”

“High fever, delirium, a red rash, and swelling under the jaw and the arms.”

Kerithwyn nodded. “Snow fever—that’s what we call it anyway. It generally shows up right after the first few snowfalls; after Midwinter it seems to vanish and it never appears in warm weather. How have you been treating them?”

“Trying to get liquids down them, especially willowbark tea, although when the fever seemed to be getting too high, especially in the children, I packed them in snow for a bit to bring it down.”

“Excellent job! I couldn’t have done better myself,” she applauded. “I’ve got some specific remedy with me, but it will take a little time to do any good, so we’ll be doing more of the same with the ones not in immediate danger. I’ll start with Healing the worst victims now. Have either of you ever assisted a Healer before?”

“I can’t,” Kris replied shaking his head, so that his lank hair fell onto his forehead. “The last Healer I spoke to said my Gifts were all wrong. I’m afraid I’ll be of more use as a simple pair of hands.”

Kerithwyn turned to look at Talia, her look oddly measuring.

She swallowed hard, but answered. “I’ve never tried, but my Gifts are Empathy and Mind healing. My instructor said they were Healing types.” If I’m going to be assisting, I can’t have shields up anyway, and this is going to take so much energy I won’t be projecting either.

“Empathy in a Herald?” Kerithwyn raised one eyebrow. “Well, you ought to be a great deal of help, then. We’ll try it, anyway; the worst that can happen is nothing. Herald, have you isolated the worst cases?”

“They’re all in here,” Kris pointed to a small house immediately next to the gate. “When it didn’t seem to harm them to move them, I put all of the worst of them together.”

“Excellent.” Kerithwyn gave him about a pound of an herbal mixture, instructing him to make a cauldron of tea with it. He was to give every victim at least a cupful, and drink some himself. As Kris left to follow her instructions and care for Rolan, Kerithwyn entered the house with Talia.

The house was cramped and dark, with the windows kept shuttered against the cold air. Kris had moved as many beds and pallets into the three rooms of the house as he could fit. He had done his best to keep his patients clean and had herbal incense burning on the hearth against the miasma of sickness, but there was still a faint but noticeable odor of illness. So many people crowded together made Talia feel claustrophobic, and the smell made her faintly nauseous. She was only grateful that these people were apparently so deeply unconscious that there was nothing for her to have to try to shield against. Kerithwyn appeared not to notice any of this.

The worst of the sick ones was a frail old woman whose bloated jaws looked grotesque on her thin face.

“Take a chair and sit next to me, Herald,” the Healer instructed. “Make yourself comfortable, take my free hand, and drop your shielding—” Again that measuring look. “—and do whatever it is that you do when you prepare to Mindspeak. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Talia closed her eyes and forcibly ignored her surroundings and put her anxieties into abeyance by concentrating on an old breathing exercise.

It took her a long, considering moment to determine that she was still capable of going into deep-trance. With everything else going merrily to hell, she wasn’t entirely certain she’d be able to perform even such a rudimentary exercise as deep-trancing.

Tentative trial proved that fear, at least, was groundless.

Once she achieved the appropriate level of trance-state, the Healer appeared to her inner eyes as a nearly solid core of calming green-and-gold energy.

Gods be thanked, she thought with detached gratitude, Kerithwyn must be even more of an expert than she claimed.

It wasn’t just that the Healer possessed a controlled power the equal of any of the teaching Healers Talia had dealt with—it was also that Talia herself had nothing to fear from the Healer’s presence. Kerithwyn was allowing no negative emotions to ruffle the surface of her mind!

The patient seemed to be roiling with something dark, muddy-red. Talia observed with detached fascination as the Healer sent lances of light into these sullen eddies, cleaning and dispersing them, and feeding the tiny, flickering sparks she uncovered beneath them until they burned strongly again. As Kerithwyn worked, Talia could both see and feel energy draining from herself to the Healer, replacing what Kerithwyn spent.

Now that she understood what the Healer required, she opened the channel between them to its fullest possible extent and reached for Rolan’s support. Energy flowed to the Healer in a steady, powerful stream from the two of them, and the work picked up in pace and sureness. It was all finished in a moment, and Talia felt the contact between them break. She sped up her own breathing, turned her concentration outward, and opened her eyes.

