Healers (20 page)

Lizeth drew him into another embrace. Over her shoulder he saw Daum staring at him as if wondering which story, Tarc’s or Lizeth’s was true. He shook his head microscopically at his father and tried not to be too obvious about squeezing Lizeth back.

Lizeth stepped away and picked up the reins of her horse. She started leading it alongside Tarc, saying, “I can’t believe Sam left you to follow along behind in the woods! He should have insisted on accompanying you!”

“I was okay,” Tarc said, “the bandits were all captured by then.”

“Well, yes, but you must’ve been pretty shook up.”

“No…” Tarc started, then realized protesting it hadn’t been frightening didn’t fit the story they were selling. “Well, yeah it was pretty scary.”

She stopped for a moment, then turned an intense gaze on Tarc and resumed walking. “Wait a minute…” she searched Tarc’s face, “You don’t look…” She tilted her head, “How did those guys manage to capture you anyway?” she asked suspiciously.

“Um… they just seemed to appear on the trail from behind some trees.” He thought for a second, “I was walking along the trail, not paying much attention, when suddenly two guys with swords were in front of me. I turned to run the other way, but there were a couple of guys back there too. Then an archer stepped out on the trail, so, even if I managed to get by the swordsmen, he would have just shot me in the back.”

“Oh and… I guess they were too close for your throwing knives?”

“Uh-huh,” Tarc said, seeing by the expression on Daum’s face he would have to explain how Lizeth had figured out that Tarc threw knives.

“Well then,” Lizeth grinned and raised an eyebrow, “it’s a good thing you and Sam are getting along now, huh? The way you two were acting the other day he might’ve just left you there.”

“Uh-huh,” Tarc said reluctantly.

“Well, I’d better get back to guarding the caravan,” Lizeth said swinging back up onto her horse. “See you later,” she said cheerfully as she trotted away.

Daum studied him for a moment. “Why aren’t you and Sam getting along?”

“He thinks Lizeth is
his
girl,” Tarc said truculently, “Doesn’t like me talking to her.”

Daum shrugged, “He
is
more the right age for her.”

Tarc turned a wounded stare on his father.

Daum raised his hands as if surrendering, “Sorry! I speak common wisdom… which is of little relevance in the face of young love!” Then he grinned, “In that case, it probably really chapped your ass when you figured out who you’d just saved, huh?”

Tarc grinned back, “Yeah, I thought for a moment about apologizing to the bandits for interrupting their party… Wanted to wish them luck and tell them to get on with it.”

“Well,” Daum said soberly, “I’m glad you didn’t.”

Somehow Kazy managed to keep slicing bacon without slicing a finger, though her eyes spent most of their time following Lizeth, Tarc, and Daum. After hugging Tarc hard for a minute or so, Lizeth walked with them for a while, then leapt back on her horse and trotted back to the caravan’s camp.

She came directly to the back of the Hyllises’ booth. Dropping down off her horse, she stepped to Eva. She spoke quietly and reassuringly, but not so quietly Kazy couldn’t hear. “Tarc had a little run in with some bandits on the woods trail. Fortunately, Sam came along and got the drop on the bad guys. He arrested them and he’s taking them to the guardia now.”

Eva blinked, “He didn’t dispense summary justice?”

Lizeth laughed, “Well,
three
of them died, but then the other four surrendered.”

“Still, I thought it was customary to execute bandits, keep them from continuing to ply their trade?”

“Sam said
that’s
what he was going to do, but Tarc asked him to turn them over to the guardia. Apparently he figured Realth could use a few more slaves, and certainly the bandits would prefer to be enslaved.”

“Sounds like Tarc,” Eva said, sounding partly amused, partly proud, and partly frustrated.

Kazy listened to all this in growing astonishment. She remembered Sam. The young guard was handsome in a dark, muscular kind of way. She admired him and thought of him as the kind of man she might like to be with some day—if she ever got over her fear of men in general. However, taking on seven bandits?! Killing three and capturing four?! It seemed hard to countenance such a feat even if he had surprised them.
Perhaps,
she thought,
they were underfed scraggly men with knives and no swords? Or maybe… Sam’s a truly fearsome fighter?

A few minutes later, Daum and Tarc arrived. It looked as if they intended to unload the wood first, but Eva strode quickly to them to clasp Tarc in her arms. “I worry every time you go to the wood cutters! It’s
so
lucky Sam happened along!”

