Oh. “Well, I – I thought I should check the rooms just in case they missed one,” Tonnis offered weakly. It sounded implausible, even to him. Talifus must know he was lying. What would happen to him now? He could guess, and he felt a quick surge of panic, followed closely by regret. Now he wouldn’t be able to help the missing prince. Or the injured Alasians they were being allowed to treat. He probably wouldn’t even have the chance to say goodbye to Eleya. Would they kill her too, and some of the other prisoners, as Almanian had threatened? Please, please don’t hurt anyone else, Tonnis begged silently.
“Are you armed?” Talifus demanded, cutting into his thoughts. “No more lies.”
“No, sir.”
“What’s in your pockets?”
“My pockets?” Tonnis glanced down at them as though he didn’t remember, careful not to move his head. “Oh. Uh, nothing much. No weapons.”
“Put your hands against the wall,” Talifus ordered, shoving him toward the side of the hallway. Tonnis obeyed, and the guard shifted his grip from Tonnis’s arm to the back of his neck, shoving his face against the wall as well. “Don’t move,” he ordered grimly, and the doctor heard him sheathing his sword again. With his free hand, the guard searched Tonnis’s clothes, pulling out the apple and bits of bread and tossing them to the floor. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded, spinning Tonnis around and drawing his sword once more. He pointed with his blade. “Why did you have food in your pockets?”
Tonnis stared down at the bruised apple, certain Talifus could guess the truth. “In case I got hungry later?” he suggested lamely. You stupid fool! Can’t you think up anything better than that? But he couldn’t. Not in the heat of the moment.
“You are the worst liar I’ve ever heard,” Talifus scoffed. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t turn you over to Captain Almanian here and now.”
Tonnis’s heart clenched up again. But at the same time, he recalled something about Talifus. The man had always liked power and control, and now he was obviously enjoying the fear he could surely sense in Tonnis, enjoying the power he held over him. All the more so because he had apparently discovered he was not going to have the position of command he had expected among the Malornians. He was clearly none too happy with his new employers. Maybe Tonnis would have a chance if he could somehow play to that, use it to his advantage.
“I’ve never done anything to hurt you, sir,” he murmured humbly. “You remember I treated your sprained wrist that time, and when you came into the clinic last week asking for a cure for your hangover, I never told anyone you had been drinking on duty.”
Talifus paused, and Tonnis knew the other man knew that was true. Pressing his advantage, he hurried on. “We’ve worked in the palace together these fifteen years, and you know you can always come to me for anything you need. I may not like what’s happened, but I’d rather help you than the Malornians. They’ve obviously cheated you, but if you let me live, I’ll help you however I can.” It was a long speech, for him, and Tonnis was proud of himself for thinking of it. Would Talifus guess that he was still lying? Did he have any idea that Tonnis thought he was an even worse villain than the foreign invaders?
Apparently not, because the sword withdrew a few inches. But though his expression suggested he wanted to believe it, the former palace guard frowned suspiciously. “Why should I trust you this time?”
Tonnis bit his lip. “Because I don’t want Eleya to die,” he whispered, staring at the ground. “I’m sure the captain would kill her as well as me, and probably some of the others too. Please don’t let him.” It was humiliating to beg for his life, especially from the traitor responsible for so many other deaths. But Tonnis had to. Too many people depended on him, from his wife to the patients in the clinic to possibly Prince Jaymin himself.
Talifus stared at him a moment longer, then released his grip and slid his sword back into its sheath. “You owe me for this,” he warned sternly.
“Yes. Yes, I do,” Tonnis was quick to agree.
“And I’m not just talking about medical care. If I come and tell you to do something else for me sometime, you’ll do it.”
“I will,” Tonnis assured him, but inside he felt a prickling of apprehension. What was he getting himself into?
“And of course you’ll never say a word to any Malornian about this conversation or about anything else you ever hear or see me do, or anything I have you do for me.”
“No, sir. Not a word.”
