Summary
Wildern is a town on the cusp: poised on the border, with a new hospital bringing in talent from around the world.
Agna thinks it’s ripe for some more culture. She launches her plan to open her own art gallery, putting off her family’s pleas to come home and join the family business. A new mentor seems to suggest that her talents are better spent as a healer, but why else did she come to town?
Keifon becomes a doctor’s apprentice, hoping to settle into a quiet new life, even though he suspects that such dreams are out of his reach. And why is he finding it so hard to move out of Agna’s house and reach for the life he’s always said he wanted?
A new improvement project will bring an old friend to this growing border town, and test its newest residents’ loyalties. The past won’t let go, and the future won’t wait.
The Healers’ Home
by S.E. Robertson
Published on August 26, 2016. Last update: Sept. 3, 2016.
Cover art (c) RLSather. Cover titles by Emily C. Bua.
For Toby and Lily, and the synergy of cats and books. Thanks for all your “help,” fuzzies.
Previously: The Healers’ Road
Fresh out of eight years of magical healing training at the Academy of the Divine Balance, Agna Despana lands in a foreign country with a lot to prove. To fulfill her two-year field-work obligation to the Academy, she chose to come overseas, following in the footsteps of her peer mentor. But once she interviews with her host organization, she finds that her skills are needed in a less dashing and dramatic place than she’d expected.
Keifon the Medic, trained by the Yanweian National Army, left his homeland at the behest of his former lover. An opportunity had come up for medical personnel with fluency in foreign languages, and the posting was just the lever Keifon’s partner needed to push him out of his life. Heartbroken and drifting, Keifon followed the assignment.
The healer and the medic are assigned by the charity that hosts them to travel around the country, embedded with a party of merchants, to bring medical care to the remote corners of their host country. Neither is happy with the arrangement. Agna, brought up in comfort, resents being out of her element; Keifon, unused to foreigners or to high society, considers her faithless and inexplicable. But through an attack by highwaymen, long hours treating strangers, and finding new friends and new experiences, they begin to realize that they have more in common than they’d thought.
At the end of a year on the road, they have come to accept that they can call one another friends. After two years, Agna’s assignment is up, but she decides to stay in her host country after all. The two of them plan to move to a city in the north, near the border of Keifon’s homeland, which promises opportunities for both of them…
Part One ▪
Agna: The Transfer
“Name and affiliation, please?”
With a glance at her traveling companion, Agna stepped up to the desk. “Agna Despana, the healer. From the Academy of the Divine Balance, originally. I’m here to extend my contract. A letter from the Vertal base should have arrived by now.”
The clerk, unperturbed by any amount of hinting, scanned down the ledger on her desk. “Yes. Your last assignment was on the Golden Caravan?”
“That’s right.” It still seemed strange that the caravan had moved on without them. For two years, she and Keifon had traveled with the company of merchants and tradespeople, setting up their clinic at every village and crossroads they passed, treating everyone who came their way — Agna with her energy healing, Keifon with his field-medic’s training. And now someone else would have been hired to take their place, packing their belongings onto a wagon between stops, treating their patients, trading jokes with their friends, sitting around the bonfire in the evenings. She and Keifon had fallen into a rhythm together, and now it belonged to someone else. Now their lives would change again, in this chilly city’s mountain air.
“And…” The clerk looked up at the other arrival and dipped her pen.
Carefully unshouldering his lute case, Agna’s traveling companion stepped up: a man a few years older than Agna and not much taller, with skin the color of sunlit amber and dark, calm eyes. The Yanweian rhythms of his voice did not obscure his clear, though quiet, command of the Kaveran language. “Keifon the Medic, ma’am. Yanweian National Army.”
The clerk made some notes on the ledger and replaced her quill in its holder. “Welcome to Wildern, agents.”
