“Oliver, right this way, set him on the bed,” came a pleasant female voice. Esset looked to the side and his gaze followed the woman as she led them into a bedroom.
“We were helping the Nadra fight the Reshkin—he’s been bit. They said you were working on a cure. Can you help?” Esset asked her as he and the villager—Oliver—laid Toman out on the bed.
“I hope so,” the woman replied. “I’ve been working on a cure—one for humans, at least—but I haven’t had a chance to test it.” She walked quickly to a cabinet and opened it, her hand finding a vial without error before quickly closing the cabinet again. A moment later she had a syringe in her hand and she was drawing a pale liquid into it.
“Oliver, please hold him still,” she requested. Esset stepped back out of the way. He was uneasy about the anti-venom being untested, but he was glad that there was an anti-venom at all. Since there was a good chance that Toman would die without any help… Well, it was all too likely that an untested cure couldn’t hurt. He kept a close eye on her as she shoved Toman’s sleeve up so she could get at the vein on his arm. Or rather, he was keeping a close eye on Toman to gauge his reaction. There was no immediate reaction, but then Toman’s breathing began to pick up speed. Then he began screaming and thrashing, and Esset and Oliver had to pin him to the bed so he didn’t hurt himself. It was pure torture for Esset to see his brother in so much pain. He couldn’t say how long it was before Toman finally stopped fighting them and fell into a fevered sleep.
“Will he be okay?” Esset asked the healer after he and Oliver stepped back.
“I don’t know,” she replied, her eyes fixed upon her newest patient. “The anti-venom is untested. Tonight will be telling.”
Esset was silent, staring at Toman until the healer spoke again.
“And even if he does make it through the night, it will be a long recovery.”
“That’s fine, I can wait for him,” Esset replied. There was a chair beside the bed and he suddenly found it difficult to stand, so he sat down heavily on it. Exhaustion was crashing down on him now that the adrenaline was wearing off.
“You look like you could use rest. I will get a cot—” the healer began.
“No. I’ll stay right here,” Esset said. The healer pursed her lips but didn’t seem inclined to argue.
“Very well. I have another patient I need to attend to—call me if his condition changes,” she said. Esset just nodded, and she began to turn to leave the room.
“Healer?” Esset forestalled her. She looked back at him over her shoulder.
“Yes?”
“Thank you. For saving his life.”
The healer smiled—Esset was only distantly aware that it was a beautiful smile—and left the room.
Esset came to with his forehead on his arms on the bed beside Toman. The summoner blinked owlishly and studied his brother, but nothing had changed—Toman was still asleep, not completely peaceful, but passably calm. Esset wondered how long he’d been out—he knew he’d kept himself awake at least an hour, keeping an eye on his brother before he’d put his head down beside him for just a moment, giving sleep the opportunity to ambush him.
Now Esset sat back and let the events of the past day wash over him. No—Esset noticed the window, and it was still very dark out. So it hadn’t been the past day—probably still more like a matter of hours. Esset looked around the room then, the first time he’d truly paid attention to their new location. He was surprised to see the quality of his surroundings—this was no mere healer’s house, it seemed. This looked more like a manor, the home of a minor noble or some such. The chair he was sitting in was very comfortable indeed, and the bed Toman was on was quite nice. The furniture was all of very fine quality, a combination of fanciness tempered with sturdiness.
It made Esset wonder—what was a noble doing in a tiny town like this? Was the healer the noble? His memory was too foggy to make an educated guess, he’d been so fixated on Toman’s condition. Healing was an uncommon vocation for nobility; they didn’t typically need vocations at all. Esset wrote off the question for later thought.
In the face of the luxury of the room, Esset was suddenly aware of how dirty he felt. Glancing around, he spotted a basin of warm water and a wash cloth, props that were fairly common in a patient’s room. Esset went over to the washstand, and after washing his hands, he dampened the cloth and mopped his brother’s fevered brow. There wasn’t much else to do, so Esset washed his own face after that, then sat back down in the chair by the bed. Ten minutes later his face was planted on his arms again, and he was fast asleep.
