by Shannah Jay
Deverith’s chant changed to, ‘Bone lie straight and flesh be whole!’ His voice now seemed to echo from a great distance, growing more powerful with each repetition, until suddenly there was a wrenching feeling and the sound ceased.
Deverith’s face was bloodless and only the faintest aura of light was now glimmering around him. As the world fell back into its normal pattern around the two women, he struggled in vain to speak, then crumpled to the ground unconscious.
Sarann blinked and sat up, stretching as if she had just been sleeping. ‘Is it - ? Karialla! Is Deverith all right?’
Karialla bent down and felt for his pulse, sighing with relief to find it beating steadily.
It was not until they both started to pick him up that Sarann realised she was moving normally. She looked down and saw that her left leg was as straight as it had been before the injury. ‘My leg!’ Her voice cracked and tears started in
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her eyes. ‘He really did mend it!’
The shock froze them where they were for a few seconds, then Karialla said urgently, ‘Lay him on the bed.’ She put her hand on Deverith’s forehead and felt his pulse again. ‘He’s all right, I think. Just utterly exhausted.’ She took a deep breath and turned to Sarann. ‘Come through into my room. I want to examine your leg properly.’ She covered Deverith with a quilt, worried by his stillness and the pallor of his skin. ‘I’ll sit with him for a while afterwards.’
When she examined the leg, she found it straight again, though if you felt the bone, there was a slight bumpiness in the part which had been smashed deliberately.
As Sarann walked round the room to test it, tears were running down her face. ‘He mended it!’ she kept saying. ‘He really did! I can walk properly again.’
Karialla had tears in her own eyes as she hugged the younger woman. The warmth and joy of the strange healing seemed still to be swirling around her, making her feel elated. When the two of them had recovered some of their self-control, she said firmly, ‘Until we get better guidance from Deverith, I think you should keep off that leg as much as possible. It’s still hurting, isn’t it?’
‘Well . . . maybe a little.’
‘Pain can be a warning that something isn’t fully healed. We’ll not risk anything until we can check with Deverith.
Go and lie down on his bed and keep off that leg. We’d better leave him where he is in your room.’
It was two hours before Deverith stirred. When he opened his eyes, Karialla clasped his hand and spoke gently, ‘You mustn’t try to do anything yet.’ She began stroking his forehead with her fingertips, for she sensed it was aching.
He closed his eyes and sighed. ‘Aah! That’s better!’
At her prompting he drank the herb and honey infusion that had been keeping warm by the fire, then lay back. ‘So tired!’ he murmured. ‘Weak as a new-born nerid. Normally cope with a healing better than this.’
‘You haven’t asked how Sarann’s leg is,’ prompted Karialla.
He gave the ghost of a grin. ‘Didn’t need to. I could feel the healing taking place. Why do you think I’m so exhausted?’ He smiled up at her. ‘I’ll teach you how to heal like that.’
‘Me?’
He gave a ghost of a chuckle. ‘Yes, you, lass. You’ve got the makings of an outstanding healer.’
‘I’m not sure I . . . ’
‘Don’t worry! You won’t be using such powers all the time. You couldn’t. It’d wear you out. But sometimes, when a life is important, you know that you must use them. Sarann is important to us. You’re important. This world really needs that temple you’re going to build, the one with all the carved stonework up on the Ridge. I’m important too, but I won’t tell you exactly why just yet.’
She gaped at him, her heart pounding. ‘How do you know what that building looks like?’ The words came out as a whisper, then she added more loudly, ‘But it’s not a temple!’
‘What is it, then?’
‘It’s a centre of healing and learning.’
He grinned at her. ‘There doesn’t seem to be much difference between them to me.’
She ignored that. ‘How did you know about it, Deverith? You’ve mentioned it before, but not in detail.’
‘The deleff showed it to me. Only, when I saw it, you were walking around inside, dressed in Healer’s blue, the darker First Cadre blue. You were wearing a long robe, a bit like those worn by healers in the old days, but prettier, and
. . . ’ He yawned loudly. ‘Sorry, lass, but I can’t stay awake any longer. We’ll finish our talk another time.’
He closed his eyes again, leaving her sitting by him with her thoughts in absolute turmoil.
When Heth and Ferilla returned, she hadn’t moved her body, but her thoughts had gone soaring high and had scattered almost as widely as the stars you saw in the sky on the rare moonless nights.
***
The next day Deverith was almost back to normal. He got up early and when the two women joined him, he narrowed his eyes to study the way Sarann was moving, then laid his hand on her leg. ‘It’s progressing well, but take things easy for a few days, lass. We want the bone to heal completely.’
‘Whatever you say, Deverith.’
Heth and Ferilla stared at her straightened leg in amazement, then back at their Mentor.
‘Not a word about this to anyone, you two,’ he warned them. ‘It’s a special sort of healing, which you’ll learn in First Cadre. We don’t talk about it to outsiders.’
Nodding acceptance of this explanation, they went off to begin their day’s tasks.
