The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare

by April Leonie Lindevald

  “Here we are,” Warlowe panted. “The gods grant that we have the right medicines.” He held up a bottle of brownish liquid, and a bigger blue bottle. “According to the paper, this one is to swallow, this other one must be poured or dabbed on the wound, and these leaves should also be crushed between fingers and packed onto the affected area. Stewart glanced at the physician, and then barked once in agreement, standing tall with legs planted and tail swishing back and forth. Rel leapt to her feet and reached for the first bottle, but the healer intervened.

  “Hold on a moment! What do you think you are doing with those?” he exclaimed indignantly.

  “Apologies, sir, but the patient is something of a healer himself, and earlier told me to send for these items which can combat fever and infection,” Rel tried to explain politely, even though her patience after the last twenty-four hours had grown thin.

  “Well, you can just give them over here. I have treated kings and courtiers; I think I know what I am doing better than some upstart folk apothecary.” He was working himself into a dither of righteous indignation.

  Rel held the basket out of his reach, drew herself up to her full height and addressed the petulant man in her most commanding tone. “Sir, while I respect your knowledge and gifts, and very much appreciate your efforts so far, I am afraid you will have to indulge me on this small point. You have already informed me that there is little else you can do, and I want this man alive. Therefore, I am willing to try any options that may present themselves. These certainly cannot make matters any worse than they already are, and there is a chance they might actually help.”

  The wounded healer retreated, bowing with a sullen expression. “As you wish, my lady.” He watched from a distance as the others fumbled with the tinctures, potions and leaves, according to Tvrdik’s own instructions. Softened some by their obvious and desperate dedication, he stepped back in to show them how to properly crush the leaves, re-apply the bandages correctly and fasten them securely. He then announced that he had a few other patients to attend to, and that he would like to be excused to make rounds and return in an hour or two to check on Tvrdik’s progress.

  “If there is a sudden turn for the worse, I will be in the palace, and you can send for me,” he offered. Attempting to mend fences, Jorelial Rey replied that she understood, thanked him again, and gave him his leave. Now there really was nothing left to do but wait. While the servants, who had slipped quietly in, bustled about, fetching fresh water and cloths, piling up clean blankets and taking away damp ones, Tvrdik’s three angels sank down wearily, Jorelial Rey in the big easy chair near his head, Stewart on the floor at the foot of the bed, and Warlowe in a straight chair on the other side of the room. They were spent and worried, and spoke not a word aloud during the vigil that followed, though many a meaningful glance was exchanged. Rel held the young wizard’s hand, and periodically wiped his brow with the cool, damp cloth. At one point, a kind servant pressed a cup of warm tea into her hand, but she did not recall drinking it. Warlowe dozed on and off in his uncomfortable chair, and Stewart was the soul of canine faithfulness, head on paws, eyes fixed on his friend. The only sounds in the room were the creak of the bed when Tvrdik tossed and turned, and the fevered moaning and mumbling they had grown used to, punctuated on occasion by some loud and incomprehensible exclamation. They had no sense of how long things went on in this manner; an hour or two, perhaps longer. Suddenly, Stewart lifted his head, ears erect, and whispered, “Listen. D’ye all hear that?”

  “What?” replied Jorelial Rey, who had been drifting.

  “Just listen…” They all held their breath a moment, trying to focus, and slowly, gradually perceived what the dog had first noticed: the blessed, miraculous sound of silence. No creaking, thrashing, moaning, mumbling, or crying out. Seconds went by, and then minutes, and nothing interrupted that glorious vacuum. And then came the sweetest sound any of them had ever heard – the sound of snoring! Loud, rhythmic, blatant snoring. All three of them jumped up, cheering and laughing in relief, and fell upon one another with embraces and hearty claps on the back.

  They all raced to Tvrdik’s side, and Rel laid her hand on his forehead.

  “Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but it feels to me like his skin is cooler to the touch.”

  Warlowe also checked, “No, you are right, and he’s sleeping comfortably for the first time in hours.’

