by Nathan Roden
“I’ll get my things, Captain,” Belinda said. “But let me remind you—Sterling’s giant killed the true healer. I am only a healer’s wife—not a sorceress.”
“We have one of those, as well,” Raynard said. “Though I doubt you can do much for her.”
“What are you talking about?” Belinda said.
“Lady Magdalena,” Raynard said. “For all her magic powers, she could not avoid a simple bear trap. She’ll likely lose her foot—if she lives at all.”
“Where is she?” Belinda asked.
“At the castle, of course,” Raynard smirked. “Where we can keep our eyes on her.”
Belinda hurriedly gathered her things into a bag.
“Let’s go.”
They came to the intersections of roads near the entrance to Morgenwraithe castle. Raynard raised his hand to stop Belinda and his other men. The road was full of a long procession of huge carts. The carts were driven and attended by men and boys in dirty civilian clothes. Uniformed soldiers on horseback were spaced out among the procession.
Belinda did not recognize some of the carts. They were the largest contraptions she had ever seen move on wheels. The other carts were no mystery. They were loaded with boulders.
After the carts passed, Sterling led Belinda into the castle and to the door of Sterling’s chambers. Two guards stood there.
“It’s good to see you, my lord. And my lady,” a guard said. “Lord Sterling is in a…a particularly foul mood.”
“Surely, you jest,” Raynard said. “Announce our arrival.”
“Yes, my lord.”
A moment later, Sterling roared.
“Get her in here! At once!”
Belinda followed Raynard inside. She put her bag down and inspected Sterling’s wound without a word.
“There are signs of infection,” she said finally, more in Raynard’s direction than Sterling’s. “Burns are most susceptible. They must remain clean until healing takes place. It does not matter if you are royalty or the lowest peasant. If the patient is to recover he must—”
“Don’t think you are in a position to tell me what I must do, woman!” Sterling snapped. “Apply your medicine and replace the bandage—and do it right this time!”
“Do you mean to imply this is my doing?” Belinda snapped. “This is your fault! And if you do not do as I say, my lord, you will die.”
Sterling took several deep breaths. He settled back onto his bed.
“Get it over with,” he said. “And then see to the sorceress. I want the wench alive.”
Raynard cleared his throat.
“Lord Sterling, the…acquisitions have arrived. I should see to them.”
Sterling waved his hand.
“Go. Leave an officer to escort the healer.”
“I am not a healer,” Belinda said. “You saw fit to murder—”
“Leave an officer to escort this woman to Lady Magdalena’s chamber,” Sterling said.
Three guards stood outside the room where the officer led Belinda. The officer opened the door.
“After you, my lady.”
Belinda stopped in the doorway. She saw Magdalena lying motionless on a small bed in the middle of the room. A solitary lamp sat on a small wooden table, providing only a dim light. There was nothing else in the room. Belinda turned.
“I must have more light.”
The officer motioned to one of his men. The man walked away.
“And I don’t need you,” Belinda said to the officer.
“Lord Raynard’s orders, my lady.”
“Have you no respect for a woman’s modesty?” Belinda asked. “What could we possibly do in here? The woman is hobbled—what if this was your mother? Or your sister?”
“I am an officer of the King’s Guard, not a randy stable boy. I answer to my Captain and my King.”
The man returned with two more lamps. Belinda and the officer went into the room. The officer lifted a board and barred the door closed. Belinda watched and shook her head.
The officer placed the lamps on the table. He lit them and looked at Belinda. She glared at him.
“Do you want to see the wound?” Belinda asked. “Do you have a strong stomach? If you vomit, I’m not cleaning it up.”
The officer walked to the door and leaned against it. Belinda walked to the foot of the bed. She looked at Magdalena’s foot and shuddered. Belinda could see the white of the ankle bone under the sheen of dried blood. She knew there was little she could do. Magdalena would never walk again.
Belinda stepped to the head of the bed. Magdalena’s eyes were closed. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead. Her breath was uneven.
“Magdalena,” Belinda whispered. “Can you hear me? It’s Belinda. Belinda Jacobs.”
Magdalena’s eyelids fluttered. They opened. And then they opened wide. Belinda covered Magdalena’s mouth with her hand. Belinda bent over and spoke into Magdalena’s ear.
“You are inside Castle Morgenwraithe. There is an officer of the King’s Guard just behind me. Your foot…you cannot walk. Do you have healing magic?”
Magdalena closed her eyes and shook her head.
“I have medicine,” Belinda whispered. “I will do everything I can to keep you alive. I’m going to remove my hand now.”
Magdalena nodded.
Nine
Boone and Helena ran as fast as they could. They were not far behind Noah—when they heard the awful cries coming from above.
They saw Simon’s body twist and jerk in the air and then fall. They heard the crash.
“Simon! Simon!” Boone and Helena called.
Boone slid to a stop beside Simon’s head.
“What—? Are you—?”
“I’m alive,” Simon croaked. “Hurts…”
“Where’s Caleb?” Helena said. She looked up at the guards who watched from the tower.
“Where’s Caleb?” she screamed. “Caleb Brewer?”
