“Eat, eat,” the Mother said. “Let me pour you some water,” and she busied herself fetching the pitcher of cold water that was already in the room and pouring each of them a cup. “The convent’s well provides the sweetest water,” she said and watched as they ate and drank with vigor. “And while you eat, let me introduce someone to you. I would like you to meet Valya, our empress.”
Corbel dropped the knuckle of bread he was holding into the soup, his mouth open in astonishment as the woman who had served him pulled back the hood of her robe.
Janus took advantage of Loethar’s unconscious state.
“Well, that won a strong reaction,” Elka said, concerned.
“It’s good fun hurting the barbarian.”
“Is that your illness speaking?”
“No, it’s all me. This is the man who slaughtered hundreds of innocents.” When she raised her eyebrows doubtfully he added, “You are aware of the poem that begins ‘And the Set ran awash with its children’s blood?’ ”
Elka pinched her lips together. “Yes, I am aware of it,” she answered tersely. “But isn’t it true that Loethar only attacked soldiers who attacked his army?”
“His army attacked our soldiers first,” Janus replied, looking incredulous. “They were the invaders.”
She ignored his remark and his expression. “I wasn’t aware that he allowed any of his people to kill randomly.”
“What about the boys murdered across Penraven?” he demanded. She looked at him in query. He rolled his eyes and explained. “They say he would have killed every boy within a certain age group to be sure he had finished off the Valisar heir.”
“Janus, I’m not disputing that the man is capable of stunning ruthlessness but I would argue that any ruler is capable of the same, given the right circumstances.” She watched him stitch Loethar’s skin angrily. “Brennus might have done the same to save his people, his family.”
“I can’t say,” the physic said, shrugging. “The fact is, this man did do that and did kill a lot of our sons.”
“It was war.”
“That he brought to the Set,” Janus said, his voice gruff.
“Granted,” she replied, feeling torn. She stared at Loethar, vulnerable, near naked, totally at the mercy of Janus, she herself his only protection. “I’m sorry, Janus. I know this must be hard for you.”
He sighed. “No. When I’m working on a patient, everyone is equal. I could easily take this man’s life but I won’t, be assured. I’ll leave Lo to make that decision.”
“Thank you,” she said as Loethar groaned. “You know, when your ire is up, or you’re very focused on work, your ailment leaves you alone.”
He nodded as though he’d heard that remark before. “Here,” Janus said, offering her a tiny, silver cup. “Get this down him. He must sleep. He will heal faster if his body is at rest.”
“It is too dangerous here,” she warned.
“If that’s the case you should carry him to higher ground and hide him. But he needs a day of being still.” She nodded. “And during that time you will tell me how it passes that I am repairing the body of Emperor Loethar.”
“Have you finished stitching?”
“Yes. There is little more I can do now. I’ve realigned the bones in that hand. They’ll hurt for a while. His ribs I can do little for but he’s bound. And those other wounds are now closed properly. I had to clean them though or disease would have taken him faster than you can imagine.”
She nodded. “I know you had to do that. Hopefully he will forget the pain you inflicted without dulling it. I know you had the soporific in your bag.”
He made a fist. “Call it a small triumph for the Valisars.”
“You’re a royalist?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what I am. I was incensed, though, like most Penravians, at what was done to our royals.”
“I understand. But you admit life is prosperous beneath this man’s rule?”
“Not for me,” he said, stretching from his concentrated work.
“It wouldn’t be, though, with your problem. Your fall from grace has nothing to do with Loethar.”
Janus sighed. “True. I have to blame someone. Perhaps you’d let me feel—”
“And it seems you’ve calmed enough to be offensive again. Perhaps you should blame Lo, for cursing you with the affliction.”
“Seems rather pointless.”
“That’s right, it is. There’s nothing to be gained by shaking a fist at a god. Nothing to be gained by drinking yourself to an early death. Why not make your life count?”
“I don’t know how.”