The Healer’s gray eyes were filled with approval “Very good, Herald; you grasped the concept quite quickly. Can you continue as well as you have begun?”

‘Til give you all I have.”

“In that case, I think that the plague will claim no more victims. As you can see, we have done quite well with this one.”

The old woman bore little resemblance to the sick creature she had been when they started. The swelling in her jaws was already more than half gone, and it was clear that her fever was nearly broken. Talia was immensely cheered by the sight. This was the first time in so long that she’d done something right....

They treated every person in the house before the Healer insisted that Talia rest. Talia sought out their packs, remembering that she had seen them when she had entered. Kris had left them all in a heap by the fire. She dug out some dried meat and fruit, but found she had so little appetite that she couldn’t even raise enough interest to bite into the radons. Instead of eating, she sagged cross-legged on the hearthstone with her back to the fire, soaking up the heat with her eyes closed, too exhausted to sense anything, and so grateful for the respite that all she wanted to do was enjoy the stillness in her mind.

“Foolish girl! Didn’t you learn anything about Gifts at that Collegium of yours?”

Talia opened her eyes in surprise; Kerithwyn was standing over her with a steaming mug in one hand and a bar of something in the other.

“You should know perfectly well that if you don’t replenish your energy reserves, you’ll be of no use to anyone!” She thrust both articles into Talia’s hands. “I know you aren’t hungry—eat anyway! Finish these, then go find your partner and make him eat and sleep. He doesn’t look like he’s done either for a week. Don’t worry, when I want you, I’ll find you. And make sure your Companions are all right as well.”

The block proved to be dried fruit and nuts pressed together with honey. Under other conditions Talia would probably have found it to be revoltingly sweet, but once she’d forced down the first bite, it seemed to gain enormously in appeal and the rest followed rather quickly. She recognized the liquid for the tea Kris had been feeding the plague victims, and saved one bite of the bar to take the nasty taste out of her mouth.

She looked first for Rolan; Kris had removed his tack, thrown several blankets over him, and led him to the stabling area of the inn. Kris had left food and water within reach, but that was all he’d had time to do.

She groomed and cleaned him, grateful that Companions were intelligent creatures that could be trusted to walk themselves cool. He was obviously tired for the first time in her experience, and equally obviously hungry, but otherwise none the worse for the run. She blanketed him warmly against chill and hunted until she found the grain storage area. She added dried fruit to the sweet-feed and put plenty within easy reach, then made a pot of hot gruel, which Rolan slurped up greedily as soon as it had cooled enought to eat.

It occurred to her, tired as she was, that she ought to check on Tantris. Kris’ Companion whickered a welcome and ratded his grain bucket entreatingly. She laughed—how long it had been since the last time she’d laughed!—he had hay, he wasn’t about to starve, but he obviously wanted some of the same treatment Rolan was getting. She obliged him as he nuzzled her in thanks. The chirras, loose in a large enclosure that gave them access to the outside and which contained enough fodder for them for a week, were in fine fettle. She changed their water, and went to look for Kris.

It didn’t take much persuasion on her part to get him into the bedroll she had laid out on the hearth. He actually fell asleep before he’d finished the rations she’d given him; she gently removed the half-finished meal from his hands and placed it where he would see it when he woke, then took up the task she’d pulled him away from.

All three of them worked like slaves far into the night, snatching food and sleep in stolen moments when no one seemed to need aid too urgently. Oddly enough, the frail-seeming Kerithwyn exhibited the least amount of wear. She showed incredible stamina and tirelessness; she frequently scolded them into taking a rest when she herself had taken fewer breaks than either of them.

All three of them were worn and wan when the longed-for sound of hooves pounding on the gate signaled the arrival of the other two Healers and their Herald-escorts.

The two new Healers—a great, hairy bear of a man, and a round-faced girl who seemed scarely old enough to have attained full Greens—quickly assumed control from Kerithwyn, who found a flat space, a few blankets, and promptly went to sleep. Both Heralds were experienced in assisting Healers, and sent Talia and Kris to their bedrolls for their first steady night of sleep since they’d arrived here.

All of them were on their feet the next day, and back to the job at hand. They took it in turn to eat and sleep, and by the end of the week several of their former patients were in good enough shape to begin helping them care for their fellow victims. At that point Kerithwyn told Kris gently but firmly to be on their way.