by Dana Davis
Pim shook her head. “Not since they killed my husband. I’ve been watching from here. Haven’t seen a body until you lot.” Her blue eyes moved to Thad. “What’re you going to do?”
“I have to finish cleaning out the wound first. This will hurt, Pim. My apologies.” He offered her a stick to bite on and she immediately put the branch between her teeth. Thad wished he could put patients to sleep before healing them but, even with Predula’s tutelage, he didn’t develop that ability. Anais poured water over his hands and he scrubbed them together. Then he took out a rag and wet it. “Here I go, lass.”
Though he was careful, Pim groaned and cried. At one point, her hands flew to the injury, but Siri quickly secured them out of the way. She and Xiath held Pim down the remainder of the cleaning. Those who didn’t help with Pim kept an eye out for intruders. A pale Cass applied pressure when and where Thad instructed but her face hardened with determination when he gave her a concerned look. Bel’keive stood nearby. She winced and swallowed hard but kept her stomach under control. Water was Anais’s duty and she never let the bucket run dry. Without hesitation, Kal helped clean pus and blood until at last, the wound was free of maggots and barrow leaves and dirt.
Pim’s brow was wet and her dirty cheeks tear-stained.
“The wound is clean.” Thad rinsed his hands. He was sorry he couldn’t have done this with the healing Energy.
The others released Pim and she removed the stick from her mouth. “Stinking mudworms! That hurt more than the bloody arrow.” She closed her eyes a heartbeat, looking as though she might faint.
Thad placed one hand on her hot forehead and the other on her wrist.
She stared up at him and started to put the stick in her mouth again.
“Just lie still. This part won’t hurt. That a promise.”
He pushed the healing Energy into the youngling’s body, sent it through skin, blood, and sinew in search of the injury. He pushed out the infection, attacked what didn’t belong, using Pim’s own life particles. Then he quickened more life particles to close the injury, growing new sinew and skin, and wove them together. When he was done, a thin scar was all that remained on the youngling’s leg. He pulled the Energy back into his body and released it into the earth. Sweat trickled down his temples and his back. Pim slept, of course. A respite she certainly needed.
Once he finished, Bel’keive heaved her stomach in some nearby grasses. At least she had waited until the youngling was out. Thad crossed to her but she waved him off. The sun was nearly down and they headed to the little house a ways up the river, what there was of it, with Xiath cradling Pim in his large arms. The structure was four walls with a thatched roof, no more than a shack. A separate privy stood behind and crude fencing surrounded a small lean-to, where Thad suspected the goat stayed. The tree stump next to the cottage still had the cuts from the axe Pim said was stolen, and splinters lay strewn on the grassy dirt. Only enough for kindling.
Thank the Goddess they’d found Pim. She wouldn’t have survived long if Thad and the others hadn’t happened by this way, not with her injured leg and her only milk goat gone. If she had chickens, they had probably been spirited away too. And this lass was a youngling, Gypsy kin. Thad didn’t feel the attachment he did to other younglings but that bond would come soon enough.
LeChamb, Roone and Jin took the horses toward the lean-to, while Thad and the rest went inside the dark shack. Stale wine assaulted his senses but he stood waiting as Siri and Cass lit the lanterns. Bel’keive and Kal got a fire going in the hearth and soon the place brightened up, but the fire wouldn’t last long. Stains covered the rough floorboards, wine probably, and several discarded bottles lay strewn about.
The place actually had two rooms. This one consisted of several crude cabinets, many open and empty, a table and two chairs, one tipped onto its side. The other room, he suspected was the bedroom. Since Kal held a lantern, Thad motioned her in there. He and Xiath followed and the large man placed the unconscious girl onto the straw mattress. She didn’t stir. Once Thad covered her with a wool blanket, he opened the window shutters and followed the others back into the main room.
“This will be cramped,” Siri said. “But there’s enough room for everyone to sleep.” She began digging through the packs that had been brought inside. “Kal, fetch a mop, if you can find one. We need to get that wretched smell out of here before we’re all heaving. Bel’keive, Cass, see what that child has left in her cabinets. Thad, you and Roone put our blankets out. LeChamb, love, we need more firewood.”