Esset woke a few more times that night, but he didn’t see the healer again until morning, although he had a feeling she’d checked in a few times. When she came in just after dawn, she woke him with the small noises she made taking away the basin and returning it with fresh water. Esset opened his eyes, then sat up slowly, his gaze finding her as she looked over at him and smiled.
“Good morning.” He greeted her a bit groggily; she returned the greeting in kind. Esset glanced briefly at Toman—he was sleeping peacefully now, Esset was glad to see, so he turned his full attention to the healer. Now that he actually looked at her, he guessed that she was, indeed, the noble, her presence and vocation as odd as the house they were in.
She was a rather beautiful woman, with high cheekbones and lovely blue eyes. Her dark brown hair was very well-cared for and done up atop her head in a loose but pristine arrangement. Her clothes seemed simple for a noble, but too fancy and of a quality too good for her to pass as a commoner. Esset was guessing she was either minor nobility or the wife of a very rich merchant. He glanced at her hands, but there was no wedding ring on her finger. He took all that in in a second before realizing he didn’t even know her name. He got to his feet and executed a little bow to her before introducing himself.
“I’m sorry, I just realized I never introduced myself. My name is Jonathan Esset, and the man you saved last night is my brother, Toman Atrix-Iiren.”
“Pleased to meet you, although we both must wish it were under different circumstances. I am Lady Annalise Ateala, and I serve as healer for this town and anyone who needs my help,” she said with a small curtsy back. She looked over at Toman.
“My patient seems to be doing well. It’s tough to say for sure, but he should recover,” she said. Esset heaved a sigh of relief as he watched her lay a hand on Toman’s forehead to check his temperature.
“Excuse my surprise, but a Lady as a healer? That seems somewhat unusual,” Esset said, hoping he wouldn’t offend.
“There is nothing to excuse. My family reacted much worse to my disclosure, which is why I relieved them of my presence and moved here. Being a healer is my calling, no matter my birth, and my inheritance is my own, so I do with it as I see fit. This way, no one sees my family’s ‘embarrassment,’ and I do not have to put up with their disapproving looks and remarks,” she explained, moving about the room and getting another vial from the cabinet. Meanwhile, Esset chuckled at her comments.
“Well, their loss is our gain,” he commented, already liking her and admiring her spirit.
“Indeed,” Lady Ateala responded, flashing him a quick smile. “Now, Reshkin venom is a very potent and complex substance. It will take a long time to purge it from his system, so I will be needing to administer the anti-venom twice a day until he stabilizes, and once a day for a while after that. He will seem to get better and worse in waves for quite some time, but if everything goes well he will hopefully be right as rain in no time.”
“That is great news, you have no idea,” Esset replied, about as grateful as he could get. Lady Ateala just glanced at him and graced him with another one of those smiles. She filled a syringe with that pale liquid again and walked over to Toman’s side.
“Okay, he shouldn’t react so badly as last night, but he will react. Be ready to still him if necessary, please,” she requested, taking Toman’s arm to give him the injection. As predicted, he moaned and tried to roll a little bit, but Esset held him in place. It didn’t take him long to move back into a restless, fevered sleep. Esset and Lady Ateala kept a close eye on him until he did so, and Esset let him go after he shifted into the somewhat calmer state.
“There we are. He may or may not wake up later today. If he does, please call for my maid, Tiffany, and she will fetch some soup. It’s important that he eat something, and there’s a bed pan under the dust ruffle. I doubt he’ll be awake much longer than it will take for that. If you need anything else, call for me or my maid, as needed,” Lady Ateala explained.
“Ah, Lady Ateala?” Esset forestalled her as she was about to turn. She paused to listen.
“What will we—do we—owe you?” She seemed to have enough money, after all, although money really wouldn’t be an object, not after they got paid for this job for the Nadra. Lady Ateala smiled graciously.
“For now, nothing. Within the village, I trade my skills for the supplies and foods that I need day-to-day. For others, I ask only small favors or what can be afforded, if I ask for anything at all. Don’t worry about it, we can figure it out later,” she assured him. Esset smiled back.
“Thank you,” he said. “Just let me know—anything at all you need, it’s yours.” Lady Ateala simply acknowledged his statement and his gratitude with another of her gracious smiles and a small nod before leaving the room.