She smiled. “But you just did. Not only have you helped a man in need but the man you aided is a powerful one. He will reward you for your compassion.”
“I don’t want his money. I want to feel the sensation of your—”
“It’s as good as the next person’s. And it’s not money I’m talking about. Take some time to get to know Loethar and I swear, Janus, your opinion may change. Things are not always as black and white as we think.”
He sat back and stared at their prone patient as Elka dribbled the dark liquid into Loethar’s mouth, gently drying his lips when it was done. “You like this man,” he stated.
She shook her head in slight bemusement, admiring Loethar’s wiry physique. In clothes he looked surprisingly undaunting but she imagined, as she stared at him, that he was probably small and fast, probably a cunning fighter too. There was no spare flesh on his body and while it was obvious that the gauntness in his face was due to recent events, she rather liked the way his cheeks looked slightly hollow, accentuating the lines on either side of his mouth. “I do,” she admitted. “There is a darkness to him but also something very pure.” Janus looked surprised, and she gave an embarrassed smile. “I can’t think of any other way to describe it. There is an honor to him that I like very much.”
“Honor, my arse!”
She nodded despite his insult. “I don’t believe Loethar lies. Maybe I’m wrong but from what I can tell he is not only a man of his word but he has no reason for guile. He is what he is, he makes no apology, he hides from no one and I regard that as a kind of purity that is attractive in a person.”
Janus shook his head in confusion. “The barbarian is asleep. Move him carefully.”
“You’re coming too?” she asked, careful not to make him feel that he owed her anything more. “You’ve done what I asked of you.”
“I have nothing else more interesting to do right now than hear your long tale. I’m fascinated to discover what has led up to me being here and it also gives me the ongoing titillation that I might just see your—”
She nodded her thanks and quickly said, “Follow me. And, Janus—”
“Yes?”
“If you say a word about my arse, I’ll wallop you.”
“Cock!”
“Pardon,” she said, glaring at him as she gently lifted Loethar.
“That slips out a lot,” he admitted.
She exploded into helpless laughter and as he realized the innuendo in his words, he picked up his bag, chuckling. “I’m glad you find me amusing.”
“I’m glad you’ve chosen to come with us.”
“It’s big but she does have a nice arse,” Loethar murmured, drifting momentarily from his sleep before his head lolled against her breast. Elka ground her jaw.
Janus couldn’t help but smile. “I’m coming along because I think he needs my assistance still,” he said.
“You see, already you’re under his spell,” she accused.
“Rubbish! The man is a tyrant. But he is just a man and I am a doctor. My conscience won’t let me leave anyone who needs my care.”
“Fair enough.” She nodded toward Loethar in her arms. “He can get away with it because he’s drugged and isn’t fully aware of what he’s gabbling about, but if you mention my backside, I will hurt you.”
Janus pursed his lips to make it plain to her that he would try.
&
nbsp; Chapter Eleven
The Abbess smiled. “My, my, but I can see we have shocked you, Regor.”
Corbel had stood as he’d hastily swallowed. The stew tasted sour in his mouth suddenly as he regarded the darkly attractive woman in the robes. He aged her in her fourth decade though she looked better than most women in their third. But despite her good looks there was something mean in the cut of her mouth, something cruel in the eyes that glinted defiantly. “Should I bow?” he asked, trying to buy himself some time.
“Not here,” Valya replied with a lazy smile. “I am simply one of the women of the convent. As you can see,” she said, pointing to the tray. “Regor,” she said, tasting the name. “No relation to Regor de Vis, I hope?” she continued, raising an eyebrow.
Corbel gave a short gust of a laugh. He hoped it sounded vaguely ironic rather than angry, which is how it felt. “That’s the second time the former Legate has been mentioned to me,” he said, feigning bemusement. From the corner of his eye he saw Evie watching him carefully. He couldn’t believe they were in the same chamber as one of the designers of the overthrow of the Valisars. Word had traveled to them through spies that Valya, princess of Cremond, was moving with the barbarian horde. It had seemed unthinkable at first but his father had then told him the story of Brennus breaking his pledge to the Cremond Crown to marry its daughter and how that had affected the young woman, broken her relationship with her parents, broken her faith. Corbel believed he could see the history of her pain reflected in the slight sneer that seemed to be her normal expression.
