by Cat Bruno
“Bronwen, wait one moment, please. Master Tywinne, if you do not mind, I believe that we should take a vote now. Enough time has been wasted already, and still the king worsens. We have heard enough, I think. Moons ago, we should have done more, as I was advised. Yet, I did not act quickly enough then, and I will not see the same mistake made twice.”
Rova had been walking as he talked, shuffling across the room, and Bronwen winced as she watched him. Some days, his legs seemed fine, with no hint of pain, and then others, like today, his legs seemed heavy and unmoving beneath him. As he neared her, Bronwen’s guilt grew, until her stomach tightened and churned. Yet, she knew that she was too far to turn back now, so she tried to ignore the pain and shame as she waited for him to near her, graciously accepting the gentle arm he placed around her shoulders when he was near enough to do so.
“Bronwen, I believe that you are ready for your journey. I believe that if you cannot save the king, then no one else would be able to either. This is your journey, and you have my support, and my vote, if that is what is needed,” he added, looking toward Tywinne.
With his arm still around her, Rova faced the other Masters and said, “I have known Bronwen for as long as she has been here. Her skills are strong, as strong as any of us here. Stronger than many, I would even say. There is something that feels right about sending her to the King’s City. I have long wondered what her arrival at the Academy meant for us, but for her as well. Let her be our ambassador. Let her show Rexterra what it is that we do here. I can think of none better than Bronwen to represent what is best about the Academy. And, none can deny the timing of the matter, either. She was slated to leave. She travels early, and we aid the king. It seems as if our decision is an easy one, Masters.” Tywinne raised his eyebrows after Rova had finished then looked back at the table, where the other healers still sat, listening and watching both Rova and Bronwen.
When she looked across the room, her eyes found Willem’s and she nearly cried aloud as she found herself longing to address him. For moon years, he was no more than Master Ammon to her, yet over the last few moons, nearly everything had changed between them. As she stared at him, she knew that all had changed for him as well. He had kept much from her, including his knowledge of Conri, yet she realized that he meant her no harm. Bronwen did not doubt that he would have gone with her to Eirrannia, had that been what she wanted. The Academy was not home for him, nor would it ever be. With her gone, she wondered what would become of him, and the thought filled her with despair.
As Bronwen watched Willem from across the room, it seemed as if none of the other Masters existed. She could hear voices around her, but none were his. Come with me, she wordlessly pleaded.
Yet, the words would not come, and she looked away from him then, forcing herself to forget his late night promises.
Tywinne’s booming voice startled her from her thoughts as he called, “Let us be done with it then. I no longer see a reason to delay the vote.”
Bronwen was still near the door, standing silently, unable to beg her case anymore than she had. As Tywinne called out the names of those gathered around the table, she held her breath, knowing that her future as Master Healer depended on what would be decided.
Each name he called was greeted with a nod, and, with few words exchanged, all present, even Master Ellaine, who still looked at her with concern, voted aye. When the tally was complete, Rova embraced her, so suddenly that she could not keep the confusion from her face.
Into her ear, he whispered, “I know there is much that you have not told me. But, I know that you must have your reasons, and I believe that you did not misspeak earlier. Your path is before you. Not one that I would have chosen for you, perhaps, but, in the end, we must go where our heart leads. Keep the light at your back, even in the darkness that you will face. Let the light guide you. Go with my blessing, child, and my love, and remember all that you have learned. At all times, adhere to your vows, Bronwen.”
His words, ones that she knew he wanted none to overhear, were somber ones, as if she was unlikely to return to the Academy, she thought.
With Rova’s arm still around her, Bronwen wondered what the next moon year would bring. Her life, god-touched as Aldric claimed, seemed as if it was no longer her own.
From behind the table, Tywinne called to her, “Bronwen, meet me in my office on the morrow, before the eighth bell rings. We will finalize all that needs to be done. You will leave three mornings hence, and no one can know, not even your foster mother. As difficult as that might be, you will only tell her or any who ask that your Healer Journey is to begin.”
