The Shaman's Curse (Dual Magics Book 1) (11 page)

Boreala walked with Father and Cestus through the silent, empty,
pre-dawn streets of Caere. She seldom had a chance to get out into the city.
Pity there was so little to see at this hour. She led her own horse, but Cestus
led three more. The clop of their hooves on the cobblestones was almost the
only sound other than the mournful cry of sea gulls.

She’d already made her transformation to Boreleus—a simple
change and a familiar one she’d been making since she was a girl. Boreleus was
really just Boreala with all the more feminine characteristics concealed by
magic. She looked younger as Boreleus, almost too young to be a fully qualified
Healer, let alone a Master Healer. Since she didn’t bother to add the illusion
of bulk, Boreleus also seemed deceptively frail. She wasn’t really concerned
with either of those. It had been the additional freedom a seemingly male body
provided that had driven her to create Boreleus. Very few people knew the
connection between Boreala and Boreleus.

They walked from the Temple District to the Guild District.
All the houses looked alike to Boreala, but Cestus seemed to know the way, so
she followed along. He let them into the courtyard of a respectable house,
which was already a-bustle with activity. Two men who had been going over three
very over-worked horses, checking legs for lameness and assessing fitness,
stood and turned toward them.

One man was tall, lean, and blond. Clearly no relation to
any Fasallon. The other . . . Boreala looked between him and her father. Yes.
The resemblance was too strong to be coincidence. This had to be her new
half-brother. Vatar. What a strange name.

“You’ll never get far on those horses,” Father said. “We’ve
brought fresh horses for both of you.”

Cestus handed over the leads of the two spare horses to the
blond man, who looked them over with appreciation and began immediately
saddling them and arranging travel packs.

Vatar stepped forward, ducking his head. “Thank you again, .
. . Father. I hadn’t realized what bad condition these were in until this
morning.”

Father nodded, but didn’t move to touch Vatar as he would
any other of his sons. “You had other things on your mind.” He turned back.
“You know Cestus, of course. This is Master Healer . . . uh, Boreleus.”

Vatar looked sharply at her. Well, of course, she wasn’t
what he was expecting. After a moment he nodded to her. “Master Healer. I’m
grateful for your willingness to help.

Boreala merely smiled and nodded. Her transformation didn’t
extend to disguising her voice—much too high and soft even for frail-seeming
Boreleus.

The goodbyes were swift. A middle-aged woman handed up an
extra bag of food to Vatar and stepped back into the shelter of her husband’s
arm, weeping. A purely Caerean boy, clapped Vatar’s leg and promised to see him
again at someplace called Zeda. Another tall, blond man watched from the
doorway and nodded to his companion.

Father hugged both Cestus and Boreala before they mounted.
He looked up at them and Vatar. “Take care of each other. Come back safe.”

“I’ll see to it,” Vatar said. Then he turned his horse’s
head and started across town toward the City Gate.

~

Boreala had little time to worry about anything else. Once
they were out of the city, Vatar and Ruar—the tall, blond fellow—set a
punishing pace, as fast as the fresh horses could take without breaking down.
What concentration Boreala had to spare went into maintaining her
transformation. She couldn’t let go of it until they were beyond the farmlands
that surrounded and supplied Caere. She couldn’t keep it up much longer,
though. She was stronger than she looked, but she didn’t claim to have her
father’s Talent or stamina.

They stopped at noon, just beyond the last of the farms, to
allow the horses to rest and graze a little. Boreala sat down in the shade of
an oak tree, finally letting the transformation slip away.

Cestus sat next to her and handed her a water skin and a
dampened cloth. “Careful. In my time teaching Vatar he’s shown himself highly
suspicious of magic. I don’t know about the other fellow, Ruar.”

Boreala nodded and rubbed the damp cloth over her face as if
she were merely removing a cosmetic disguise.

Vatar came over with slabs of some tasty nut bread that must
have been in that bag the middle-aged woman had handed up to him and pieces of
cured meat. Boreala and Cestus accepted both.

As she pulled the rag from her face, he started and made
some odd gesture with his hand. Well, Cestus had said he distrusted magic.

“I’m sorry for the deception,” Boreala said. “My real name
is Boreala. For many reasons, it was safer for me to leave Caere in disguise.”