“He was a fine man,” the Abbess commented. She smiled. “It’s all right, we can speak freely before Valya; she has reason to have changed her loyalties.”
Corbel was glad the Abbess had jumped to the wrong conclusion. “You knew the Legate?” he continued.
“Not personally, no. I knew of him and our convent felt the effects of his generosity and that of the Crown. Regor de Vis was a man to admire no matter what creed or race. He was one of those rare individuals who are noble in the heart, not just in name.”
“Lo keep his soul,” Barro said reverently.
Corbel had to bite the inside of his lip to stop any emotion showing. “I . . . er, I wish I had been named for him now. No, I’m just an ordinary Regor. Perhaps my parents were impressed by the Legate.”
Valya regarded him. “You have a noble manner about you.”
He made a scoffing sound that he hoped masked the choke he felt at his throat. “Noble? No, just a good family. Why are you here, if it’s not a rude question?”
“I have been banished from Loethar’s court,” she said plainly and he noticed she didn’t seem embarrassed so much as angry. “I failed him by giving him a daughter recently.” She motioned toward the swelling at her belly, and Corbel realized she must have given birth recently. “She died. They say the Valisars could never hold onto a girl child but our child was not Valisar. I’m of the opinion that it’s that wretched palace at Penraven. It reeks of death.”
“Valya, my dear, don’t get yourself upset,” the Abbess soothed sounding tense. She looked at Corbel. “The empress is spending some time with us.”
“Don’t call me that, Mother. He doesn’t view me that way any longer.” Her voice sounded weary.
Corbel knew she referred to Loethar.
“And still you are the empress . . . in name, in status, and in marriage,” the Abbess said in her kind tone.
Evie stood suddenly. “Are you feeling faint?”
Valya glared at her. “How would you know?”
Evie gave a crooked smile. “I’m . . . I’m a healer. Your pallor is a strong indication that you need rest.”
“A healer,” the Abbess remarked with wonder. “So young?”
Evie shrugged. “The empress should not be working.”
Valya sneered audibly. “The people who brought me here insisted I be given work.”
The Abbess nodded unhappily. “It’s true. We’re trying to follow orders without—”
“Low-born scum!” Valya snarled, grabbing her belly and swaying slightly.
Evie was at her side in a blink, holding her. “Please, sit,” she said, indicating her chair. “Mother, regardless of what was ordered, I would hazard a guess that the empress has lost a lot of blood. She should be recuperating, not waiting on visitors.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” the Mother said helplessly.
“Is she under guard?” Evie demanded.
“No. But we gave our word,” the Abbess replied.
Evie snorted. “Well, I am giving new orders. Until Valya is fully recovered from the trials of her labor and birth, and I’m happy that her blood levels are returning to some normality, I will not permit her to be anywhere else but off her feet and resting.”
Her instructions were met with silence. Corbel saw the Abbess and Valya exchange a tense, confused glance. Before they could react, Barro spoke up.
“Er, Evie is a talented healer,” he explained, nodding at Corbel.
“Despite her age, she’s rather senior in her sanatorium. She’s used to people listening to her advice,” Corbel said, apology in his tone. “Evie, you are no longer running your special healing service as you did from Galinsea.”
She looked abashed. “Yes,” she stammered. “Forgive me, please. I do forget myself.”
“She has an almost magical talent for curing ills,” Corbel explained hastily, flashing a fearful glance at Evie. “That’s why I brought her with me. I’d like to set up a sanatorium,” he blurted, reaching desperately for excuses.
“Lo, be praised!” the Abbess pronounced, clasping her hands. “Bless you both for such philanthropy.”