The large man winked and ducked out, taking a lantern, a small axe they had brought along on the quest, and Jin.
“Xiath? Can you see to getting that furniture scrubbed? I don’t want to eat in filth.”
“Of course, Elder.”
After some swift cleaning, the cabin was bearable, so everyone ate a quick meal and bedded down for the night. Thad was dreaming when screams woke him. He sat up on his blankets and took a heartbeat before he remembered where he was. Pim. He raced into her room and almost tripped over Siri and Kal, who had bedded down on the floor near the youngling. Dawn crept in the small window, creating shadowy images. Pim was on her bed, huddled against the wall. Her eyes bulged with fright.
Siri got to her first and coddled her until she calmed. “What is it, child? Bad dreams?”
Pim pulled away and brushed a hand across her brow. “I don’t know.”
She began to shake so Thad gave Siri a blanket to wrap around the youngling as the others gathered in the small room. “Probably fright, lass. From everything you’ve been through. That causes nightmares sometimes.” He placed a brief hand on Pim’s forehead. Her skin was cool. She allowed him to raise her skirts to inspect his handiwork. A thin scar, nothing more.
She gazed at her leg then at Thad. “That amazing! How did you do that?”
“We can discuss that later,” Siri said in a Gypsy mother tone. “Right now, I need to know what frightened you.”
“You got the sight.” Pim’s blue eyes widened.
“Yes, lass.”
“You used the sight on me. That you did. Then he was coming for me. I knew something was wrong when I woke and saw that bloody being skulking in the shadows.”
Siri gave Thad a curious glance before focusing on the youngling again. “Who was coming for you, child?”
Pim gave her an alarmed stare. “Death.”
Chapter 12
It was just before midday meal and Maesa’s eyes ached from reading the journals in Zarenia’s library. She hadn’t slept well at all the previous night and missed Adelsik and Henny more than she ever thought possible. The three had become like sisters. Despite Adelsik’s recent rise to new-oathed status, she still confided in Maesa, treated her like an equal. Her slumbering abilities were severely limited but Adelsik managed to visit her each night, and though Maesa couldn’t enter another’s dream without assistance, she remembered those conversations. The two had visited secretly in the Netherworld since Adelsik learned how to find Maesa and enter her dreams.
Cass caught in her thoughts, as well. The woman had become friends with Adelsik, though not as close as most sisters, and she was kind to Maesa and Henny. In fact, she had thanked Maesa for revealing Adelsik and the other slumberers to her, though that day was forever burned in Maesa’s mind and body as a transgression she would never make again. She had wept for days as she scrubbed the privies and endured Adelsik’s outraged silence. Thankfully, they had all made up and outgrown such childish behavior.
She turned the last page of this journal and shook her head when Zarenia gave her an inquisitive look. “Nothing here.”
Raith had gone with Elder Yuri and the warrior Bone to search the far areas of the grounds. Zaren, Zarenia’s father, had kept meticulous notes in journals found hidden in his desk, but nothing more, so far, about the ancient texts. She rubbed her eyes and moved closer to the window where Zarenia sat. She studied the gold ring that encircled the third finger of the woman�
��s right hand. How could she have missed that, the resemblance to the life circles? Plain and flat. The ring was so simple, and other than its gold makeup, not at all like a highborn woman of Zarenia’s status would wear.
“Your ring.” She still felt a bit of awe for the woman now that she’d seen her home and her wealth. Then she silently chided herself. Zarenia was her kin now, her former clan sister, soon to be a Gypsy sister if Maesa ever moved out of youngling status. She fought a groan as she focused on the raven-haired woman. Even tired, Zarenia looked beautiful. Maesa had always been plain, her dark locks her only gracious feature. She wondered what it was like to have men stare when she entered a room.
Zarenia offered a weary smile as she studied the gold ring on her finger, and Maesa felt guilty thinking such thoughts. This woman had lost her entire root family to a plague, even her betrothed, before she ever reached the Land of the Goddess.