“Thank you,” they chorused. Agna felt a tentative brush against her hand, and she wound her fingers through Keifon’s. They had arrived, after weeks on the road, after the years before that. It seemed too simple. She’d met with the Benevolent Union at the end of her two-year contract, and told them that she would stay on instead of going home to Nessiny. They’d thanked her for her service and said that she would be of use in Wildern as a healer. They hadn’t tried to talk her out of it.
Of course, she hadn’t gotten letters back from her family yet. They’d have plenty to say about this. But she had made the decision to take her life down this path — rather, she and Keifon had decided together to follow parallel paths. And here they were. That was all it took. She’d singlehandedly changed her life, just like that. And her dearest friend, who had begun this tour as a stranger, would be with her all along. She had every confidence that she would successfully open the first art gallery in Wildern, but it wouldn’t come immediately, and she was glad to have a friend beside her as she set out.
Agna shrugged at the straps of her backpack, which seemed heavier than ever. “You have rooms here, right? We were told…”
“A few, yes,” the clerk replied. “How long do you need to stay?”
“With any luck, just a night or two. I have a friend lining up some housing for us.” She ran through her mental checklist; she’d need to let Jaeti know that they’d arrived. She’d sent letters to the Wildernian historian frequently since her decision to try and open an art gallery in the city. Jaeti had turned her exacting attention toward finding a good location for their joint venture. She’d been on the lookout for years, and according to her letters, she had found a good location where Agna could live on site. She’d described it in her letters, and Agna was eager to see it in person.
The clerk blotted her page, distracting Agna from her dreams of the new gallery. “Will you need one room or two?”
Keifon’s hand dropped away, and Agna glanced at him to find him blushing and staring at the edge of the clerk’s desk. She rolled her eyes. The clerk meant nothing by it, not that it even mattered. “If there’s room to set up a cot, one is fine. I hate to take two rooms if you don’t have too many to start with. I mean, we stayed in a little tent for two years, we can take small quarters just fine. Kei, is that all right with you?”
He shifted his backpack straps. “Uh, yeah.”
The clerk plucked some keys from the rack attached to her desk. “If it isn’t sufficient, do come back and we’ll get you a second room.” She held out a pair of dull iron keys to Agna, who gave one to Keifon. “Up those stairs there on the left, down the hall, last door on the right. The bathroom is across the hall. One of us will always be at this station if you need anything.”
“Thank you very much.” Agna steered Keifon toward their remaining luggage, piled near the door. Loading himself up seemed to distract Keifon from his embarrassment, and he gamely followed Agna up the sweeping wooden staircase to the balcony overlooking the atrium. Agna set off down the hall, noting the doors to meeting rooms and libraries across from the guest rooms. A muffled conversation seeped from under one of the guest room doors; Agna sifted out the Kaveran speech pattern, but nothing more.
She unlocked the last door and heaved her half of the
luggage through. Inside, enough orange sunset light streamed in from the windows to illuminate a spacious but simple room: table, chest of drawers, couch, single bed. She set down the chest of cookware first, then the folded cot frame, and then shucked off the backpack full of clothes and books. Keifon piled his own luggage next to hers.
“There’s a couch,” he remarked, sounding unconvinced. “I’ll try that out first.”
“Plenty of time to work that out. I’d like to write a note to Jaeti, put in a request to meet with the officials here, get some dinner, and take a bath.” She swatted Keifon on the shoulder for mouthing the last part with her. “The last inn was a week ago. I’m not going to say that you smell, but I’d recommend it too.”
“I will, I will.” Keifon stretched his back, bending his neck from side to side. “Don’t know if I’m up for dinner, though.”
Agna heard the fatigue in his voice, even before he dropped onto the couch and tipped his head against the backrest. If he so much as left this room to take a bath before falling asleep, it would be a surprise. “Suit yourself. If you don’t want to go, I’ll bring you something. I’d hoped to meet with Jaeti regardless, if she’s available.”