Mercifully, Valya announced that she was feeling nauseous and the Abbess was diverted, springing into action and summoning help. Valya was bundled away hastily, and Corbel was relieved he didn’t have to explain why Evie had left Galinsea, or was traveling with him, or even why they were in Penraven.
Once Valya was gone, the Abbess took a breath, smiled uneasily and then apologized. “I’m trapped somewhat. I gave my word to the emperor, via his emissary, that I would provide succor for Valya but that she would never leave here. It is not his intention to make her suffer physically, you see, but he is punishing her mentally I suppose. There is more to Valya’s tale than she presents. She is accused of murdering the emperor’s mother . . . and between us, she doesn’t deny it, even though she refuses to directly answer the accusation. Frankly, I think the emperor has behaved rather decently. He could have ordered her head so easily. She is well cared for here, though she would probably argue that she is a prisoner.”
Evie looked to be doing her best to understand. “But surely you can see that she is not well enough, Mother, to be doing anything.”
The Abbess nodded. “I can, but you see, Evie, my child, I have no idea if the emperor or his factions have spies in here. And the emperor has decreed that Valya be useful; that she is not to be waited upon or treated with deference but that she must fit in as best she can to the life of the convent.”
“I see,” Corbel said, frowning.
“Why did the baby—?” Evie asked.
The Abbess held up a hand to stop Evie’s question. She sighed to cover her hesitation. “Valya doesn’t wish anyone to discuss it. Understandably, she is deeply upset. If she chooses to tell you more, that’s her choice.”
“You will have to watch her, Mother,” Evie warned. She glanced at Corbel. “I may be telling you something you already know but some women can have a strange perspective on the world after having a baby. It’s to do with their hor—” She stopped herself and frowned. “Well, we’re not fully sure yet,” she explained and Corbel felt relief that she’d caught herself in time. “The body has its own way of tackling trauma,” she continued. “Experience now tells us that some women can go mad, can certainly start acting strangely—out of character, I mean—and are capable of dangerous decisions regarding themselves.”
“Waning
,” Mother commented, nodding.
“What?” Evie queried, looking between them.
Corbel leaped to her rescue. “They don’t call it the same thing in Galinsea, Mother. Over there it’s known as being depressed, as in forced down.”
“Really?”
Evie nodded, looking grateful to Corbel for his help. “A depression, yes, and . . . er, well, that situation can be responsible for some unpredictable moods and actions.”
“Thank you, your advice is helpful. Now, please, your food has gone cold.”
“We’re happy to eat it exactly as it is, Mother. Please don’t worry,” Corbel assured. “We are very grateful for your generosity. And speaking of your generosity, you were talking about the other Regor who was here, that he met the Qirin.” She nodded. “Is it possible for us to speak with her?”
“She sees those she wishes to. I am happy to petition her on your behalf.”
“Please,” he said, spooning up the last mouthfuls of stew. He noted happily that Evie was also quickly swallowing down her food. They both needed full bellies and no meal should be wasted when they didn’t know where the next was coming from.
She rang a bell. “Our Qirin is contrary at times but her whole reason for being is to answer the unanswerable.” She looked up at another knock. “Ah, Margrey. Please take my guests to our visitor wing. See to it that they have fresh water for bathing and please launder their clothes, provide whatever they need.”
Margrey nodded. “Please, follow me.”
As they stood, Barro belched gently and grinned at the Abbess. “Thank you again for the meal.”
She smiled at him. “I’ll take that as another compliment.”
Corbel bowed slightly. “Thank you, Mother.”
“You’re most welcome.”
“If I may, I would like to leave a donation to the convent.”
She smiled. “You may,” she said. “Feel free to stay a day or two. I would be pleased if you would visit Valya,” she said to Evie.
“I will look in on her, Mother,” Evie promised.
“And I hope you will not forget us. We look forward to hearing about your progress with the sanatorium. I would recommend basing it in the north. The water is so pure here. Precisely what patients from the city require.”
King’s Wrath Page 14