“Otherwise I will personally cut Eleya’s throat out before your eyes, and then yours too.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Good. Then pick up that bread and fruit and get back to your clinic.”
Tonnis’s hands were shaking as he obeyed. Talifus walked silently behind him as they made their way through the palace and across the courtyard. Several times they passed soldiers on patrol, but seeing the new lieutenant with him, none of them gave Tonnis a second glance.
As they stepped through the front door of the clinic, Talifus gave Tonnis a little push. “Now that you’ve finished, you can get back to your regular work,” he ordered loudly for the benefit of the private who had glanced up curiously from the solitary card game he was playing at Dal’s desk as they entered.
“Yes, sir.” Avoiding the soldier’s gaze, Tonnis hurried past him. Eleya, stepping out of one of the patient rooms, looked at him in surprise and opened her mouth to ask a question, but seeing his expression, was wise enough to shut it again. They couldn’t discuss anything in the hearing of their injured patients or the Malornian on duty in the front.
Tonnis was still worried about the missing prince, but he had no opportunity to leave the clinic again that day. It wasn’t until late at night that he even had a chance to talk to his wife alone.
It had been a long day. The party with the carriage had returned in the late afternoon, accompanied by the sounds of wailing and angry shouts from outside the palace walls. The soldiers’ shields had been dented, and several of them had hobbled into the clinic sporting bruises and lacerations. Apparently Almar’s citizens had taken exception to the sight of their dead rulers being paraded around the city, and some had attacked the Malornians with sticks and rocks and whatever weapons they had at hand. The citizens had gotten the worst of it, however, Tonnis understood from the boasts of the soldiers he had treated; and the Malornians didn’t seem surprised at the way their new subjects had responded. Now the Alasians understood the position their kingdom was in; evidently the substitute prince had fooled them. And that had been the whole reason for the expedition in the first place.
At some point while Tonnis and Eleya had been treating the newly returned soldiers, one of the three rescued Alasian guards had died quietly in his bed. It was just in time for his body to be added to the mass grave in the back garden, along with the king and queen and poor Teffil. The other two guards were still unconscious and in critical condition, and Tonnis and Eleya had been busy tending them all evening.
Now, supper was over and the private who had been supervising them had finally left the clinic, locking them in and warning them to be up and ready to get back to work by dawn. The palace was settling down for the night – its first full night under new management. Through the windows, Tonnis could see soldiers on duty guarding the front gates and patrolling the courtyard. There had never been quite that many palace guards assigned to one shift before, but he supposed the Malornians had reason to be nervous. Who knew when a mob of angry Alasians might try to ford the ice-encrusted moat and storm the gates?
Tonnis and Eleya made the surviving patients as comfortable as they could before wearily climbing the stairs to their bedroom. When they had finally crawled into bed and blown out the candle, Tonnis let out a sigh of exhausted relief. At last they could talk, not that he had much energy left for conversation after a day like they’d had.
“Eleya, they killed Teffil.”
“Teffil, the stable boy? Oh, the poor child.” In the darkness, he
could tell his wife was tearing up again. “Such a terrible day. I just don’t know how much more of this I can take. So many people dead. So many friends, and now those brutes are murdering children too.” He could hear her fumbling for the handkerchief she kept on the nightstand beside the bed. “How many children have to die before those bloodthirsty villains have had enough?”
“Only one that I know of, at least so far,” Tonnis told her.
She blew her nose noisily. “What do you mean, one?”
“I mean one. It was Teffil’s body they had on the carriage, not Prince Jaymin’s.”
Silence. Then he heard the slow, excited intake of breath as she understood the implications of that. “He’s not dead! Prince Jaymin is still alive!”
“He must be,” Tonnis agreed. “I don’t know how anyone could have escaped last night, but it seems that somehow he did.”
“But where is he now?” Eleya wondered. That was the real question. “Did he find a way out of the palace? Or is he still here, hiding somewhere?”
“I don’t know.” Tonnis told her about his fruitless search and his conversation with Talifus.
