Healers (27 page)

Kazy shook her head. “
I
don’t know! I suppose you think
you
know who did it?” She paused and tilted her head in puzzlement, “What does all this have to do with Tarc and…”

Daum nodded gravely as her mind skittered around the implication.

Her gaze tightening, Kazy said, “You’re not trying to claim Tarc…”

“
And
Daussie… but
mostly
Tarc…” Daum took a bite of bacon himself.

“D-did… what?”

Daum watched her closely, but said nothing.

“You’re… You’re saying
Tarc
… killed those men?!”

Daum slowly nodded.

“
All
of them?!”

Daum shook his head, “
Most
of them. Lizeth killed some at their main camp.” He didn’t mention Daussie’s role.

“How?!”

Daum studied her, “Ask him to throw a knife for you some time.”

Kazy frowned, “Wait a minute.
You’re
the archer! Everyone
saw
you shoot a bunch of the raiders at the roadblock.” She shook her head in irritation, “If it was anyone, it must’ve been
you
.”

Daum shook his head again, “It always seems to slip people’s minds that Tarc and I were both shooting. He shot more of them than I did.”

Kazy stared, trying to come to grips with what Daum was saying. Finally she said, “If Tarc’s such an amazing fighter, why did Sam have to rescue him.” She blinked, “
And
, why doesn’t
everyone
know about Tarc being such a, a, warrior?!”

Daum watched her for a moment, looking as if he expected her to figure it out by herself. When she didn’t, he said, “Tarc doesn’t
want
anyone to know what he can do. He wants to be known as a healer…
Not
as a killer.”

Kazy grimaced, “If he killed those raiders, he should be proud, not ashamed. Those
sons of bitches
needed killin’.” She paused, “But still… why did Sam have to…” a puzzled look came over Kazy’s face as she looked into Daum’s eyes. “You’re… you’re saying Sam
didn’t
rescue Tarc?”

Daum shook his head.

Her scalp prickled, “Tarc rescued
Sam
?!”

Daum nodded again.

“And… and, Tarc asked Sam to say it was the other way around…
just
so no one would know about Tarc?!”

“Uh-huh.”

Kazy sagged back as she worked to process this revelation. “So that’s why you let Tarc go places by himself… and let Daussie and me go with him… ‘cause if someone attacks
him
…”

“Woe be unto them,” Daum intoned drolly.

A shiver ran over her, but then Kazy mustered a weak grin, “So what you’re saying is… I shouldn’t be worried because Daussie’s gone, I should be worried because
Tarc’s
gone?”

Daum grinned back, “Yep.”

“But with
both
of them gone, and just
you
here to protect me…”

“You’re in real danger,” Daum said, eyes twinkling.

Kazy closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Despite their conversation and her ability to grin at Daum about it, she still felt her nerves fraying a little to
know
Daussie wasn’t nearby. She’d been getting better about not having to have Daussie constantly at her side. She could even tolerate having Daussie out of sight pretty well, as long as she knew where Daussie was. The only other time Daussie had been truly far away, when Kazy went to bury her family at their farm, Kazy’d been very distraught about other things. But, now Daussie was even farther away than she had been when Daussie’d been in the caravan and Kazy’d been at her farm.

Even worse, Daussie was in
danger
. Though Kazy thought her need to be close to Daussie was because Daussie made her feel safe, now she realized she desperately wanted Daussie to be safe as well.

Kazy opened her eyes and looked at Daum. Something about his calm demeanor made her feel safe as well. “So, we’re just waiting for Tarc and Daussie to return with Eva?”

Daum sighed, “Yeah.”

“And what do we do if they don’t show up? Do we have a deadline?”

“The King’s holding Eva, apparently to see if she really can heal some people. She treated two people and he’s waiting until tomorrow to see if they get better or worse.” Daum shrugged, “After that, we don’t know what happens for sure.” He paused, gathering his thoughts, “If her two patients don’t get better, they might decide to turn her loose as she wouldn’t be the kind of healer the king wants. Good for us, though sad for the patients who didn’t get well. However, they might decide she broke their laws on healing and enslave her for a while. If her patients
do
get better, the king apparently wants to hire her.”

Kazy said, “That sounds good
now
, but what happens later, when a patient doesn’t get better, or even gets worse?”

Daum smiled at her, “I’m pretty sure your parents raised you to think of healers as charlatans who took people’s money and didn’t do them any good?”

Kazy shrugged, a little embarrassed her low opinion was so obvious.

Daum continued, “You should think about it. By now maybe you recognize most of Eva’s patients get better?”

Kazy frowned as she considered it, then she shrugged again, “She could just be having a lucky run?”

“Or, maybe she really has a talent for it. Maybe her ancestors passed down some of the ancients’ medical books to her. Maybe, her parents taught her about the human body, and illness, and what things we can still do to help people who’re sick. Maybe she actually
knows
what to do for sick people?”

“Really?! You guys have books from the ancients on
medicine
?!”

Daum nodded, “But we don’t want anyone to know, okay? They’re extremely precious to Eva and incredibly fragile. She’s made copies of the text, but no one can copy the pictures. Someone might steal the books, or damage them trying to look at them, or destroy them on purpose. You know some people believe the knowledge of the ancients is dangerous and should be suppressed?”

Wide-eyed, Kazy said, “Of course! I would never tell
anyone
!” She paused and got a dreamy look on her face, “Do you think Eva will let me see them someday?”

Daum laughed softly, “If you express
any
interest, she’ll not only let you look at them, she’ll start teaching you about healing and giving you reading assignments!”