“I refused to wear this after my mother’s death.” Zarenia’s northern drawl was much harsher than Tsianina’s island lilt. As though I would be doing something disrespectful by putting it on.” Maesa understood that and she nodded. “But I’m Demargina now.”
“And you’re doing a fine job.”
“I realize how difficult this is for you.” Green eyes set in creamy skin studied Maesa. “Still a youngling. I wish I could treat you as an equal, share my intimate thoughts.” Zarenia leaned close. “I’m willing to do that in private, if you don’t tell anyone. After all, we were clan sisters. I know I can trust you with my very life. And the rules have changed a bit, what with our situation now.”
“Yes, you can tell me anything.” Maesa made a circle over her heart. “And I promise I won’t betray your confidence.” Then she chuckled and studied her fingers. “Well, that was childish of me.”
“Yes. But that’s what I like about you. You’re not afraid of being childish on occasion. You’re honest with your feelings and don’t seem to care what others think. I wish I had that freedom.”
That statement went straight to Maesa’s heart and she placed a comforting hand over Zarenia’s. “You can in private. I won’t reveal anything you don’t wish me to. I mean that.” She smiled and felt somewhat normal for the first time since she had seen Birek last.
“You are very compassionate, Maesa. You’ll make a fine mind-healer.”
She fought the heat in her face as she thanked the woman.
Zarenia let out a laugh that Maesa knew she would never show in front of her servants, with exception of Grenwin. And that woman was now a Gypsy servant, no longer bound by Pashdad laws. “I look forward to the day you become new-oathed, Maesa.”
“So do I.”
Zarenia’s pale face grew solemn. “Without a mate or an heir, my task here is that much more difficult.”
“And with Gypsy ties, your mate will have to be kin. Or at least someone who agrees to take servant oaths.” The way many of Zarenia’s own servants scurried out of her way, finding a husband that wouldn’t flee could prove difficult. Many still didn’t trust Gypsies, especially here in Pashdad.
“If only my father were still here.”
“Why not ask for assistance from one of the Elders?”
The pale woman smiled and shook her head. “I can’t seek such advice in front of my servants and those who have pledged to serve Pashdad. Not yet, anyway. But perhaps I might confer in private, after the house is asleep. There are many hidden passageways in this home. Many haven’t been used in a long while, since the last war.”
Since Zarenia had become new-oathed, the others showed her respect, even with strict rules keeping her near the bottom of Gypsy hierarchy. Maesa understood that if her followers were to see her taking advice from someone from outside Pashdad, someone beneath her station, she would never earn the respect she needed to rule her father’s land. Though Maesa couldn’t imagine the Gypsies allowing Zarenia to stay here. This was just one stop on a long journey.
“I can help you create a distraction for any who might become suspicious of your meetings.” Maesa realized she’d never seen Zarenia weep. If she were in this woman’s place, she might just bawl her eyes out right now.
Zarenia went on to confide, and Maesa learned that her idiot cousins hadn’t helped matters. The woman was still paying off debts they’d run up with local tailors and farmers during their stay here. Zaren hadn’t been born with rights to the Demgine title. He’d earned it from the former Sumgine of Trinedad, for his tactical advice during a skirmish with those from the Betweens.
“Each generation brought famine and fewer children to Trinedad and the Sumgine’s army was meager. The Betweens succumbed to several seasons of drought and was in poorer shape that Trinedad. Those from the Betweens had nothing to lose, so they tried to start a war. My father realized the kingdom was in jeopardy and offered advice that staved off war. After the first battle, families of the Betweens who didn’t starve abandoned that area for Trinedad, eagerly paying tribute to Sumgine Pelerin to avoid death or banishment.”
Maesa listened intently and used tricks from lessons with other mind-healers to remember what Zarenia told her. She wished she had memorization skills like Taniras, but she had studied enough history in her root years to know how to keep events straight in her mind.
“Trinedad was failing, though, so the Sumgine divided her into three provinces: Vindad, Sithdad and Pashdad. He ruled the first two but gave my father a portion of Pashdad and the Demgine title as payment. Demgine Zaren and Demargina Dasilia offered their first-born daughter, me, as future wife for the Sumgine’s infant son, Faban, thus securing a future for their heirs. This pleased the Sumgine, and the three provinces lived in harmony, prospering from my father’s sound advice. Until the plague.”
