Memory of Morning

by Susan Sizemore

  "I will organize this expedition, Dr. Cliff," Mistress Reed said. "And I will accompany you."

  I looked at North as Mistress Reed hurried away, snapping orders to her staff.

  "There's a Red Fever outbreak in the riot area. Make sure any guards you send with us have been vaccinated."

  He nodded. I nodded. We proceeded to our separate tasks.

  Chapter Forty

  Smoke covered the moons. A hot summer wind fed the flames rising up ahead of our little caravan. The street we used was empty, but our way wouldn't be unobstructed for much longer. Shouting, the sound of breaking glass, and the occasional shot could be heard up ahead. We had two donkey carts and a dozen people. Mistress Reed drove one of the carry carts. I walked a few feet behind the armed guards in front. We had guards flanking us, and bringing up the rear, as well. We paused at every cross street to check for ambushes. I would have preferred our moving a faster, but it was best to proceed with some caution.

  Lord North walked beside me. He was a very angry man.

  Being near him was almost worse than the dread of what was ahead. His mood washed over me in waves that made me so nervous I finally had to break the silence. "What?"

  "Mind your tongue," he snapped back.

  "I think not." I ignored the quelling look he gave me down that imperious long nose of his. I glared back until he gave me what I accepted as an apologetic nod. "You had news you disliked before we left Mercy Home. It will be bad for everyone here if you let your temper cloud your judgment."

  After a moment he gave an explosive sigh. "Can't argue with that, as much as I'd like to. The head of the Loudon home guard refused to send more people to the Eastside. What he's done instead is block all the bridges and put patrols on the river and canal. He intends to contain rather than control. He says it'll all burn itself out."

  "Was he referring to the buildings, or the tension that caused all this?"

  "Both, I imagine. It's been declared the guard and apprehenders are to protect the Westside rather than try to stop the poor neighborhoods from going up in flames. I do not particularly wish to go up in flames. Do you?"

  "No, sir, I do not."

  Though I knew that Jame Field would not approve of being sent away from hazardous duty, I was rather glad to have him out of danger, especially in the mood he'd been in when we'd parted.

  I asked North," What are you doing about this?"

  "Sent a message to Lord Eagle to send in a barge of marines."

  "Did you remember to say the marines had to be vaccinated?"

  "You know they all are."

  "Vaccinated and proven immune," I elaborated.

  "They're marines. They'll take their chances with the Red Fever."

  I stopped arguing about something I could do nothing about. "At least more help is on the way."

  "If Eagle listens. He's less fond of me than the Dowager is, but duty is important to him."

  "I see." I didn't.

  After we'd walked along in silence for a bit, he said, "Your curiosity is giving me a headache."

  "You shouldn't be enigmatic if you don't want curiosity." I held up a hand. "Not that you should indulge my curiosity. Nobles' secrets are dangerous for the likes of me to know."

  He snorted. "The likes of you, indeed. You have no notion of your place in the scheme of things."

  I snorted back. "A new-made squire's daughter? Oh, yes, very important. Don't tease me by hinting that I hold the keys to the world in my possession."

  North waved our caravan onward, and drew me into the shadow of a building as they passed. From the corner of my eye I noticed Mistress Reed gesture to me to come along, but there was no breaking the hold North had on my arm. There was no moving away from his intensity.

  "Blood holds the key to everything," he said. "Blood, and the Red Fever. You have to pay more attention to the fact that your blood is precious. You are young and attractive, along with having spirit and intelligence. Most importantly, you have a gift of life you will pass on to future generations. Consider how important that is, Seeker Cliff. Consider not who wants you, but who needs you. And recall that we nobles make a rivalry of collecting valuable objects."

  I nodded as his words sank in. I was not surprised that someone of Lord North's rank knew about the gift we Cliffs and several other families carried in our blood. As I have said before, it is not a secret. And it had never occurred to me to think of the immunity from the plague having anything to do with me personally. It is not that I am naive and all that altruistic - I am as selfish, ambitious, and greedy as anyone else - it is that we Cliffs tend to think as a unit rather than about what's advantageous for our particular selves.

  Whether Lord North was giving me a warning, making a threat, or giving advice, I did not have time to find out. The sound of marching feet came from behind us, ending this private moment.

  "Get to your post," Lord North told me.

  I went one way. He went to join up with the marines.

  We set up in a looted shop a block off Madder Square, with guards posted outside to make sure it did not also become a burned shop. The silver-on-red medical aid banner we nailed up on the wall beside the door gave us even more protection, and soon drew injured and volunteer helpers to us. Not everyone in East Loudon had gone mad.

  But fighting did come raging by our door. Looters ran by with full arms, and hauling carts of spoils. People shouted and waved torches. Gangs and individuals fought with fists and knives outside. Occasionally, I made out a gunshot punctuating the general roar.

  I'd had practice in working in chaos, and was able to function without paying it too much mind. Mistress Reed, working beside me, did the same.

  "Were you in the navy?" I asked when we had a moment between patients.

  "Marine nurse," she answered.

  I grinned. "So is my sister-in-law."

  "So I have heard. Her mother brings us donations of bread from time to time."