He laid his hand on Sarann’s shoulder. ‘I’ve been thinking, lass. If you go out into town with the leg suddenly healed, the people who’ve seen you limping will accuse us of using evil arts. Or they’ll accuse me. Rojan would love that. So I thought we might let it be known that I’ve been treating you and that you’re resting for a day or two. Then we’ll fit a splint to the leg, one that allows you to walk, but stiffly, just for a week or two. You can gradually reduce your limp. I
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hate such subterfuge, but sometimes it’s necessary. Is that all right with you, Sarann?’
‘Yes. Yes, of course. Whatever you say, Deverith. I wouldn’t want to get you into any trouble.’
Later, when they were alone, Karialla asked about one of the things that had been puzzling her for a while. ‘If you trained in Tenebrak, Deverith, why does no one in the town recognise you? There should be still be someone here who remembers you.’
His expression was bland. ‘Oh, I daresay someone will turn up one day and say, “Goodness, that’s old Deverith, isn’t it?” You never know what another day will bring, Karialla.’
When she opened her mouth to protest that that wasn’t a satisfactory explanation, he said firmly, ‘That, too, will become clear in due course, my dear lass.’ He turned and left her to her teaching and they saw no more of him until the following morning.
CHAPTER 15 Niam
Discord itself never came to Garshalik, the most northerly settlement in all the land but once, early in the Discord Wars, a group of half-starved refugees found their way to the settlement. They were numb with the pain of losing their homes and loved ones, and Niam was put in charge of helping them. She allowed them to tell and re-tell their griefs to her, until at length they came to terms with what had happened and began to make new lives for themselves.
For a whim, she wrote down their tales, so that the young should learn what harm Discord could do. When she’d finished doing this, the idea grew gradually in her that someone should write down as much as possible of what was happening in the rest of their world. Future generations must never forget these terrible times or repeat the mistakes of the past.
She was quite sure in her own tidy mind that one day this evil would be driven from their land, but she wasn’t sure anyone else would make the effort to chart its course. Unlike her, most people were too busy caring for their fa
milies, but she’d never wanted to marry. Clearly, to do the job of recording the troubled times properly, she’d have to leave Garshalik and travel the world. That worried her at first, because she had no wish to throw away her life, but in the end she accepted the necessity.
It’s my destiny, she thought, a task set upon me by the gods themselves.
She made her preparations carefully, devising a script that would tell much in a short space, because otherwise the paper records would be too heavy to carry.
Her family were horrified, but she refused to listen to their careful arguments and simply started making preparations for her journey.
‘We shall miss you,’ her father said sadly.
‘I shall miss you, too, Father, but someone must do this. If there are gods, then they have set this task upon me.’
As was usual in Garshalik, the settlers all met to discuss what Niam should take with her. She accepted that and listened carefully to their advice, for she’d never believed herself better or wiser than anyone else, just the one chosen to record the history of evil.
When the others, in their generosity, would have provided her with both a riding nerid and a pack animal, she shook her head. ‘No. I must go on foot, quietly, unnoticed. A mere observer of life. Though if someone will come with me, I shall be glad to ride until we reach other settlements, after which my companion can bring back my nerid.’
And on one thing she asked no advice. When she came to share an evening meal with her family, her mother screamed at the sight of her, then continued to wail in horror, for Niam had cut off the long silky hair which was her only attraction as a women, leaving only a short stubble.
‘What did you do that for? Oh, Niam, why ever did you do that? It makes you look like a man.’
‘Good!’ said Niam. ‘I need to look like a man. It will be safer if I dress like one, too.’
She was glad when they reached the next settlement and her brother took the nerids back. He hugged her, shook his head wordlessly and rode back the way they’d come.
She strode forward, feeling freer than she ever had in her life before.
***
The roads in the north were quiet, even in territory that was well settled, and Niam enjoyed her own company for a few days. Then she began to meet another sort of traveller, not at all friendly. But her clothes were shabby and travel-stained, her face and body unremarkable, so even would-be thieves usually left her alone.
If she saw them calculating whether there was money in her pack, she humbly begged for food and if this didn’t put them off, she gazed at them with a wild yet stupid expression she’d practised in her mirror before she left, and most of them backed away. As a last resort, she had a sharp dagger, but rarely needed to use it.
During the years when Discord was rampant, Niam travelled the land from north to south, and from east to west,
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passing so quietly that few considered her worth a second glance. Most thought her deranged, for she stared at them, questioned them and ignored danger. Something about her made people feel uneasy and that something grew stronger as the years passed till there were times when she felt uneasy with her own strangeness, too.
Even those filled with discord madness turned away from her as she became a seasoned traveller, though they would never have admitted she made them nervous. Fancy being afraid of a small ‘man’ of middling age who carried no weapons and spent his time scribbling feverishly on sheets of paper! Occasionally one would snatch the paper and look at what she was writing, but they found only gibberish and tapped their foreheads significantly. No use wasting their time on a poor madman. No profit there. No fun, either. It was well known that madmen didn’t feel pain.
The only times she truly relaxed were when she met trader families and travelled with them a little way. The deleff fascinated her, and she seemed to interest them, because they’d stop for her without being told, often coming to nuzzle her with their big soft mouths, as if to offer comfort.