Maesa had no idea how to respond to the tale so she simply placed a comforting had on Zarenia’s arm. The woman smiled at her then rang for tea. Quietly, they took up more journals. The pale woman held up a particularly old one, written well before her birth, and she carefully turned the pages while Maesa looked on.
“What’s that one?”
“My grandfather’s journal. I never knew him, my father’s father. He died before my birth. This one is written in the old Trinedad language, not the trade language we use today. You wouldn’t be able to translate. Would you like me to read it to you?”
“I would be honored.”
Zarenia swallowed and began, pausing every now and then as she translated certain words. “There comes a day in every man’s life, when he must make decisions that tear his insides and quiver his guts into a mass of guilt. She can’t stay here, not now, not with the Sumgine sending messengers around Trinedad in search of traitors. If anyone learns of her witchery, then the Sumgine will surely have her head and perhaps ours as well. I will not allow all that I have built for my family, though it be meager by any noble man’s measure, destroyed because of this. She understands and has agreed to live near the edge of the forest. No one ventures near the swamp anymore. She will be left alone. How this tears at my heart. My pregnant wife has wept for the last three sunsets, but I mustn’t let her sway me. I cannot save everyone, though my heart wishes that were so. But I can keep my wife and my future child alive.”
Zarenia turned the page but there was nothing more. “Evin. He must have been writing about Evin, the swamp witch, my first tutor in the Energy. So he sent her to live alone to save the family from the Sumgine’s guards.” She gave Maesa a look that resembled a lost child. “The unborn infant he wrote of must have been my father, for he was the first in his line. Why would Grandfather take such an interest in Evin, and especially risking Sumgine’s wrath?”
“Perhaps she was his former nurse or that of his wife’s. He would be loyal to her then.” Maesa knew of Evin. Zarenia had been generous telling about the witch who’d trained her before Haranda became her clan mother.
Zarenia nodded. “Perhaps you’re right.” She fingered the worn leather that bound the yellowed pages together. “I never knew my grandmother,
either. Father told me she died of heartache after her husband was gone. I didn’t know any of my root kin beyond my father’s generation.” She carefully looked through the pages again as Maesa studied her. “He never made another entry in this journal.”
Maesa had another idea. “He wrote that Evin was sent away because of her witchery. She was an errant Gypsy. She could easily have lived a very long life and maybe he knew that. That would have drawn suspicion. If she knew about the ancient text, perhaps she took it.”
The midday meal bell rang and Zarenia glanced out the library window. “We should go to her cottage. See what we can find.”
The two headed out, passing the guard outside the library door. The man nodded in respect and followed them to the banquet hall, where the others were gathering. Zarenia made her way to Elder Yuri and leaned close to his ear. She said something, most likely telling him about Maesa’s idea. He smiled and nodded then took a place behind one of the chairs. All waited until Zarenia sat before taking their own seats at the table. Once the food was served, the woman dismissed her house servants.
“You have something to tell us, Zarenia?” Yuri’s tone was that of a Gypsy Elder now that the house servants had gone.
“Yes.” The pale woman scanned each of her kin, until her eyes met Maesa’s. Maesa smiled with encouragement and the gaze moved on. “I wish to go to Evin’s house. Out at the edge of the forest, near the swamp. I’ve been reading my father’s journals, as you all know. Maesa assisted me today and we came across an entry from my grandfather. He was the one who sent Evin away, to keep the family safe. He knew about her talent with the Energy. Perhaps there was more to her banishment than I first thought, as Maesa pointed out to me.”
Elder D’Esher cocked her head as she studied Maesa and her red hair fell over one shoulder. It was all Maesa could do not to squirm under that intrusive gaze, a gaze that every Gypsy above new-oathed seemed to possess. The tall Elder could be as intimidating as Siri, and Maesa breathed easier when those burrowing eyes went back to Zarenia. “You think the text might be there?”