  This was all the conversation we had time for, as a pair of bleeding men were carried inside. One was dead within a few moments. The other had his guts slashed open. I set to work doing what I could for him. In the background I heard the guards talking.

  "Madman with a knife got both of them."

  "There's at least one more body out there, where the street enters the square."

  "Dr. Cliff! The stretcher bearers can't get past fighting that's between them and a patient! Should we go?"

  "No!" Mistress Reed called out. I heard her moving to the doorway. "I can sneak over and have a look at him. Hand me that medical bag."

  She left. I finished a quick cleaning and stitching of the abdominal wound. "Stretcher!" I called when I was done. "Get him to Mercy Home as quickly as possible."

  A nurse was waiting with a vinegar-soaked towel. She scrubbed blood off my hands while I looked around for my next task. "Mistress Reed isn't back yet?" I asked when I didn't see her. I didn't know how much time had passed since she'd gone outside. Maybe the itch of worry at her absence was my imagination. I moved toward the doorway, and was relieved to hear orders being shouted outside. The marines had made it to Madder Square. There were no patients waiting that the nurses couldn't handle, so I ventured outside to look for Mistress Reed.

  The fires of burning buildings gave off enough light to see, though the shadows were deep and swayed eerily. I stepped into this shadow-dance and moved toward the square. I stayed close to the wall, aware of angry faces and wild eyes on people in the center of the street. There were not enough passersby coming from the square to be called a mob, not even a crowd, really. These were the sensible ones, I hoped, people who had listened when the marines told them to disperse and were on their way home. They were still angry. They could still turn dangerous. I didn't want to draw attention by moving through them in the opposite direction.

  It took me longer than I liked to spot Mistress Reed bent over a patient on the opposite side of the street.

  Only - she wasn't bent over the patient,
she was sprawled on top of him. All over her back darker stains covered her gray dress. Dark marks that had nothing to do with the shadows.

  I gasped. Then I ran.

  I bumped into people, and pushed them aside. One lifted an arm to strike me, but a glare was all it took to stop her. She glanced to where I was heading, gave a horrified shriek, and ran away.

  I dropped to one knee beside the bodies on the cobbles. My hands searched along Reed's back to find the extent of the wounds. In a moment I knew she was dead.

  The man on the ground beneath Mistress Reed groaned. I started to move her body to get to him, but looked up as a moving shadow caught my attention. A man ran toward me, his arm raised. I jumped up, almost tripped on the hem of my dress, and this wobble saved me as a flint knife came down toward me. The air swished as the stone blade barely missed the side of my throat.

  I grabbed Mistress Reed's medical bag, held it before me as shield. I caught a glimpse of the attacker's face in a patch of firelight. His features held no expression, but there was unstoppable fury in his huge eyes.

  Madman with a knife, the guard had said. Cinder, he should have said. Then maybe I wouldn't have ventured out on my own.

  The force of the man's next stabbing swing nearly knocked the bag out of my hands. I ducked and swerved and backed a step at a time. The knife came down, and down. His arm rose again.

  Though there were people in the street, I expected no help from any who saw what was attacking me.

  "Help!" I called anyway.

  "Down!" North shouted behind me.

  I immediately dropped to the ground. Even so, the bullet whizzed by close over me as I fell.

  I heard the thud of a lead bullet penetrating bone and recognized the sound of a head shot. I was not surprised to see the large black hole in the center of my attacker's forehead as he fell slowly to the ground. There was very little blood, as the already dead have no need to bleed.

  I kept hold of the slashed medical kit and went back to the wounded man lying on the street. Only to recognize him and freeze, staring, while anger boiled up from my gut, into my head. Outrage poured all through me. And hatred. It took all the strength I could muster not to lash out with a hard kick at Cleric Moor lying helplessly before me.

  I started to turn away.

  Lord North ran up. He took my arm, holding on so hard it hurt. "You're all right."

  I was not used to him sounding breathless and excited.

  I looked at him, saw the worry in his eyes, and nodded. "Thank you. Again."

  "I don't mind making a habit of it."

  I wanted to put my arms around him - around someone - and hold on tight.

  "She's dead," I said. "Mistress Reed is dead. The cinder killed her, but it was his fault."

  I couldn't blame the cinder - though I shouldn't call the madman by that common, rude term. It wasn't his fault he'd lived through a case of Red Fever only to have his intelligence burned away by the long, high fever brought by the plague. Most of these afflicted victims are quiet and harmless. A few turn violent. Succor Home, a few blocks away, took care of some of these dangerous cases. The dead man must have escaped in the riot, and found a knife. He couldn't help what he did then.

  North looked down, first at the man he'd shot, then at Moor. "This is the cleric who shouted at me."

  "He caused the riot," I said. "He's been working on it for weeks." I glanced at the fires climbing the sky. "He caused so much more."

  "He's breathing. Shouldn't you be doing something?"

  I stubbornly refused to move. "How much of the city is burning?" I asked in turn. "How many are dead? Homeless? Hurt? A good woman is dead. Let Moor die. I don't care."