Kazy saw Tarc roll his eyes! It looked like he thought he hadn’t actually been in grave danger! Kazy thought he looked depressed, rather than exhilarated to be alive like he should be.

Then Daum stepped to Eva and spoke quietly in her ear.

As if she’d just realized something, Eva said, “Oh.” She turned to Tarc and gave him another hug, “Sorry Tarc. We all know you meant well. Some men are just so horrible they don’t deserve to live. I know you don’t want to be the…” Eva saw Kazy listening and broke off, just patting Tarc on the shoulder.

Feeling totally confused, Kazy’s mind whirled as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. What had Eva been about to say, but didn’t want Kazy to hear? On and off through the morning she worried at the problem while she helped get ready for the lunch rush. It seemed though, that the more she thought about it, the more bewildering the entire series of events got.

In the middle of the morning, Kazy went to the wagon for more salt. As she arrived, she saw Mrs. Spencer there with her sick son, Paul. Kazy had forgotten about the Hyllises’ patient. She’d seen him really sick with pneumonia. Kazy found it hard to believe he was still alive. She wondered if she could sneak in and get the salt without Paul’s mother realizing she was there, but just as she reached the wagon, Mrs. Spencer saw her and said, “Good morning.”

Kazy ducked her head, “Good morning to you ma’am.” Though she dreaded the answer, she followed up with, “How’s your son?”

“Much better! Much better, thanks be to your mother.”

“Oh… she’s my… auntie,” Kazy said, astonished, but happy to hear the boy was improving. Perhaps Eva wouldn’t get in trouble after all.

Eva, Tarc, and Daussie went back to the wagon to give Paul another treatment right before the lunch rush. Despite having made more pizza than any day since they’d first started selling it, they sold out shortly after noon in a massive lunch rush. Even with the pizza gone, they had a substantial line for beans, roast potatoes, roast beef, and sandwiches made with roast beef and sliced tomatoes.

Several of the caravaners spoke to Tarc when they came to get their food, congratulating him on his narrow escape. They said things like “Good thing Sam came by when he did, eh?” Tarc appeared to enthusiastically agree with the people who spoke to him, but somehow Kazy got the feeling he found their sentiments irritating.

Midafternoon, when the line had shortened to a reasonable length, Kazy looked up and saw a troop of six guardia marching through the area the Norton’s caravan had staked out for its sales booths. For only a moment did she wonder if this might have something to do with the bandits who had attacked Tarc this morning.

Instead, almost immediately her stomach heaved as she came to the realization that, more likely, someone had complained about Eva’s healing. Could she be about to lose the family she had so recently gained?! Would they enslave everyone in Eva’s family?! Might they include even Kazy?!

That sick feeling proved right. The little troop of guardia stopped near the entrance to the Norton’s area. Its leader conferred with a man that Kazy belatedly realized had accompanied them down from the city. With dismay she recognized Paul’s father, Mr. Spencer. Kazy knew Spencer had stormed away the other morning when Paul had been looking really sick. Paul’s mother had been staying with the young man ever since, rarely leaving his side. She’d run out of money and the Hyllises had been feeding her gratis. Kazy saw Spencer point to the Hyllises’ booth. The troop reformed and appeared to be marching directly towards Kazy.

Kazy’s knees trembled as their leader marched them up and brought them to a boot stamping halt right in front of her. Her customers had heard the guardia coming and had quickly stepped out of the way. The soldiers wore light armor and carried swords. The leader said, “Are you the healer Eva Hyllis?”

Kazy couldn’t bring herself to speak. She shook her head tremulously.

In a demanding tone the soldier said, “Where is she?”

Before Kazy could be forced to feel like a traitor by pointing Eva out to them, she felt a hand on her shoulder. “I’m here,” Eva said. “Can I help you?”

The soldier lifted a piece of rough paper and said, “Eva Hyllis, you are under arrest, accused of the crime of practicing as a healer, but making one Paul Spencer worse, rather than better.”

“Would that be the Paul Spencer, recently brought here on a litter, nearly dead of pneumonia?”

The soldier looked a question at Mr. Spencer who nodded. He turned back to Eva and said, “Yes.”

Eva said, “Do you want to come look at Paul Spencer, to see how much worse he is with your own eyes?”

“No. I am charged with arresting you and bringing you for judgment. I have no orders regarding Mr. Spencer.”