  Stewart chimed in, “I think we’re past the worst of it, M’lady. The crisis is over.”

  “Good old Xaarus,” she mused, “and thank you both for your trust and quick action. Likely it made all the difference.” Warlowe led her gently away from the bed, “My lady, you have been up with him all night and there are important tasks ahead for you this day. Now that he has turned a corner, we can take it from here. Why don’t you go into the drawing room and try to get a few hours of rest? I daresay you are overdue.”

  She looked at him with gratitude, then back to their patient, his chest rising and falling in regular rhythms, “You’re both sure?”

  Stewart replied, “Go on, M’lady. The healer will return soon and give an official verdict, and we’ll stay with him until then.”

  “Alright. I am fading.” She grabbed a blanket off of the fresh pile that had been brought in, and dragged it into the adjoining room. Casting about for a comfortable place to fall, she pulled all the stuffed cushions from the chairs in the room onto the floor in a formless heap, wrapped herself in the blanket, and lowered herself into the soft mass, curling up like a small child on its mother’s lap. Half a moment of rearranging pillows under her head and hips and she was already gone into oblivion.

  NINETEEN

  Secrets Revealed

  JORELIAL REY WAS AWAKENED BY a sharp tugging at one of her sleeves, and an oddly accented voice at her ear, “My rady, wake ub! Cub an’ see, my rady.”

  It was Stewart, her sleeve in his mouth as he attempted to address her. He seemed agitated. She blinked and tried to prop her achy frame on the pile of cushions she had slept on. It did not happen without a few choice words at the stiffness in her muscles. But the dog was impatient and insistent.

  “What is it, Stewart? Something gone wrong?”

  “No, no, m’lady, all’s well.” He had dropped the sleeve as she sat up, and sounded more like himself.

  “How long have I been out?” she questioned, still trying to focus.

  “Just three hours, mum; we hated to wake you, but it is almost high noon, and there is a sight just beyond that will warm yer heart. Aye, that it will. Come with me.”

  She scrambled to her feet, stretching out her limbs, and smoothed her hands over her sleep-swollen face and hopelessly wrinkled clothing. “Dragonsbreath,” she muttered, and then stumbled after the bounding dog, back into the bedroom. There, sitting up in bed, and being spoon-fed broth by a servant, was Tvrdik. His face was haggard, but there was color in his cheeks as he sipped the hot liquid. Hearing them come in, he turned and nodded to her, then broke into a sheepish grin. “I was a little hungry….”

  Jorelial Rey shrieked in delight, and Stewart let out a howl, the two of them dancing around the room. At that moment, the big hound could not resist licking her face in his exuberance, even though she was the Lady Regent of all of Eneri Clare. Tvrdik frowned, “Did I miss something?”

  Rel came to his side, a broad smile lighting her face, “Yes, almost everything. We thought you were a goner, but here you are having breakfast. It’s just too wonderful. Here, let me do that – go and get some well-deserved rest.” She took the steaming bowl and spoon from the servant, who curtsied and made her exit. Rel sat down by the patient and offered him another spoonful, as Stewart filled her in.

  “The doctor has already come and gone and pronounced him officially on the mend. Ye should have seen the way he scratched his head, and the mystified look on his face when he saw how improved our patient was. I think he will be givin’ ye
his apologies, missy, and that for certain. Master Warlowe has already gone to his post, the two young folk stopped in to visit, and are, by now gone off on their weddin’ trip, and if ye don’ mind, I’ll be takin’ my leave of ye also. There are a few things out in the world that I should be attendin’ to.”

  “Go on, Master Stewart, with my blessing and my profound thanks. I don’t know that I could have gotten through this night without your support. You will be hearing from me.”

  Tvrdik waved his good hand, “Farewell, friend. I am in your debt. Take good care, and I hope to see you soon at the house…”

  “Och, I’ll be comin’ ‘round here to check on ye before that, long as it’s alright with you, m’lady?” She nodded and smiled, and the wolfhound made her a graceful bow, trotting off through the door of her apartments, which the serving girl had left partly ajar.