“The blind boy?” a guard asked.
“Yes!”
“He and his sister are at the lake with Miller and Flint!”
Helena grabbed Boone’s arm.
“Come on! We have to get Caleb!”
“Wait,” Simon said.
“What is it?” Boone asked.
“Magdalena is hurt. I saw her.”
“Where is she?” Helena asked.
“Don’t know,” Simon said.
“He’s not making sense,” Helena said to Boone. “Let’s go!”
“Boone,” Simon said. “Magdalena’s wound—became my wound.”
“No, Simon,” Boone said. “It doesn’t work that way. When I shot her with an arrow it did not affect you. Remember?”
“I was…I was a man. Not a dragon…”
“It’s the pain talking,” Helena said. “We need to go!”
“I don’t know, Helena. How could that happen to his leg in midair?” Boone asked. “This is just too strange. Simon, I believe you. But we need to find Caleb. Your leg is…it’s not good, my friend. You’ll need more than a bandage.”
Boone and Helena ran to the west gate. They passed by a stunned stable boy. The boy did not object when they took horses. Boone and Helena rode toward the lake.
****
Lady Robinette Lamont climbed the stairs to the second floor in search of Esmerelda. Robinette had baked a batch of scones, determined to escape her reputation as a poor cook.
I have learned to handle a bow and a sword, in spite of my husband’s teasing, Robinette thought.
I will master the kitchen as well.
At the sound of the city’s bell, Robinette lost interest in the scones. She ran to the nearest balcony.
“Make way!” the crier sang. “The Queen of the Realm has been found!”
Robinette ran halfway down the stairs before she remembered,
The children.
“Esmerelda! Esmerelda!” she cried.
“Yes, my lady!” Esmerelda said as she ran toward the sound of Robinette’s v
oice.
“Esmerelda! Jaclyn has been found! You must tend to the children!”
“This is wonderful news, my lady! Sara and Caleb left early to go fishing at the lake with two of the guards. I will see to the little boy. Hurry now!”
Robinette ran out of the front door, startling the guards.
“My Lady!” a guard yelled.
Lady Lamont did not slow or turn.
“Go with her!” the guard said to his companion.
Everyone stopped when the crash shook the ground and the city’s wall.
Women screamed. Men drew their swords and ran to the gates. They pushed against them. They would not budge. Men rolled a set of stairs to the wall and ran up them.
“It’s a dragon! He’s crashed into the gates and isn’t moving! Its leg is…its leg is broken!”
Robinette ran to a guard on horseback.
“Get me outside the city at once!”
The guard helped her onto his horse. They sped away toward the west gate.
Esmerelda hurried to the first floor, and the room where Sara and Ezekiel slept.
The room was empty.
“By the gods!” Esmerelda whispered.
“Ezekiel! Zeke!” she cried as she searched nearby rooms. The little boy was nowhere to be found.
Esmerelda ran to the front door. She grabbed the solitary guard by his coat.
“Have you seen the little b—?”
She spotted Zeke running toward the gates, his arms pumping and propelling him along on his chubby little legs. Men and women jumped when they saw him, barely keeping from knocking him down.
“Help me!” Esmerelda cried. She ran into the street. Others joined in the chase. A man closed in on Zeke. Zeke raised his hand and the man stopped as if he had run into a wall. He fell hard onto his backside.
“No!” Zeke said without breaking his awkward stride.
“Zeke run!”
More women and men joined the chase for the little boy. People lined up against the gates with their arms out to catch him. Zeke raised both hands.
The left gate began to shake. The heavy hinges squealed in protest. The people standing there ran away. The gate scraped against the ground and moved outward a few inches.
Just enough to allow a little boy to squeeze through.
“No!” someone shouted. “There’s an injured dragon out there!”
Three men dove into the air in desperate attempts to grab Zeke.
And that is where they stayed—suspended in midair. The air was silent as everyone held their breath.
The only sound came from the shuffling of the little boy’s feet. And then his voice.
“Zeke help!”
Zeke turned and passed through the gate. No one dared try to follow. The gate groaned as it closed.
“Quickly!” a guard yelled. “Lower the rope!”
A heavy rope descended from the guard tower. Another was tied to the portable stairs. Guards and soldiers scaled the wall and formed a half-circle around the boy and the dragon.
“Come here, son,” a guard whispered. “The dragon is hurt. He’s very dangerous.”
Simon groaned and opened one eye.
A tiny hand patted his nose.
“Zeke…” Simon said with great difficulty.
One guard whispered to the next.
“We’ll have to rush him—all at once.”
“Are you mad? Did you see what he did?”
“We can’t let him be burned alive!”
“I think he knows what he’s doing.”
“You think—he’s a baby!”
“Move closer.”
The men took one step forward. Zeke spun around and raised his hands.
“Go ‘way.”
The men froze in place.
Zeke opened his mouth and unleashed a roar to rival that of a full-grown dragon. A dragon appeared overhead. Then another. And another.
The guards looked up.
“What the bloody—?”
They backed away.