“I don’t like it,” Eleya murmured, worried. “Who knows what that man might order you to do?”
“Yes, but that’s not the point. Prince Jaymin is alive,” Tonnis reminded her, trying to forget his own worries. They both knew that as long as the poor prince was on the premises, his life would be in constant danger. He would need their help to survive.
“Maybe in the morning we can find a way to get word to the others,” Eleya suggested. “We can all keep our eyes open, and one of us might come across him.”
It was all they could think to do. And even though they both knew it was far likelier that the Malornians would find him first, Prince Jaymin’s existence was a ray of hope in the darkness of their despair. He was a reason to keep on living even in the enemy’s service. Because if he had escaped, someday he would be back. It might not be for years, until he had grown up and gathered an army of his own. Or perhaps it would be sooner. But one way or another, Prince Jaymin was still alive, and there was hope for Alasia. Tonnis and Eleya both fell asleep with smiles on their faces.
Chapter 3
They each got up once to check on the patients, but the worst-injured Malornian soldier and a second Alasian guard both passed away just before dawn. Tonnis discovered them dead in their beds in the morning when he made his rounds of the clinic.
He wasn’t surprised about either. Sighing, he plopped down on the low stool beside the Alasian’s body and leaned his head against the wall in discouragement. Like the others’, the man’s wounds had been serious, and he had not regained consciousness since Tonnis had found him. It had been unlikely all along that he would survive, and Tonnis knew he couldn’t blame himself. But losing a patient was always hard, and now something about their present circumstances made it even harder. There were so few Alasians left alive here. So few possible allies to help Prince Jaymin someday.
Tonnis didn’t mourn the Malornian, who had quite possibly killed a dozen or more before he had been injured, but he was concerned about what the man’s death would mean for himself and Eleya. Would they be forced to pay for the soldier’s life with their own? He would try to explain things to Lieutenant Lasden, who seemed less cruel than some of the others. Perhaps the lieutenant would understand that it wasn’t anyone’s fault.
At that moment Tonnis heard a faint groan from the other bed in the room. Whirling around, he saw the last remaining Alasian guard stirring weakly, his eyes fluttering open as he turned his head on the pillow.
Heart pounding in excitement, Tonnis scooted his stool closer. “You’re awake! How do you feel?”
The man’s eyes wandered around the room, probably trying to figure out where he was. He licked his dry lips. “Awful,” he managed in a faint whisper. “What happened?”
“The Malornians have invaded Alasia and taken over the palace,” Tonnis explained. “It’s a long story. You’re in the clinic right now.”
The man’s eyes widened. “The king–”
“The king and queen were killed. You’re lucky you survived. Not many did.”
With a groan of horror, the man closed his eyes again. Perhaps I shouldn’t have told him, Tonnis thought worriedly. Bad news isn’t going to aid his recovery. But the man probably wouldn’t have rested easy till he knew.
With a quick glance at the doorway to make sure no one was around, Tonnis bent over his patient to whisper in his ear. “Prince Jaymin is still alive.”
The eyes opened again, and Tonnis could see a spark of hope ignite in them. “The enemy doesn’t know that we know,” he continued softly. “But the prince will need us. He’ll need you. You must try to get better as quickly as you can.”
“Yes,” murmured the wounded man, his voice a little stronger now. “Yes, I will. Can I have some water?”
Ten minutes later, while Eleya was feeding the patient water by the spoonful and Tonnis prepared a yarrow leaf tea to hasten his healing, they heard the click of a key in the lock. Tonnis looked up from his work as Lieutenant Lasden strode through the front room toward where he was bending over his little brew by the back room fireplace. The first thing the officer asked was whether there was any update on the patients. Nervously, Tonnis told him about the two who had died.
“We did all we could for the soldier, sir. My wife and I got up twice in the night to care for him. He had just lost too much blood.”