Vatar drew a deep breath and nodded slowly. “I . . . felt
something was wrong about you.” He looked back toward Ruar, who was tending the
horses. “Um . . . I should explain. The Dardani fear and distrust anything to
do with magic.” He looked away for a moment. “I’ve seen a little of what the
Healers can do. I . . . If it helps save Mother, Pa and I won’t . . . we’ll try
to shield you. But you should try not to do anything too obvious. It’s not
safe.”

Boreala blinked. She’d heard that the barbarians were
strange, but she’d never considered that anyone might actually
reject
magic. She brandished the damp cloth. “Will this help explain it? I didn’t
bring a dress.”

Vatar smiled. “That’s all right. Dardani women wear tunic
and trousers just like the men. No one will think twice about your clothes. He
looked at the damp rag, bit his lip, and then took it from her and rolled it in
the clay soil before handing it back to her. “Ruar
might
accept it as an
ordinary disguise
if
he can see that you actually wiped something off
your face. And it will make much better sense to have a woman Healer to help
with a birth. I’ll have to explain that women are treated differently in Caere
and don’t have as much freedom as Dardani women.”

Cestus nodded. “Good thinking.” He took the cloth and tied
it around Boreala’s neck, with the stains showing prominently. “There. That
should help.”

~

Boreala found the riding much easier when she didn’t have to
simultaneously hold even the simple transformation into Boreleus. It seemed Vatar
had managed to cover the minor change in her appearance with Ruar. At least, he
made no comment on it in front of her.

Whenever they walked the horses or stopped, Boreala pumped
Vatar for every detail he could remember about his mother’s earlier pregnancies.
She began to draw a pretty clear picture of what she’d be dealing with when
they arrived. This wasn’t going to be easy and it was going to require
magic—though fortunately not the obvious kind Vatar seemed most worried about.

When they rode into what Vatar described as the spring
village of the Lion Clan early in the afternoon of the third day, Boreala
looked around in disbelief. She couldn’t see how these tall people could
possibly squeeze themselves into those squat little sod-covered huts.

A little girl of about eight or nine, light brown hair
flying behind her, ran out from one of the huts. “Vatar!”

Vatar swung off his horse in one fluid motion and grabbed
the girl into a hug. “Kiara, it’s good to see you.” He released her and held
her at arm’s length. “How’s Mother?”

Kiara’s face crumpled. “Not good. They won’t tell me
anything, but I can tell from the way Pa looks. They took her to the women’s
hut this morning.”

Boreala dismounted more stiffly than Vatar had. “Take me to
her. Now.”

Kiara backed up a little, into Vatar’s arms.

Vatar gave her a squeeze. “It’s all right, Kiara. Boreala’s
a Healer from Caere. She can help.” He stood up and started off through the
huts. “This way.”

Cestus lifted her Healer’s bag from her saddlebow and
followed.

Vatar stopped outside a hut that was larger than most of the
others.

Another of the tall, fair Dardani paced back and forth
before the entrance. Fair, but with strands of grey in the blond hair. He
turned at their footsteps and strode forward to pull Vatar into a brief hug.
“I’m glad you got here in time.”

“I did more than that, Pa.” Vatar gestured to Boreala and
Cestus. “Veleus sent a Healer all the way from Caere to help.”

Boreala saw the man start at the mention of Father’s name.
Vatar turned to her. “This is the women’s hut. We can’t go in, but you can.”

Boreala nodded, took her bag from Cestus and started to push
the leather covering from the doorway.

Vatar grabbed her arm to steady her. “Be careful. There’s a
step down.”

Boreala put a foot down and felt for the floor. There was
indeed a considerable step down. So that’s how the tall Dardani stood in these
low huts. She stood blinking for a moment, allowing her eyes to adjust to the
light of oil lamps after the bright sunshine outside. It was blessedly cool in
the hut, insulated by all that sod.

~

Boreala could dimly make out the shapes of older women,
sitting in a circle around another lying on grass mats on the floor. Her
patient. “I’m Boreala. A Healer from Caere. I’ve come to help.”