A little while later, the maid brought Esset some food and showed him where the privy was located. Beyond that small excursion, however, Esset had no intention of leaving his brother’s bedside. He was briefly forced to do so, however, when a “guest” came calling.
“Ah, sir?” chirped the maid at the door. Esset looked over at her and she continued quickly. “There is someone at the door for you.” Then she abruptly fled. Esset blinked, glanced at Toman, and then headed out towards the front entrance. As it turned out, the guest was a Nadra—apparently the maid was afraid of the members of their race. She probably had to notify Lady Ateala too, but Esset was fairly certain it was more than that.
“Nassata!” Esset exclaimed upon seeing her familiar teal figure. He was very surprised to see her—she’d fought the whole day previous, after all, and must have traveled all night to make it to the town this early. A second, closer look did reveal her exhaustion; many of the signs that betrayed fatigue in humans were different, but at the very least, Nassata was leaning on her spear. Knowing that news of Toman would be of foremost importance, Esset didn’t both waiting for a question.
“Toman’s not doing great, but he’s still alive, and the healer thinks he has a chance, at least,” the young man reported, his own weary relief—and yes, still a bit of worry—showing through his demeanor.
“That is amazing news!” Nassata responded, looking very surprised indeed. Then she confessed, “I feared what state to find the two of you in.”
“I thank Bright Hyrishal he’s made it this far,” Esset said. He added in a firm tone, “He’s going to make it, and when he’s well, we’ll finish what we started. I’m sorry, but I can’t go back yet, I can’t leave him like this…” His tone lost its firmness at the end and turned apologetic.
“Do not worry about us. You won the war for us—the battles left we can handle, especially since the stone soldiers still fight. When he is well again, we would appreciate your return, if only to do a final sweep to try to ensure the war is fully won, but we can delay our victory celebrations until then.” Nassata appeared to mean her words, too, for which Esset was extremely grateful. He didn’t like breaking—or at least bending—their contract, but he couldn’t leave his brother in the state he was in.
“I came because I wanted to know what had transpired since your departure,” Nassata continued. “And I thought you might want a few of your things.” Only then did she flip her coils aside to lift the bags she’d brought with her. Sure enough, they were some of Toman and Esset’s things, including Toman’s well-worn, floppy-brimmed hat strapped to the top of a bag.
“Thank you, Nassata,” Esset said sincerely, genuinely overcome with the unnecessary gesture from the warrior. On an impulse, he stepped forward and hugged the snake-lady. She reflexively returned the gesture. Esset was a little embarrassed when he pulled away a few moments later, but appreciative as well. The fleeting thought that maybe the Nadra were onto something with their tactile culture flicked irrelevantly through his mind.
“I can’t believe you came,” Esset confessed, feeling uncharacteristically emotional. “You must be exhausted, maybe I can see if the lady will let you—”
“Don’t worry,” Nassata forestalled him. “I did not come alone. I have another three warriors with me, and we will make camp outside town. We know some of the people here fear us, and we don’t want to make anyone unnecessarily uncomfortable.”
“Are you sure?” Esset asked. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being turned away, and after the gesture he’d just received, that felt especially wrong.
“Thank you, Esset, we’ll be just fine,” Nassata replied with a smile. “Just worry about your brother—we will be well. I will come by early tomorrow to check in and see how things have progressed. I am glad Toman is still alive. Keep well.”
“I’ll give you an update when you come by again,” Esset promised.
Nassata left, and Esset went back to the room again to keep watch over Toman. Another meal passed, and Esset kept an eye on Toman while trying to not let his own mind run away. To distract himself, he took out his summoner’s tome and began flipping through. He read for a few hours, having the niggling feeling that there was something new there, but the new summon wasn’t quite sticking in his mind. He glanced over at his brother, and he thought he saw Toman’s eyelids move. He set his book aside in order to watch his brother’s face, and a moment later Toman’s eyelids fluttered again.
“Toman!” Esset called his name quietly but urgently, leaning forward and giving his brother’s hand a squeeze.
“Come on, brother, wake up, just for a bit now,” he urged. Toman’s eyes opened partway, not able to compete with the light that was too bright against his tired eyes.