“I’m sure she’ll be available for you. It sounds like this is as big a deal for her as it is for you.” He yawned, confirming Agna’s suspicions. “Hm. Mind if I use the bath first? I’ll try to be done by the time you’re done with your letter.”
“Go ahead.”
“Thanks.” He knelt by his backpack to rifle through it. Agna fetched her stationery kit from her backpack and the tinderbox from the larder chest. The lamp flared to life, and Agna turned it down to a soft glow.
She took a seat at the table and unpacked her paper and ink and pens. Keifon squeezed her shoulder on his way out the door, carrying an armload of clothes. Agna found Jaeti’s address in her notebook and addressed the envelope first, trying to rein in her mind before she started dancing around the room in glee.
Dear Jaeti,
I hope all is well with you. Keifon and I have arrived in Wildern at last! We are staying at the Benevolent Union base. I’d love to meet you for dinner if you have the time.
Agna realized that she had been out to dinner in Wildern exactly once. She redipped her pen.
— I trust you have some locations in mind, as I am not very familiar with the city yet. I’ll be at the base if you can meet me here. They can send for me from the front desk.
I look forward to seeing you again soon, and then embarking on the next step of the project!
Enthusiastically,
Agna.
She sanded the page, sealed the note in the envelope, and pulled a fresh sheet of paper from her stationery kit.
To the Wildern base intake agent:
I would like to meet with you to negotiate the terms of my contract. I will be engaged in some business in town, but I hope to be available as soon as you are able to see me. I would also like to request a meeting for my friend, Keifon the Medic, who is renegotiating his own contract with the Yanweian National Army. Either of us can be contacted at 17 Sprucetree Street, Wildern. The property is currently vacant, but I plan to purchase it tomorrow.
Cordially,
Agna Despana
Gathering both letters, she left the door unlocked for Keifon as she went. Two things off her list. Next, a bath and dinner, and then some much-needed sleep. By then, her mind might stop buzzing with excitement. Maybe.
Keifon: The Expatriate
Agna’s pale-olive skin no longer seemed anemic and strange to Keifon, and the rhythm of her voice echoed in his head as though he’d heard it all his life. Every other Easterner he encountered — as infrequently as that happened, even now — had changed their categorization, likewise. They were not strangers, not alien, but like her.
She could still irritate him in splendid fashion. She’d come out with some arrogant pronouncements without provocation. And yet. He’d watched her listen to the concerns of hundreds of patients along their travels. He’d played his nanbur in the evenings as he watched her draw beautiful illustrations of the herbs she’d collected. She’d studied his native language, even though it didn’t come easily to her, even though she had no use for it except to talk with him. She made him laugh when he’d thought all was lost — especially then. He’d confessed his greatest failures to her, the divorce and his drinking and the rejection by his clan. She had listened. She had hugged him and told him she was sorry he’d suffered.
Now she had invited him to live in the same city where she would make her life. It was dangerous to ask too much of her, to get too attached. She’d oblige, of course. She’d come to visit him, or let him visit; she’d listen to his worries and his joys and share her own. And eventually she’d see how weak he was, how terrified he was of walking into this strange city alone.
Until he found a matchmaker who’d agree to set him up, his life would be a balance between the fear of being alone and the shame of harboring that fear. And above all that, he wanted to stay in touch with Agna. She’d always put up with camping grudgingly, doing what she had to do for the sake of their assignment. Keifon wanted to see how she’d bloom when she had space to put down roots. He wanted her to have a place to draw that was better appointed than a lap desk and an oil lamp. He wanted her to buy all of the books she wanted, no longer limited to what they could carry in their backpacks. He’d known her only under restrictions, laden with inconveniences. He wanted to know her in her element.
Thud. “Aagh!”
Keifon woke with a start. The walls were in the wrong places, too far apart; space stretched and warped. He didn’t know these walls, or the ceiling, too far away to touch. But he knew the voice.
“Agna?”
“Ow. It’s me. Did you sleep well?”