With a hoarse voice, she answered, “Of course, Master Tywinne. I will be there on the morrow.”
He nodded, and his nod was as dismissive as the wooden hammer had it been banged on the table. Rova released her, and, without looking back for Willem, she hurried from the room, shaking. Just steps from the hall, a voice sang out, calling her name. When she turned, it was Master Ellaine, who had followed her.
As the woman stepped toward her, she said, “Bronwen, this is a dangerous game you play, one that you do not even know is being played. We know little of what is going to be required of you, and nothing of who sent the letter. I might have voted in favor of sending you, but I did so with hesitation. I feel as if we are sending a lamb to slaughter.”
Moons before, Bronwen’s reply would have differed, yet, now, she said, “I am no lamb, nor am I naïve as to where it is that I go.”
“The King’s City is unlike any other place in Cordisia, and, unless I am wrong, you have not once been outside of the Academy since beginning here.”
Ellaine’s words were meant to be further warning, yet Bronwen countered, “I am healer-trained, and little more than that matters to me. I care not who sits the throne.”
Grabbing at her arm, Ellaine hissed, “Don’t be foolish! Nothing is so simple in Rexterra, even for those with vows. From all reports, the king is near death. If you are unable to heal him, questions will be asked. And, if you are able to find what ails him and treat it, more questions will be asked. You will have no friends there, Bronwen, and must trust no one.”
When she did not answer, Ellaine continued, “The king will have healer and mage both at his bedside. Do not make the mistake of thinking you can confide in all who wear our robes. You are there to heal the king, and nothing else. If you discover that there is nothing to be done for him, then you must leave at once.”
With a laugh, Bronwen finally responded. “You make it seem as if I am leaving for war.”
Squeezing her arm harder, Ellaine hissed, “Do not think to fool me as you have the others! I mean you no harm, but I know why you are in such a hurry to leave. Men can be blind at times to what stands in front of them. I know you are with child, and that only makes my concern more grave.”
For a moment, the silence between the two women was heavy with accusation. Finally, it was Bronwen who spoke.
“I am not the first healer to find herself so, nor will I be the last. But I am healer still, and have had no ill effects so far. If I did not think that I could make it to Rexterra, then I would not have volunteered.”
Dropping her arm, Ellaine asked, “Do any other Masters know of the babe?”
“No,” Bronwen lied.
With a huff, Elllaine said, “So a moon year from now, you will return with a babe at your breast. What then?”
Her voice high and strained, Bronwen answered, “I have done all that is required of me, and will continue to do so, including spending a full moon year in travel. When I return, what choice will the Master Council have but to name me Master?”
Shaking her head, the other woman said, “This is a dangerous risk you take, Bronwen, but you are not wrong. The council would agree.”
Stepping back from her, Ellaine looked as if she would leave, yet asked, “What of the babe’s father? Does he know of your plans?”
An image of Conri flashed, yet Bronwen had changed much, and,
without hesitation, she calmly answered, “I know nothing of him.”
She watched as understanding crossed Ellaine’s face. Bronwen knew that she lied, and knew, too, that Ellaine now believed the babe was a result of a young woman’s folly. Yet, it mattered little, and Bronwen made no attempt to further explain.
Thinking that the conversation was over, Bronwen turned to leave. Ellaine’s next words made her stop.
“You are early still, and it would not be against your vows to drink Blood Tea.”
Having given similar advice many times over, Bronwen nodded. With emotion that she was no longer able to hide, she answered, “I have thought of little but the babe for moons now. She is not unwanted.”
“You believe it to be a girl, then?”
A smile brightened Bronwen’s face, one that few could understand, as she said, “I have seen her.”
She knew that she sounded if she was half-mad, but Ellaine reached for her, hugging her tightly, and said, “If you need anything, you must send word to me. I am not so needed here that I could not leave for a time.”