A shiver went over Kazy, “Oh, that’d be wonderful!” She paused to think for a moment, “If Eva really
is
good at healing, then a job working for the King would be perfect… wouldn’t it?”

Daum looked sad, “We would have thought so. But, the king brought out a prisoner and had one of his guards cut the man’s leg, just so he could watch Eva sew up the wound.”

Kazy looked aghast, “That’s… awful!” Then a considering look came over her face, “Well, maybe not. What had he done that he was in prison?”

Thinking Kazy would have been happy to have the king cut up a few of the men who’d held her, Daum shrugged and looked off into the surrounding woods. “We don’t know, and maybe it was bad, but I’m pretty sure Eva won’t work for a king who cut a human being just for her to practice on.”

“But she won’t have a choice!”

“There’re always choices,” Daum sighed, “but that’s why we’re hiding out here. We think he plans to threaten her family if she doesn’t cooperate.”

“So, you’re thinkin’ that if the king can’t find her family, he can’t threaten ‘em?”

Daum nodded.

“But Tarc and Daussie are right there in the city!”

“Ah, but the king doesn’t know what they
look
like. We have to worry he might get some of the caravaners to help him find them, but he’d only do that if he knew they were in his city. If he thinks we’ve all fled, hopefully he won’t realize Tarc and Daussie are right under his nose.”

“So Tarc and Daussie are going to try to break her out of prison?!”

“That’s the idea.”

“How?! Even if Tarc can kill men by the
dozens
, the king probably has hundreds.
And
she’s probably locked away somewhere.”

Daum’s eyes twinkled, “Well then, I suppose they’ll have to improvise, don’t you?”

Wide-eyed, Kazy said, “This isn’t funny! It can’t be done!”

***

A block from the palace, Tarc glanced at Daussie as they stepped into the “Palace Tavern.” His eyes arrested on seeing her. They’d both put bootblack in their hair to change their appearance, and every time he’d looked at her since then he’d had a mental hiccup. He’d seen her with shaggy, short hair and padded men’s clothing, but he’d never seen
anyone
change their hair color before.

He looked around the inside of the tavern. It didn’t seem very clean and there were only a few customers. He walked over to the barkeep. “You have rooms to let?”

The man snorted, “Where’s your daddy?”

Tarc laid a couple of silvers on the bar, “You’re saying I should take my coin to a different tavern?”

The barkeep looked at the silvers for a moment, considering. “Nah, we got a room.” He produced a false smile and they settled down to negotiate a price.

The room was small.

Daussie wrinkled her nose, “This place is disgusting. Don’t they
ever
clean? I’d rather sleep on the street!”

Tarc turned back the covers on the bed. They didn’t look like they’d been washed for some time. “It’s close to Mom,” he said, reminding her of their primary criteria for choosing the Palace Tavern. He gave her a sidelong grin. “But it’s okay with me if you sleep on the street or on the floor. Me, I’m gonna sleep on top of the covers here.”

Daussie reached out and punched him gently on the shoulder, “Let’s go out and walk around the palace. We can see how Mom’s doing and see if we have any ideas how we might get her out.”

Tarc frowned, “I’m tired.” They’d been up most of the night; then ridden all morning to arrive back in Realth.

“So am I, but now’s not the time to take a rest!”

“I think it is. We should take a good long nap and then go visit the palace at night, not go hanging around it in the daytime and making the guards curious.”

Daussie looked around the room distastefully. “Okay,” she sighed, “I guess I’m going to have to sleep here sometime anyway.”

When Tarc and Daussie came down the stairs that evening, Tarc noted the barkeep eyeing him. Daussie glanced around, then headed for the door that apparently led to the kitchen. Tarc followed her through the crowded barroom. It was filled with uncouth looking men and, even though Daussie was dressed as a man, he had a feeling his sister needed protection in this place.

While Daussie glanced into the kitchen, Tarc looked around the room. The bartender had come out from behind the bar and was talking to someone at one of the tables. Daussie turned, “The kitchen’s just as dirty as the rooms! Let’s eat somewhere else.”

As Tarc shrugged and said, “Okay,” he noticed uneasily the man the barkeep had been speaking to had glanced his way. They moved to the door and stepped out onto the street.

As they reached the corner at the end of the block, Tarc sent his ghost back toward the tavern. Two men stepped out the tavern door and began ambling down the street after Tarc and Daussie. Though the palace lay straight ahead, Tarc turned the corner, calling softly to Daussie. She turned and looked his way curiously and he crooked a finger at her.

Daussie stepped his way, “What?”

“I probably shouldn’t have shown the barkeep I was carrying silver. He’s sent a couple of men after us.”

The look on Daussie’s face told Tarc she’d sent out her ghost. She frowned distastefully, “Are you going to kill them?”

Tarc shook his head, “No, I’ll stop them here. Keep walking down the street so they’ll have someone to follow when they come around the corner.”

Tarc stepped into a dark doorway next to the corner and sent out his ghost. The two men were hurrying now. They came around the corner almost immediately. Seeing Daussie, the one in front quietly said, “There they are!”

Tarc stepped out of the doorway behind the trailing one and smacked him on the back of the head at the same time as his ghost swirled the fluid in the man’s semicircular canals. As the man staggered into the wall and fell, Tarc bounded ahead two steps and did the same thing to the guy in front.

The two men lay spread eagled on their stomachs, looking as if they were trying to hold on to the world to keep it from spinning. The first one threw up, while the second one made an abortive attempt to climb to his feet. He lurched a step, then hit his head on a post and fell again.