Zeke stepped away from Simon’s head. He walked the length of Simon’s body and stopped in front of the dragon’s horribly mangled leg.
“By the gods,” a guard moaned, almost in tears. “What is he going to do?”
Zeke raised his right hand and laid it on Simon’s leg.
Simon unleashed a scream that shook the earth. Fire shot eighty feet into the sky. People inside the gates screamed. Some of them fainted. One woman fell into Esmerelda’s arms.
“Oh, no,” Esmerelda sobbed. “Ezekiel…”
Simon’s fire stopped after the one quick burst. His body went limp and his head fell to the side.
Ezekiel’s hand and the dragon’s leg became one—in a meld of blue and orange flame. Sickening sounds came from the area—crunching and crackling. Sizzling and popping.
The leg moved, unfolding in such a way that no one could bear to look.
There was a blinding flash.
And then the world stood still.
Zeke backed away. Simon raised his head. Black smoke puffed from his nostrils.
And then Simon stood.
Ten
Belinda cleaned the wound the best she could. Magdalena faded in and out of consciousness. Belinda raised the wounded foot as gently as she was able but Magdalena grabbed the sides of the table and screamed.
Belinda took a vial from her bag and removed the cork. She slipped her hand behind Magdalena’s neck.
“This will help with the pain.”
“No,” Magdalena said, weakly. She pressed her lips together and shook her head.
Belinda turned and glared at the lieutenant. He looked away, refusing to meet her eyes. It saddened Belinda that she would soon have to have the help of such men. There was no hope of saving Magdalena’s foot. Even the most gifted healer in the world would know that.
But Belinda could not deal with that inevitability in the current moment. She was too tired, and depressed—and afraid. She might be able to keep infection at bay for one more day, but she knew the only way to save Magdalena’s life was to remove her foot. Belinda would have to acquire a saw. A sterile saw. The thought made her sick, but there was no other way.
Damn you, Sterling Morgenwraithe.
Belinda leaned close to Magdalena’s ear.
“I will have to prop your foot in order to wrap the bandages. It will hurt.”
Magdalena squeezed her eyes shut. A whimper escaped her lips.
Belinda had two rolls of bandages. She laid one of them next to the foot. She gritted her teeth and lifted the leg. Magdalena arched her back and loosed a blood-curling scream. The lieutenant doubled over and vomited.
“By the gods!” he roared. “Shut her mouth before I bury my sword in it!”
“Do your worst!” Belinda snapped. “Sterling and Raynard love it when their subordinates do as they please and ignore their orders! Your presence is not required.”
The lieutenant looked at the barre on the door like he would be more than happy to leave. He waved a hand toward the table.
“Carry on. Be quick about it.”
Belinda took a deep breath. She passed a length of bandage beneath Magdalena’s leg.
The leg glowed red. A wave of heat blew past Belinda’s hands. She felt the heat on her arms and face. She dropped one side of the bandage. She picked it up again and brought the ends together.
Belinda jumped when the bandage flared and began to burn. Yellow, orange, and blue flames covered Magdalena’s leg and foot. Magdalena lay still, moaning softly.
Belinda thought she saw a smile on Magdalena’s lips. Belinda stepped back. She stared into the flames that now completely obscured the wound. The sounds were horrific—hissing and popping. The unmistakable sound of grinding bones. Smoke rose to the ceiling. Belinda tried to shield whatever was happening from the lieutenant, but it was not possible.
The lieutenant stood up straight though he was afraid to move any closer.
“W-what are you doing?�
�
“Nothing!”
“I said, what are you doing, woman?”
He pushed past Belinda and stared in disbelief at Magdalena’s leg.
Belinda had no idea what was happening, but she did know that Magdalena’s leg was healing.
By magic.
Belinda was certainly happy with the result, but she knew this put both of them in even more danger. Would Sterling believe Magdalena healed herself? Not likely. She could have done it before now and avoided the misery.
How could Belinda explain it? They would think she had been capable of magic and hiding it from them.
She would become his slave.
Belinda could not allow that to happen. She and the lieutenant watched as the flames and sounds died away. The wound had disappeared.
Belinda reached into her bag for the last time.
She drove a dagger into the lieutenant’s side.
Magdalena’s eyelids fluttered. She saw the lieutenant fall. She turned her head and saw the man on the floor—surrounded by a growing pool of blood.
Magdalena looked at Belinda, her eyes wide.
“You killed him?”
“I had no choice. We have to get out of here.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Belinda said.
She put her hand behind Magdalena’s ankle and raised her leg. Magdalena opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came forth.
“What did you do?” she whispered.
“I didn’t do anything!” Belinda said. “If I was a sorceress, I would have turned Sterling into a toad and stomped him as flat as parchment!”
“Then who—?”
“We can’t think about that now,” Belinda said. “We have to go. Sterling and Raynard will lock us in the dungeon if they get the chance. Can you stand?”
Magdalena swung her legs over the side of the table. She pushed with her hands.
Rip!
Magdalena’s dress tore at both shoulders. She stood.
Belinda took a step back. Her jaw fell slack and her eyes opened wide.