  Jorelial Rey got up and crossed to shut the door tightly behind him, then came back and settled herself in the big chair at Tvrdik’s side. He took another spoonful of soup, and frowned again, “Everyone is making such a fuss.”

  Rel rolled her eyes, “You have no idea. Your wound was badly infected, and the fever took you. You were miserable and delirious all night, and we thought we had lost you. The palace healer near threw up his hands, but I sent Warlowe and Stewart at first light for the things you suggested from Xaarus’ cottage. We used those, and anything else we could think of, but we didn’t know if any of it would turn the tide. And look, here you are!”

  “Well, not quite ready to run a race yet, but far from dying.”

  “You can’t imagine how relieved I am to hear that.”

  “Were you here all night then? I am sorry…”

  “It’s alright. I suppose I owe you something for saving my life, and besides, if you think I am about to face Lord Drogue any time soon without my secret ace, you are mistaken.”

  Tvrdik’s eyes drifted down. “Oh.” he said, a little dejectedly. Realizing how impersonal she must have just sounded, Rel went on. “I see, however, that your sense of humor has tragically passed away during the night…” When he looked up at that, she gave him a cheerful wink, which elicited a brighter expression. He pushed away the spoon.

  “I think I’ve had enough for now. Could I have a bit of water? And do you see my eyeglasses lying about anywhere? I am lost without them.”

  Ah, she thought, he’s asking for his glasses. He must be better indeed. She stood, put the soup bowl down on a table, and gave the room a quick once over.

  “There they are, on the bureau.” She strode over to retrieve them, found a clean cloth to wipe off the lenses, and presented them to him. “All in one piece, nary a scratch.”

  Tvrdik held them in his hands for a moment and muttered, “Bless these, and the assistance they give to me.” Then he slid them onto his face, adjusting the wire over the bridge of his nose.

  “Oh, my!” he exclaimed, “That’s much better. I feel more myself now. Oh! You look terrible.” The words escaped his mouth before thought could catch them. “I – I mean, you must have had a difficult night…”

  Jorelial Rey raised an eyebrow, “You try getting up before dawn, participating in a wedding and a coronation, narrowly escaping death by being hurled to the stone stoop, reassuring the citizens, interviewing the perpetrator, greeting guests at a banquet, and then sitting up all night with a friend you think you’ve probably killed, and then see if you look as fresh and lovely as a lily. And, by the way, you aren’t likely to win any beauty contests this morning yourself either.” She glared at him with an exaggerated angry face, but it made her look so ridiculous, that they both burst into laughter. Jorelial filled two of the wooden cups with cool water from a fresh pitcher the servants had brought, and handed one to Tvrdik. She urged him to lean forward, and rearranged his pillows into a more cozy, supportive nest. After draining the cup, he settled back on them with a sigh. She refilled it and gave it to him again, picking up the other for herself. For several minutes they sat in companionable silence, sipping water. And then, with feigned nonchalance, Jorelial Rey asked, “Who is Ailianne?”

  “Pardon?” Tvrdik started, and almost spilled his cup.

  “Ailianne. You kept calling out that name all night. Just wondered. Perhaps it is someone I may send for?”

  There was a long pause, Tvrdik staring into the wooden cup, and then, in a low voice, measuring his words, he answered, “Ailianne was one of the other students in Xaarus’ school. The only female. We grew up together.”

  “You were in love with her?” Rel prodded. Another long pause.

  “I think I would have said so then. We were so young, how could I have truly known? She was very beautiful, and bright, and talented. And the only girl I ever had contact with at all. She was always kind to me, as a schoolmate, even a friend, I suppose. But, beyond that, I don’t think she ever knew I existed. There never was anything between us.”

  “You could have tried to remedy that…”

  “I – I never had the chance. Ailianne was too curious, too hungry for power. Her mistakes cost her her life. She has been gone a very long time…” Tvrdik’s narrative drifted off.