Kazy turned, thinking to go see if Paul was strong enough to come to the booth, but Eva kept her there with a strong grip on her shoulder. Eva said, “I see. May I gather a few things to take with me?”

“No, everything you need will be supplied.”

“Will there be a trial? Or has everything already been decided on the word of this man?” she indicated Paul’s father with a wave.

“The date of the trial will be posted at the court. Your family can bring witnesses at that time. You may have visitors once a day, just after sunrise.” The soldier turned a hard loon on Mr. Spencer, “And, if you’re judged innocent, your accuser will be enslaved two days for each day you’re forced to spend waiting for judgment.”

The voice of Ruth Spencer came from the back of the booth. “Stephen!” she barked, walking to the front. “You witless ass! Paul’s almost recovered, thanks to the ministrations of the woman you’re trying to get in trouble! Couldn’t you at least come to see for yourself before you made accusations?!”

Kazy turned her eyes to Mr. Spencer and saw his face had turned to ash. “Um,” he swallowed and turned to the soldier, “can I
retract
my accusation?”

The soldier gave Spencer an irritated look, “
My job
, is to arrest and bring the accused to the holding cells. I don’t make decisions about your accusations, or anyone’s guilt. You might be able to apply to the
court
to retract your accusations.”

In dismay, Kazy watched with everyone else as the small troop of guardia marched Eva away. Daum walked beside her for emotional support, but said he would be back to help make dinner for the caravan. He had spoken emotionlessly as if he held no fear of the outcome of Realth’s judgment, but Kazy could tell he felt stricken.

Kazy’s heart lay like a stone in her chest. Even if Eva was judged innocent, what if the caravan left before she was so judged? How were they going to keep feeding the caravaners and the market without Eva to organize and boss them all?
Why did Eva
insist
on trying to treat those people? She can’t
possibly
believe
she’s
making a difference. Sure, some people get better—some people always get better—but, unfortunately some people get worse.

Eva spooned up the flavorless, sodden beans that constituted the evening meal in the holding area of Realth’s prison. She thought to herself that if this was the way they cooked beans here in Realth, it was no wonder there was such demand for the spicy, bacon-flavored beans the Hyllises sold at the market.
Probably though,
she thought,
here in the prison the beans are just badly prepared by someone who doesn’t care
.

She’d learned the holding area kept people accused of a crime, but awaiting trial because doubt remained.

A separate “misdemeanor area” held those caught in the act of minor crimes like drunkenness, fighting, or vandalism by the guardia. The guardia also served as the judge in those cases and, because the sentences for such crimes were prescribed by law, the offenders immediately began working it off.

A third area held felons, those who had committed heinous crimes such as murder or rape. Felons were enslaved for years to decades. They were worked hard in bestial conditions. She’d been told felons frequently failed to live out their sentence.

A woman sat down across from Eva, “What’re you accused of?”

Eva shrugged, “As I understand it, I’m accused of trying to heal someone, but failing to make them better. What about you?”

The woman quirked a sad smile, “Stealing medicine for my daughter.”

“Oh! I’m
so
sorry. What’s wrong with your daughter?”

“Breathing troubles.”

Eva tilted her head thoughtfully, “Does she wheeze?”

The woman frowned, “Wheeze?”

“Like this,” Eva made her best imitation of a wheezing patient.

“Oh, yes! How did you know?”

“It’s probably asthma. That’s a fairly common condition in children. The passages into the lungs are irritated. They narrow and then air doesn’t flow very well. The child gets short of breath and the air kind of whistles in and out to make the wheezing sound.”

The woman looked stunned. “That’s amazing! You’ve described it exactly. You work as a healer?”

Eva shrugged, “Mostly as a cook. Healing’s what I love though.”

The woman gave Eva a thoughtful look, “I thought there weren’t any healers in Realth. Supposedly they’ve all been driven away by the king’s rulings.”

“Oh, I’m not from here. I travel with one of the caravans. The Norton caravan? We’ve been parked out on the merchants’ plain this past little while.”

“Don’t know of them. Didn’t you hear about Realth’s laws on healing?”

“Yeah, I read the law where it’s posted at the gate. So we covered our sign that advertised healing and intended only working as cooks. But people kept bringing us sick patients and I couldn’t in good conscience refuse to help them.” She shrugged, “We didn’t charge them for their treatment, thinking that might protect us. Apparently not.”