When her eyes adjusted, Boreala saw very much what she had
expected. The woman was asleep, but her pale face told Boreala all she needed
to know. Kneeling beside her, Boreala placed her hands on the woman’s abdomen,
giving the appearance of a physical examination. She closed her eyes and took a
slow breath to help her find that calm place from which she worked. Then she
probed gently with her mind to really assess the woman’s condition in ways her
hands alone could not. Lucina. That was the name Father had called this woman,
in tones that made Boreala sure that her well being was important to him.

The bleeding hadn’t started, yet. Boreala had seen this
condition many times before. Soon, probably before the birth, Lucina would
begin to bleed. Once that started, there might be little even Boreala could do
to save either Lucina or the baby. The only chance was to bring the baby now
and she would have to be prepared. The bleeding would almost certainly start
during the birth. Boreala sighed. She’d hoped to rest before this started, but
time was too precious.

Boreala stood up and began preparing a mixture of herbs from
her pack. “I’ll need some water to mix this with.”

“What is it?” the old woman who seemed to be in charge here
asked suspiciously.

“It will help to bring the baby. The sooner the child is
born, the better for both of them,” Boreala answered.

The old woman nodded. At her gesture, another woman brought
a cup of water.

When the powder was dissolved, Boreala woke Lucina. “Drink
this.”

Lucina looked at her blearily. “Who . . .?”

“My name is Boreala. I am a Master Healer from Caere. Now
drink this.”

“How . . . ?”

“Veleus sent me.”

Lucina’s eyes widened in alarm. “Vatar!”

Boreala heaved another sigh. Why did patients have to stress
themselves unnecessarily? “Vatar is safe. He is here, outside the hut. Now,
drink this.”

With the cup held relentlessly to her mouth, there was
little else Lucina could do.

“What was that?” she asked.

Boreala put on her calm, professional voice. “A mixture of
herbs. It will bring on your labor.”

Lucina tried to sit up. “No! My baby must not come early.
Not this time!”

Boreala answered firmly, “Lucina, either this child comes
now or you will both die. The boy is small, but old enough. But it must be now.
If you die in giving him birth, he will die, too.”

“Boy?”

“Yes, it’s a boy.” Boreala’s quick probe had told her that
much, too.

“Fenar.”

“That’s a nice name,” Boreala said, talking just to keep
Lucina calm while Boreala concentrated.

The first contraction came soon after.

Boreala let the Dardani women handle the actual birth. She
could see that they were well experienced with such things. Anyway, it wasn’t
the birth that would be the problem, but what came after.

She paid little attention as the tiny boy was handed off to
be cleaned and wrapped in a soft blanket. One of the women took him outside,
presumably to show him to his father. Boreala couldn’t spare any concentration
for that.

~

Vatar turned as the hide covering the door was pushed aside.
One of the Dardani midwives stepped out of the hut, carrying a baby.

She walked over to Pa and placed the bundle in his arms.
“You have a son. His name is Fenar.”

Pa barely looked at the baby in his arms. “Lucina? How is .
. .”

The old woman smiled. “There was bleeding. But the little
healer from the city slowed it with her herbs. If no fever sets in, I think she
will recover.”

Vatar sat down heavily, sinking straight to a cross-legged
position on the ground, dragging Kiara with him.

Pa exhaled, every muscle relaxing visibly after the strain.
He looked down at the baby and smiled. “Fenar? It’s a strong name.”

Vatar felt an unfamiliar twinge watching Pa hold baby Fenar.
This was truly Pa’s son in a way Vatar could never be. Then Pa looked up and
his smile included not just Fenar, but Vatar, too. “Come see.”

That smile warmed Vatar. Nothing had changed. He was still
Pa’s son, too. Vatar stood up and came to look at his little brother. “He’s so
tiny.”

“You weren’t much bigger the first time I held you,” Pa
said.

Kiara stood on tiptoe until Pa obliging lowered the baby so
she could easily see too. “He’s all red and scrunched up.”

Pa laughed. “All babies start out that way.”

Fenar wailed lustily. Pa hugged him to his chest and swayed slightly
from side to side until the baby quieted. He looked up at Vatar, smiling. “I
learned that with you.” After another moment, Pa handed Fenar back to the
midwife to be carried back inside to Mother.