“Mmn — yeah.” He rubbed his eyes. Last night — today — swam into focus. They’d come into town in the afternoon, after the long trip north from Vertal. This was the room in Wildern. He’d come back after his bath and fallen asleep on the couch. He sat up, ruffling his hair and yawning. “How was your meeting?”
“Oh, wonderful. Mind if I light a lamp? Sorry.”
“Nn, go ahead.” He winced and shielded his eyes as she struck a light on the table.
“It was so exciting, you have no idea.” Agna bounced around the room, straightening their shoes by the door, pulling clothes from her backpack. “Jaeti put a bid on the building and made her part of the down payment, so we just have to go over tomorrow, put down my part, and sign the paperwork. It’s happening. It’s really happening.” She landed on the couch next to him and gripped his hands. “We’re here, Kei. We made it.”
His smile turned into another yawn as he squeezed her hands. “I’m happy for you two.”
“For us! You and me. You just have to talk to the Benevolent Union, and you’ll be on your way, too.”
He slipped out of her grip to stretch his shoulders. “Hm, and find somewhere to stay. I bet there’s a lot of—”
“What? With me, obviously.”
Keifon blinked.
A year ago, he would have argued with her. Even six months ago, a part of him would have convinced the rest of him that it was too good to be true, that he didn’t deserve such a kind friend. That voice still muttered somewhere, walled up behind a hundred sweet memories.
It didn’t mean the same thing to her as it did to him, he reminded himself. Her country’s ways were different from his own, and both were different from the country in which they found themselves now. She’d mentioned that her mentor from the Academy had roomed with another friend in Vertal, as though that were a normal occurrence outside an apprenticeship or the Army. He’d gathered over time that such things happened in Nessiny, where she’d grown up, and even here in Kavera. Young people moved out from their parents’ homes without getting married, and sometimes formed temporary households of their own. They might stay together for months or years, until they got married to other people or could afford th
eir own space. It didn’t mean that they were engaged, or even interested in one another. Certainly that wasn’t the case here.
He still dropped his gaze and blushed a little. “Th-thank you. You’re sure?”
She nudged him, shoulder to shoulder. “Always. Anywhere I am, you’re welcome. Got it?”
You don’t know that, the small, exiled voice warned. I might disappoint you.
Shut up.
He hugged her, hoping she wouldn’t notice the wetness in his eyes, knowing she wouldn’t think less of him if she did. “Thank you so much. You’re always welcome with me, too.”
She squeezed him back, then rumpled his hair. “I got you some food. Then you should get back to sleep. So should I, if I can.” But she echoed his yawn this time. “Ergh. Stop that.”
“Heh. Sorry.” Keifon stood and stretched on his way to the table, where a paper-wrapped package waited. He unwrapped it, and his hunger revived at the first whiff. “Thank you, Agna.”
“Sure.” His friend shrugged. “I’m going to get changed. Be right back.”
While she was gone, he devoured the sandwich of sliced pork marinated in a mild herbal oil. He poured a glass of water from the ewer at the side of the room and drank it, then collapsed onto the couch, folding his hands over his stomach.
With me, obviously. She had such a way of seeing the fantastic as prosaic. Keifon smiled to himself. So — he let himself think it, now that he was alone — he had a place to stay. And it was with his dearest friend in the world. Not a tent, moving from campsite to campsite — though in that temporary shelter, he had fumblingly forged his relationship with Agna. Not a bunk in a barracks, not a snow-drifted doorway; not his parents’ house, every board thick with sorrow and disappointed expectations. A new place, a fresh place, a corner of his own, where he was welcome, where he could stay.
She didn’t know how impossible it was, how important, how precious. He could try to make her see, but she would still shrug it off. She would understand that it meant something to him, even if she didn’t quite see it herself. He would tell her how much it meant to him, how much she’d given him. He would make it up to her if it took the rest of his life.
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