  “Oh, I am so sorry.” Rel had just remembered that part of Tvrdik’s story and regretted her own blunder, “I had forgotten. I didn’t mean to open an old wound…”

  “No, no. I’m just embarrassed. I guess there must be a part of me that won’t let go of those memories.”

  Neither spoke for a beat, and Jorelial Rey let her mind drift. Then, “Memories can be sweet. There was a young man I fancied once for a little while, when I was about Delphine’s age. He was the son of some foreign dignitary who stayed at Theriole one summer. He was tall and dark with smoldering eyes that were always staring at me hungrily. I think I rather liked it. He was so handsome and exotic.”

  Tvrdik watched her rekindle the sensations of that part of her young life, and felt a pang of bittersweet sympathy for the lonely young girl just emerging into womanhood. He wished that he’d had the opportunity to have known her better back then. She went on.

  “That summer there were many balls to celebrate one thing or another – the social events of the season. We danced together, strolled through the gardens, and talked and talked. Later, he sent me a few gifts and some poems he had written just for me. I was besotted with him.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, at some point I took him to see Tashroth, of course, Tash being the other half of my heart, and the fool ran off in terror. I never heard from him again. I thought I would die of a broken heart.”

  “Poor, poor Jorelial Rey. What a sweet, sad story. I am so sorry for you.”

  “Don’t be. He would have made a terrible spouse. What was it Tash called him? A vain, supercilious twit, I think? Tash is always right. Still, it hurt for a time. You know, perhaps that is why I found it hard to take Delphine’s relationship with Mark seriously. I may have been thinking of what an idiot I was at her age. She is very different from what I was…”

  “Mark is a good man.”

  “I am finding that out.”

  “I wonder what ever happened to your handsome dignitary’s son?”

  “Oh, last I heard, he’d married the blonde, buxom daughter of a wealthy landowner with a huge estate, and has three kids already. He’s probably fat and boring and opinionated about everything.”

  They both laughed at that, and as their mirth faded, Rel sighed, “I’ve never told that story to anyone before, not even Delphine. Promise me it stays between us.”

  “I promise. And I am glad you told me. I enjoyed hearing it, and getting to know a little more about who you are, Jorelial Rey. Xaarus was right.”

  “About what?”

  “Oh, he said I would find out that we had much more in common than I imagined. I hope that doesn’t offend you?”

  “Of course not.” There was another l
ong silence, not entirely unpleasant, but Rel finally looked up to see Tvrdik drooping, the effort of even this short conversation beginning to take a toll. She sat up straight, “Well, much as I would like to sit here with you all day and reminisce, I am supposed to address my Cabinet on the topic of ‘Wizards, Villains, and Creative Warfare’ in less than two hours, and as you so gallantly pointed out, I can hardly appear before them looking like this.”

  Tvrdik’s face fell, “I must go with you. You weren’t supposed to have to do that alone…”

  “Don’t even think of moving an inch out of that bed – you’ll undo all the good we worked so hard to achieve. Look, I can handle this. I’ll just give them the broad outline, and you can fill in all the details yourself, in person, as soon as you are up to it, agreed?”

  “Agreed.” He sighed and sank back, knowing he hadn’t even the strength to sit up at the moment.

  “Right now, your only task is to rest and recover, and get your strength back as quickly as possible. I’d rather limp along without you for a few days, if it means you might feel better faster, and without any setbacks. Rest, enjoy this opportunity; soon enough there will be little time for leisure.”

  “And here I am in your bed, in your rooms – something else I am taking away from you. That isn’t right.”

  “You just stay right there and don’t worry about me. I can arrange to use a spare room for a few nights, and you know I won’t be spending much time in it anyway. As soon as the doctor thinks you can be safely moved, we’ll see about getting you home. Till then, you can hardly blame me for wanting you close by where I can keep an eye on you. I’ll probably come to check in after the meeting, and get your input on how our case is faring so far.”

  “I will help you in any way I can.” His voice was weakening and his eyelids were closing involuntarily. She pulled the blankets up around him, and tucked him in.