Bronwen hugged Ellaine in return, yet still her legs trembled. When she was alone once more, she again thought of the girl.
Who are you, child, that I risk so much for you?
As she walked home, she looked around, expecting the girl to appear with answers.
58
As she walked from the library, Bronwen listened as the bells chimed eleven times, surprising her that it was already midday. Her meeting with Tywinne had lasted all morning, but she felt better prepared for travel. He had given her several small books, although the two she believed that she would need most were a collection of maps and a small book of Cordisian herbs. At the Academy, there were lucky to have large gardens, yet as she traveled, it would be difficult to find the herbs she might need. In the next two days, she had much to do, including preparing her healer’s bags, which would be heavy with dried herbs and salves. She had figured that she could make what tonics whenever necessary and planned on brining several empty bottles.
She had not seen Kennet at the library but knew that he would have heard from Tywinne of her Healer Journey, although the Master would not have told him of Rexterra. She wondered how Kennet had reacted when he heard the news, as it was his idea for her to go. Bronwen had hoped to see him, but his office was empty, and, with nowhere else to go, she exited the grounds of the Academy.
Not ready to tell Sheva of her departure, she hurried along the beach, enjoying the heat of the midday sun and the bright skies overhead. Warmed by the full sun, she slowed her pace, and, instead of walking through the high sea grass, walked along the shore. Bubbling water flowed over her sandals as she lifted her robe to her knees, the edges already wet. Several boats dotted the sea and she watched as hatted men fished, pulling in lines dangling with flopping silver catches. She would miss Litusia, as it had been home for half her life, and Bronwen had grown accustomed to the warm breezes and lush plant life.
The salty scent of the sea reminded Caryss of when she had last seen Conri, close to where she now stood glimpsing across the calm waters. With gulls squawking overhead, she thought of him, of what she now knew of him and closed her eyes to escape the image of him. Since hearing of Byron’s wife, Bronwen could no longer hide from who the High Lord was. Each time she had thought of him since, blood covered his face and neck and his eyes gleamed purple, dark with fury and anger.
She had not told him of the sailor, yet he knew, as if she could keep nothing from him now. The thought was a somber one, convincing her that Willem would have never been able to keep her safely hidden. None could, she knew, although she had decided to ask Aldric if he would accompany her to Rexterra. While he had been banned from the Mage-Guild, he had not been exiled from Rexterra as Willem had, and his skills might be needed, she figured.
With one final look across the sea, she continued on, taking the longer path to Willem’s villa and trying to forget Conri altogether. He would always be Tribe, just as her daughter would be, she knew. Yet, the girl would be hers to raise, as Conri had promised, and the idea was her solace.
Looking up the troubling thoughts, Bronwen stared at the high, iron gate outside Willem’s compound, having arrived more quickly than she would have guessed. Without hesitating, she entered through the unlocked gate and toward the wide doors. Dropping her robe to her feet and loosening the laces of her pants, Bronwen then lifted a hand to the door, tapping it gently.
She had expected Chien to greet her and when Willem opened the door, she stepped back uncertainly.
He looked as surprised as she. “I had not thought to see you today.”
There was a silence between them that spoke of much unsaid, and Bronwen hesitated, not knowing where to begin.
Finally, her voice cracking, she whispered, “I wanted to tell you first of what I knew of the letter, but I fell ill as I made my way here a few nights ago.”
He said nothing, but moved aside and motioned for her to follow him inside.
When they neared the inner courtyard, her stomach rumbled loudly, enough so that Willem turned to her and asked, “When did you last eat?”
“Yesterday evening, I think.”
“Aldric is just ahead. There is much he wants to discuss with you. Find him while I go seek Chien.”
She could not blame him for his coolness toward her, yet it still stung. When she saw Aldric, she called, “Will you try to talk me out of going as well, Aldric?”