Lasden swept past him down the hall to the man’s room to see for himself. Tonnis waited anxiously in the doorway, wondering if the officer would be angry. But Lasden merely sighed as he pulled the sheet back up over the dead man’s face. “Seven last night, and now we’re up to eight. I’ll have to report this to Captain Almanian.”
“Yes, sir.” Tonnis’s voice must have betrayed his anxiety, because the lieutenant glanced tiredly at him. “Don’t worry, doctor. The captain will understand that these things happen.” But Lasden sighed again, and Tonnis thought the lieutenant looked as discouraged as he himself had felt earlier. Not that the Malornian had any reason to be. His people had won, hadn’t they? They had achieved their goal, killed hundreds of their enemies, and apparently only lost eight men in the process. So why wasn’t Lasden happy, the way most of the other soldiers seemed to be?
After checking in on his three other injured men, all of whom were making good progress toward recovery, the lieutenant paused in the hallway. “There’s still plenty to be done in the barracks and elsewhere, but I’ve decided that you and Eleya should be allowed to work exclusively in the clinic. I can see there’s a lot to do here, and of course you’ll be responsible for the clinic’s cleaning and upkeep as well. Besides, if things in the city continue the way they began yesterday, I imagine there will be more injuries to treat on a regular basis.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Tonnis was relieved. He assumed Dal and the others who lived in town would probably start looking for other jobs now. Who would dare to come back to work at the palace with the king dead and the enemy in charge? No one who had any choice in the matter, Tonnis was sure. Which meant that those who didn’t would have a lot of extra work to do.
And they need Eleya and me too much to kill us, he realized. The two of them would have to consider how they could use that to their advantage.
An hour later they were feeding their patients breakfast under a private’s bored supervision when the front door opened again. “Hello?” called an Alasian voice.
Tonnis set the bowl of porridge and a little plate of fruit on the low table beside the bed of the soldier he had brought it for and went to see who was there. It was Sir Olling, whom he had seen among the survivors yesterday. He had been a member of the king’s Council of Advisors. The late king, Tonnis reminded himself sadly.
“Good morning,” Sir Olling greeted him, sounding at least a decade older and more tired than he should have. “The lieutenant said I could take five minutes to come and
ask you for some salve for my hands. I spent all day yesterday trying to bleach bloodstains out of bed sheets, and my skin won’t stop burning.”
“Of course,” Tonnis assured him, hurrying over to the shelf behind Dal’s desk where they kept some of the most commonly-requested remedies. “How is everything, besides that? Are you and the others all right?”
The man sighed, staring at his red and peeling hands. “It hasn’t been easy. Most of us are too old for this sort of work – bending over those wash basins all day, scrubbing and wringing.” He stretched and rubbed at his aching back. “But no one dares to complain, considering the alternative.” Glancing around to make sure no soldiers were listening, he sat down on the edge of the desk and lowered his voice. “I suppose things aren’t likely to get any better, either. We’re slaves, all of us, under house arrest and toiling for the enemy. How long is this going to continue? The rest of our lives? For some of us that might not end up being very long, which may not be such a bad thing. What is there to live for now anyway? Nothing but more service to the enemy.”
Tonnis set the jar of salve on the desk and glanced over his shoulder in case the private was listening from the other room. He leaned forward and whispered, “Prince Jaymin is still alive.”
Sir Olling stared at him. “Are you sure?” he breathed, eyes wide.
“Mostly sure. The Malornians don’t have his body, anyway.”
“If he’s alive, where is he?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere far from here, I hope. But keep your eyes open in case he’s hiding in the palace. Tell the others if you have a chance.”
“Yes. Yes, I will.” The old councilor’s downcast face lit up as he smiled. “I can’t believe it. I thought there was no hope for our kingdom.” Then his expression grew thoughtful. “That could explain Sir Edmend’s absence. He isn’t here, and his body wasn’t laid out with the others. Some of us have been speculating that he escaped somehow. Maybe the prince is with him.”
In the Enemy's Service (Annals of Alasia Book 2) Page 5