“Someone got worse?”

Eva nodded, “For a while. He had pneumonia and could barely breathe. He’s getting better now, but the accusation had already been made.”

The woman’s eyes widened, “You
cured
someone of pneumonia?!”

“Well, he might have just gotten better on his own. We’ll never know for sure. But I
think
we helped him a lot.”

“Can you cure this ‘asth’… whatever you called it? The thing making my daughter wheeze?”

“Um, no. If she has asthma, nothing really cures it, though some things make it better. What medicine is it you were accused of stealing?”

“A salve to rub on her chest.”

“Oh,” Eva gave her a dubious look. “I wouldn’t expect
that
to work. Did you think it was helping?”

The woman thought for a moment then shrugged, “Not really, but I had to do something.”

“If there aren’t any healers here in Realth, how did you know to try this salve?”

“The people who sell the salve have little signs telling you what their medications are good for. They say they’re not healers because they don’t tell you what’s wrong or say which medicines to use. They only sell medicines that you can decide to take if you like.” She sighed in frustration, “If the salve won’t work, what
would
you suggest?”

“Well,” Eva said slowly, realizing she might be committing healing, exactly the crime she was imprisoned for. “The ancients had medicine to make the air passages open back up. Nobody has those kinds of medicines anymore, so all that can be done nowadays is to avoid the kinds of things that make asthma worse.”

Wide-eyed, the woman said, “
What
makes it worse?!”

“Things in the air. Smoke, pollen, dust.”

“Smoke?!”

“Yes,” Eva frowned. “Is there a lot of smoke where you live?”

“Of
course
, we
have
to cook and keep ourselves warm!”

“Ah, but a good stove and chimney should minimize the smoke.”

“Our stove leaks a lot of smoke, but we can’t afford a better one.” The woman looked chagrined, “I’ve been making my daughter do the
cooking
.” She smiled at a sudden thought, “I
could
swap tasks with her.”

Eva gave her a sad look, “At least do that, but if it’s leaking a lot of smoke, that’s probably not good for
anyone’s
health. Even if you can’t afford a better one, perhaps you could patch it or plug some of the holes with clay. It might help to extend the chimney for a better draft.”

The woman’s eyes widened, “I’ll tell my husband when he comes to visit me tomorrow morning!”

“Can you tell me how the visiting works?” Eva asked. “And when we might expect our time in court?”

“There’s an area of open ironwork near the gate. If you have visitors, you speak to them through the fence there. If the guards catch anyone passing you anything, that’s a misdemeanor so you immediately go to the misdemeanor area for three days, along with whoever passed it to you.” The woman looked thoughtful, “I’ve been here for three days and my trial’s supposed to be tomorrow. It’ll probably be four days or so for you too.”

Eva’s shoulders slumped, “Four days!”

The woman shrugged, “It could be a lot worse if they convict you.”

“But the boy’s getting better!”

“A lot of their sentences don’t make much sense,” the woman said darkly. “My name’s Vivian. What’s yours?”

“Eva…” After a pause, she said in a depressed tone, “Thanks for telling me how things work around here.”

***

To Kazy’s immense surprise, even without Eva the Hyllises all pitched to produce a dinner for the caravan. It wasn’t quite as smooth. Daum took over directing, planning, and bossing. Because he’d been in the background, mostly working with his still to produce moonshine, Kazy’d assumed he had little interest and
no
knowledge of the meal preparation. Instead, he proved completely adequate to the task. He even had them do a few things differently. Things that seemed to go more efficiently his way than the way Eva’d been doing them. Daum seemed distracted at times, but in view of the fact his wife was a prisoner, Kazy wasn’t surprised.

Nonetheless, once the evening meal was served, the pizza rounds and bread baked for the next day and the beans started simmering for the night, the Hyllises kind of collapsed to a halt. Everyone seemed depressed and sad as well as worried. Daussie started to sing one of her melancholy songs, so Kazy joined in. Daum actually joined in with a nice baritone. Tarc didn’t sing, simply resting his head back against the spokes of a wagon wheel, his fretful expression slowly softening to peacefulness.

Part way into the second song, the guard, Lizeth, appeared and sat down beside Tarc. He opened his eyes and smiled weakly at her. She spoke quietly and seriously to him, though Kazy couldn’t hear over the singing. After her first sentence, Tarc’s eyes opened wide with disbelief. Lizeth spoke a little longer, then took Tarc’s hand and squeezed it before getting up and walking away.