When he laughed, she stopped, the sound so rarely heard.
His laughter stopped and he said, “You would not have been safe here Bronwen. It is best that you leave, and Willem knows that as well. You will have to forgive him though, for he loves you, if you had not yet guessed.”
Her face burned at his words, and she slowly made her way to a chair across from his. Once seated, she mumbled, “He has said he would take me from here.”
Nodding, Aldric replied, “He would, of that I have no doubt. But just as you are not safe here, you would not be safe in Eirrannia either.”
“Why do you keep saying that? What danger can I be in here at the Academy?”
“Bronwen, let me explain, for I do not think it right that you understand so little. Why the High Lord has kept so much from you makes little sense to me. You can not stay here, surrounded by healers, and none but Willem able to defend you.”
“Defend me from what?” she interrupted.
“From whom. There will be those, both Tribe and Cordisian, who will be sworn enemy to your daughter, even before she draws breath.”
“And you think I did not know that, Aldric?” she asked heatedly.
Without answering her, he replied, “You will need an army.”
It was her turn to laugh, and she did, although there was no joy in it. “I will be on a Healer Journey, one that I must make alone, and without notice. You would have me travel to Rexterra with an army at my back?”
Shaking his head, he said, “I understand what requests were made, but my concern is not for the king, or any who might be found in the King’s City. The Master Council has made its own plans, I know, but they do not know all that we do, Brownen. You will not travel alone, on that Willem and I agree. We have discussed it, and I will be with you, as well as a few guards that Willem has hired.”
“Is this what he meant when he told me that you had needed to speak to me?” she asked, realizing that the two men had made plans without her involvement.
“There is plenty more, I’m afraid.”
Just then the sound of footsteps could be heard. Moments later, Willem appeared with Chien. He carried a large jug of ale while she carried a tray laden with food. Chien would not let her dark, almond-shaped eyes fall upon Bronwen, and she wondered what the woman knew, although she suspected it was nearly all.
Before Chien had finished handing Aldric and Willem their own plates, Bronwen had finished hers. While Chien’s back was turned to her and the men were distracted, Bronwen reached
for the tray and grabbed several more slices of the ham. When Chien had finished serving the men, she left the room, leaving the tray behind, much to Bronwen’s relief.
Aldric hardly touched his own food, yet commented, “Bronwen, does the babe require so much then?”
Blushing deeply, Bronwen answered, “It is as if I have little control over the hunger. Even when I try to fight it.”
Aldric nodded his head, but it was Willem who snapped, “We have little time to sit and converse about such nonsense.”
Neither Bronwen nor Aldric replied, and he continued, “I would guess that Aldric has told you of our plans. How you and Kennet could be so foolish to think that you could travel to Rexterra without aid leaves me questioning if you should go at all.”
“The council has said it must be so,” she interrupted.
“If they knew of the babe, then you would have not been permitted to go at all, Bronwen,” he countered.
Knowing that he was right, Bronwen said nothing.
Willem’s face was flush and shining, his eyes glimmering gold. His skin, darkened by the sun, was smooth and soft, she knew, and his cropped, fair hair made him look as if he was soldier still. Watching him, Bronwen decided that Willem was everything that Conri was not. Yet he is not the girl’s father, she thought.
Shaking free of the thought, she listened as Willem continued.
“None of us know how well you will feel moons from now when you are heavy with child. Nor do we know what protection Conri will offer. I would send you with as many men as I could pay, but I realize that there is folly in that as well. We can’t draw too much attention on you, or the Mage-Guild will take notice Aldric has informed me. After many hours, we have decided that he will go with you, as well as two men hired as guards. You will have coin as well if others need to be used. As for the babe, I had thought to ask Sharron to travel with you as well.”
She knew that the other healer would go, as he did, having heard of Sharron’s visit from the girl.
“Will it not seem strange that she leaves as I do?” Bronwen asked.