  North's hand stayed firmly locked around my upper arm. He wouldn't let me when I would have walked away. "You made a vow, Surgeon Cliff."

  My gaze flashed angrily to his. "So?"

  "Treat him," North said. "For the sake of the vow. I don't care if he lives. Tomorrow you'll care if you do nothing now and he doesn't make it."

  So I would. I wish he hadn't reminded me of my conscience. My vow.

  I let out a sobbing gasp. You can't pick and choose your patients once you've made the vow.

  All the resistance went out of me. Not the urge for vengeance.

  I went down on my knees, and opened the medical kit. Before I went to work on Moor, I said. "He ought to be tried for incitement."

  "He will be."

  "Lord North, promise me you'll see that he hangs if he lives."

  I thought I heard him mutter, "You could ask me for more pearls, gel, but if this will make you happier..."

  Chapter Forty-One

  Cleric Moor did not die under my hands that night. I stitched him up, medicated him, and left it for others to care for him. The next day Gracers came to Mercy Home and took him to a private medical home. They went under the protest of the doctor on duty at the time. I might not have offered any argument that it was dangerous to move him, so I was glad the duty was someone else's.

  I ended up grateful to Lord North for reminding me of my honor. Well, and saving my life.

  As for Mistress Reed, the Gray Women took her body away and did not speak of her to any of the rest of us who worked at Mercy Home. Not that they ever spoke more than necessary anyway. Whatever funeral rites they performed for her passing were not for outsiders. So, the rest of us organized a Passing Song service for her in the goddess of death's chapel at First Temple, with Belladem's apprentice to sing the Last Song for her.

  Several members of my family attended the rite, including my parents and Rassi's mother. My mother was among those who spoke memories of Mistress Reed, which is how I found out that she and the Gray Woman had exchanged letters and conversations discussing theology for many years. Jame Field also attended. We spoke briefly afterwards, and exchanged a stiff hug, but went our separate ways with no real communication. Just as well, as I sensed that any conversation would turn into an argument over the causes and results of the rioting. Some of the fires were still smoldering. The whole of Loudon reeked of smoke. There was martial law in effect in the Eastside now. A show of Imperial authority the Gracers had been working for was my suspicion, though of course I had no proof. If I had been truly cynical I would have suspected that Lord North had been part of getting the riot going. But I was not that cynical.

  After the ceremony it was decided that it was best not to mention performing this traditional temple rite to the Gray Women, not knowing if it clashed with their secretive beliefs. It gave those of us who'd worked with her, and respected her, some comfort. I gave a donation of beeswax candles to Light Her Way for a month, and the staff made a donation to a nursing school in her name. It was all we could do, along with returning to our work at Mercy Home.

  Except I gave notice that I would be leaving sooner than I had originally planned. Mostly it was because I wanted to escape Loudon. Partially, it was my lawyer's recommendation.

  The annoyance came about because the Imperial College of Surgeons found out about my emergency aid station and protested that this was a violation of the surgeons' certification only allowing me to practice on naval bases and charity homes. Rather than accept a sanction, I protested the College's assertion, and lawyers had become involved. Sigh.

  It had been agreed, reluctantly on the College's part, that the medical procedures I, a lowly woman, had performed that night had been under the sanction of my duties as a naval surgeon, since the military had been involved in quelling the riot.

  I was so very tired of everything to do with the narrow-minded, blinded-by-history, and tradition-bound bureaucracy and society of Loudon, here in the heart of the Ang Empire. Maybe the town did need burning down. Only the wrong side had felt the flames.

  I was packed and ready to take my dog and leave as soon as one last ceremony was attended. Back home to lovely radical Avan, on to the safety of Cliff House, Mother's peaceful cottage on Welis, or to practical, hard-working Seyemouth, I didn't care. Somewhere, anywh
ere, but Loudon.

  I was seated with a large crowd in the viewing area before the high altar of the great temple, nowhere close to the chapel where we'd sung out Mistress Reed. A thin border of beadwork had been added around the neckline of my primrose dress to show my fresh status. All the rest of my family were similarly and correctly bedecked.

  Today's occasion was solemn, very formal, but also the culmination of the participants' deepest hopes and dreams. This was the formal Induction ceremony for new-made and promoted nobles. The head of the College of Heralds stood amidst a gaggle of assistants, officiating, all in their jewel-bright velvets and funny hats. The Dowager Empress sat on a throne at the top of the altar steps, overseeing the ceremony. Lian Eagle, Lord West stood at her side.

  Lord North was not among the nobles present. I rather missed seeing him, in all his sharp-featured, sharp-tongued haughtiness. I'd gotten used to his presence, I suppose.

  My uncle, aunt, and father had been among the first to kneel before the Herald and accept the documents and marks of rank, as the ceremony started with the least and moved on to greater and greater heights of social ranking. The pleasure and thrill of my family's triumph had long faded to boredom for me. I was struggling to fight off melancholy. And for some reason, sitting here in view of the Dowager, a memory kept nagging at me from the night of the riot.

  What I couldn't get out of my head was a story Lord North told me as we walked behind Cleric Moor's stretcher, with a marine escort, back toward Mercy Home.