When the song was done, Daum said, “What was
that
about?”

Looking a little dazed, Tarc said, “She offered to help us break Mom out of prison if they didn’t release her.”

“Ah, well if it comes to that we probably
could
use the help,” Daum said as if discussing the weather.

“I’ll help too,” came a voice out of the darkness. A moment later their patient Paul came unsteadily around the front of the wagon.

Tarc stood quickly to take Paul’s arm, “Are you sure you’re up to walking around?”

“No,” Paul said with a weak laugh. “But I didn’t think I could
stand
lying there for another minute.”

Tarc glanced back over his shoulder, “Where’s your mom?”

“Sleeping, which is good. Poor woman’s hardly rested for days now.”

Tarc looked Paul up and down. With a grin he said, “Well, you do look ready to break down the prison gates. I’m sure if we show up with you at our side; the guards will tremble and release Eva without a fight.”

“I know,” Paul said with a weak snort, but then lifted an eyebrow, “what if I threaten to give them my pneumonia?”

Daum laughed, “That might work. Come on, sit down and let us get you a blanket. The last thing we want you to do is to get sick again. You, looking healthy and testifying in Eva’s defense is probably the best way to get her out of that place.”

With resolve, Paul said, “I’ll be there.”

***

At dawn the next morning, Eva found her entire family, including Kazy waiting at the ironwork grating. “Who’s making breakfast for the caravan?” she asked when Daum came forward to be the first to speak to her.

“No one,” he said with a wink. “I’m hoping the caravaners are addicted enough to our cooking that missing it for a couple of days will make them think twice about leaving us behind.”

“Oh, you mean if they keep me as a slave?” Eva said, looking apprehensive.

“Relax, I don’t think they will. Paul’s actually up walking around. He wants to testify in your behalf, so it’s hard to imagine them deciding you’d caused him harm.” Daum shrugged, “But, I think we should be prepared for every possibility.”

Daum stepped back and Eva spent a few minutes speaking to each of her children and then to Kazy. Since they weren’t allowed to touch, it wasn’t very fulfilling.

Breakfast was an unpleasant gruel.

The prisoners were allowed to view the trials as they occurred. Eva attended them since that seemed to be the best way to gain a grasp of Realth’s judicial system. What she witnessed didn’t exactly fill her with hope. Accusers spoke their piece and called their witnesses, up to four. Then the defendants spoke their piece and called their witnesses, again up to four. The judge looked bored by the entire process. At some points Eva thought he’d completely stopped paying attention!

Testimony completed, the judge
immediately
passed sentence, never speaking to the justification of his decision. The sentences he passed down often seemed… wrong, making her suspect even more that he hadn’t listened closely to the testimony. On one occasion, the defendant got off scot-free, but his
accuser
was enslaved for two weeks.

On two occasions Eva thought to be gross miscarriages of justice, the winner of the case appeared wealthy, leading Eva to suspect bribery. Her heart sinking, she turned to an older woman seated near her, “Do you think the accuser bribed the judge to find in his favor?”

The woman snorted, “Of course,” she said, matter of factly, as if it would be foolishness to think otherwise. She looked at Eva curiously for a moment, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, I travel with one of the caravans,” Eva said dispiritedly.

“Oh! Are you the healer we’ve been hearing so much about?”

“Maybe? Normally I work as a healer, though here in Realth I’ve tried not to. I don’t advertise it or charge for it since a failed healing’s a crime here.”

“But, from what I’ve been hearing, you actually
do
make people better!
That’s
a rare thing. As long as you didn’t make them worse you should have been safe here.”

Eva sighed, “But it’s impossible to cure every illness. Some people get worse because there isn’t any treatment for their problem.”

The woman shrugged, “Well then, if there’s no treatment, and you
give
no treatment, then there shouldn’t be a problem, should there?”

Eva looked wistful. “Even if you can’t make them better, you can usually do a few things to help their suffering. Give them poppy or something like that. At least they’ll feel better, even if they do keep getting worse.”

The woman looked thoughtful, “Mmm, I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

Sadly Eva said, “And even if you mean well, sometimes treatments
do
make people worse.”

After a pause, the woman eyed Eva, “I’ve heard about you though. Rumor is, you’ve really been making people better.”