As the years passed, there were fewer traders on the roads, though once in a while she would meet deleff on their own travelling through the wildwoods. Sometimes they would nod to her and pass on by; sometimes they would stop and try to communicate with her.
The first time she met one of the larger, darker deleff in a clearing near a pool, she hesitated to approach it. She’d never seen one so big and it seemed to carry an aura of ancient wisdom and of sadness, too. When it nodded its head to greet her, she walked forward. When it nudged her arm, something told her to raise her hands and lay them along the sides of its head, after which pictures began to flow into her mind.
The pictures it showed were of a town nestled in a circular valley by a wide river. She recognised it at once from the travellers’ tales she had heard: Tenebrak, first of all the settlements on this world and a place she’d always longed to visit. She’d set off to go there many times in the past few years, but something had always happened to turn her aside.
And since she’d learned to trust her instincts, which had saved her life several times, she hadn’t gone against this feeling.
She would get to Tenebrak one day, she was quite sure of that.
The next picture was of herself, walking down the hill into the town. Her head ached as she tried to understand what was happening. It was so very hard to communicate with deleff.
‘You want me to go there?’ she whispered as her hands fell to her sides.
It nodded its head and then blew spice-scented breath all around her, before trampling away through the undergrowth, then turning to wait for her. When she didn’t at first move, it started shifting its feet, impatience radiating from it.
Tenebrak at last, she thought as she followed it. Well, why not? She’d had more than enough of travelling by now.
More than enough of the loneliness, too. And Discord was definitely waning, so the first part of her great task, as she thought of it, was coming to an end. What she needed now was to retrieve all her hidden papers and put them together in orderly fashion.
Several days passed. The huge deleff trampled through the wildwoods making a path for her. They met no other people, and her guide always managed to stop for the night where food and water were to be had, though she grew tired of nuts and fruit.
One day, more quickly than she would have believed possible, the wildwoods changed to forest and they came out of the undergrowth on to a well-travelled road. A woman who was passing stopped to wait as Niam took leave of the deleff, bowing and offering it her thanks.
Then she turned to face the future. She was utterly certain something wonderful awaited her in Tenebrak, for otherwise why would the deleff have taken the trouble to bring her here?
CHAPTER 16 Niam’s Return
When a strange deleff brought a third person out of the wildwoods just as Karialla chanced to be passing, she wondered what the deleff were up to now. How could they know she’d be passing by when she hadn’t even known herself at what hour she’d be returning from a healing visit? But the deleff had already managed to bring people to her whose skills would be useful to what she now thought of as her quest for peace and wisdom, so she waited patiently.
There was only one deleff this time, very large and darker than usual in colour. He was followed by a man - no, Karialla corrected herself - by a woman wearing men’s clothing. The newcomer seemed neither young nor old, neither tall nor short - so nondescript, in fact, that your eyes slid away from her. She looked weary, but was in better condition than Deverith and Sarann had been when they were brought out of the woods.
Before either of the two women could say anything, the deleff stepped forward and nudged Karialla’s arm. Clearly he wished to communicate with her. Taking a deep breath she stretched out her hands towards its lowered head. This time, the strange feeling of disorientation hit her very quickly and pictures crowded into her brain one upon the other,
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pictures of the large stone buil
ding again and in it men and women garbed in blue singing happily as they went about their work. There were also pictures of healers working, like Deverith, with their minds tuned to that strange energy.
Last of all came a picture of herself, standing in the woods with Deverith, looking across a lake at something huge and silver . . . Karialla’s strength began to ebb suddenly, the picture faded and her hands fell from the deleff’s head.
As contact was broken, she would have fallen but for the stranger’s arms. The great creature fluttered its ruff at her, then turned and crashed back into the wildwoods. Karialla leaned against the woman for a moment or two, waiting for the dizziness to pass. ‘I’m sorry. It’s so hard to . . . ’
‘You don’t need to tell me. I’ve spent a bit of time with deleff myself. Just lean against me till you feel better. It’ll pass more quickly if you don’t fight against it.’
After a few moments Karialla moved away. ‘I can stand on my own now. Thank you for your help.’
‘You’re welcome. Is that Tenebrak?’
‘Yes.’
‘Ah.’ The woman gazed at it hungrily. ‘At last!’
‘Have you travelled far to get here?’
‘All over the land. I disguised myself as a man during the Discord Wars, but I can be myself again now, thank goodness. My name’s Niam, by the way.’
‘I’m Karialla. Are you a healer?’
‘No. I used to be a teacher but I have this - I suppose you could call it a compulsion to record the history of the Discord Wars.’ She broke off and looked at Karialla defensively. ‘You’re not smiling.’
‘Why should I?’
‘People usually smile pityingly when I say that. They think I’m mad. But if we don’t write down what’s happening in our times, how can the next generation learn from our mistakes and avoid repeating them?’
Karialla stared at her, unable to speak for a moment or two, so close was this to her own views. ‘I agree with you absolutely,’ she managed at last. ‘Look, Niam, we have some spare rooms in our house. Would you like to stay with us tonight?’
