“You’ve got more to do than I expected,” Faldor said, holding his aching shoulder. “How are you paying for it all?”
“Out of my own pocket so far,” Alec told him as he lay recumbent on a wooden bench, too tired to sit up.
“Stop that. Put it all on the Prince’s tab; bring me receipts and I’ll get payment to the merchants,” Faldor chided him.
“What type of uniform or colors do you want your Guard to wear? I want to get those designed quickly,” Alec asked him. “And, you did well today Faldor. Just as well as any first day student. Be sure to come back tomorrow.”
The chamberlain looked at him, grateful for the words of encouragement. “Thank you. Make the uniforms mostly blue, and add some yellow or red for highlights. I’ll see you around the palace,” he said as he left.
Left alone, and feeling depressed because he was so tired, Alec eventually stood up and strolled into town with a mission in mind. Walking through the crowded, dirty streets, he asked for directions to the farmers market that typically exists in every town. Upon his arrival he started shopping for a variety of herbs and plants that he knew could produce an effective poultice for the aching arm of Faldor and the new recruits.
When he had all that he needed, Alec strolled back to the palace by another route, observing more of the city. Several men loitered on the streets as he passed by, and he wondered if they could be a good source of reliable recruits. There seemed no shortage of men without work, something he had never noticed in Goldenfields or Oyster Bay.
Upon his return Alec rested, then took his supplies to the palace kitchen, where he mixed and prepared a substantial supply of the poultice. Taking a small potful separate from the rest, Alec searched for Faldor and presented him with the gift. “I’m told in the good old days a sore arm was part of being a new Guard in training, but I never saw much use if a remedy was available. Rub a small handful on your shoulder each day for the next week and you’ll feel much better.”
Faldor looked up at him. “If I could figure out what you stand to gain from being so nice, I’d arrange for you to have it. But you’ve got your own wealth, soldiers, and beautiful young lady friend, so I can’t think of anything else to offer you. I thank you for this gift and your good works for Bondell.”
Alec assured him there was no ulterior motive, then left the palace to visit the recruits’ barracks. “How many of you have arms that feel heavy as lead right now?” he asked. Several hands went up. “Line up and come see me,” he told them as he took a seat, then massaged the poultice into each of their arms. “I’ll leave the pot here and you can dose yourselves once a day. Make sure you make it last. You shouldn’t need any more after five or six days use, so leave some for the other recruits that will be joining you.”
As he developed the rapport with them, he began to learn many things about them, the Kingdom, and where he needed to go to find seamstresses and other trades people.
Worn as he felt, Alec returned to the Guard quarters, and after briefly speaking to Pember, went to bed for the rest of the day.
The next morning Alec awoke late, after sword practice and breakfast for the recruits and the Guard members. “Pember, I’m sorry to miss so much,” he told his second in command when he arrived at the armory. “What do we have planned for today?” he asked.
“What do you want us to do?” Pember replied. “I wasn’t sure what you expected today.”
“We need to recruit, first and foremost. We also need to ship those prisoners back to Oyster Bay if the ship has been re-painted in our colors,” Alec thought out loud. “Send someone to the bay to check on the boat, and if it looks ready, we’ll talk to Faldor about getting them moved out.”
“See if Whelan has a plan worked out for security in the Palace. If he does, make the changes you think are appropriate and present it to Faldor,” Alec continued. “I’m going to go to the cathedral this morning to talk to a priest. I’ll be back soon, or send a note if things take too long. In the meantime, go out recruiting, and talk to the recruits about a seamstress we can use to create uniforms for the Bondell Guard. Faldor said they want lots of blue, and some yellow.”
With that Alec left the barracks to go visit Friar Chaer, hopeful that some appropriate rituals or prayers would be available to help him end his lethargy and lack of ingenaire powers.
“Brother,” Alec called as he approached Chaer’s workshop.
The woodworker’s cheerful face turned towards him, and he walked to the door. “Have a seat Alec,” he instructed.
“I looked in the library and covertly asked some questions and there’s nothing we can offer to heal you of your ingenaire’s malady,” Chaer told him. “Faldor says that if there’s anything at all I can do for you I must, so I feel bad that we don’t have the answer you seek.”
Alec felt crestfallen, as he considered the implications of his continuing weakness. Without something to heal him, Alec knew that his command would grow more tenuous over time, especially among the recruits for the important new Bondell force he was desperate to create.
“There is an alternative, perhaps,” Chaer told him. “There is a pool in the mountains. It’s fed by a bitter spring, about three days ride from here. Legend says that it was where John Mark healed after escaping an ambush during his time here. After he was healed in the pool he was immune to further attacks, and went on to Oyster Bay to establish the church’s permanent home.”
“I can draw a map for you to go to the pool, if you like,” Chaer said. “We’ve not had anyone go there in many years, but I thought that somehow there may be a relationship between the pool and your needs,” Chaer said earnestly. “It feels like this is the right thing to help you.”
Alec sat back and considered the proposal Chaer had made. A three day ride in the wilderness to a pool that might heal him, then a three day ride back. In his present shape a three day ride was likely to take five or six days each way, a long journey to consider.
“What provisions would I be able to find on the way?” Alec asked.
“For the first day or so the land will be tended and peopled, but after that you’ll be in some barren country with few other people. You’ll need to pack most of your supplies,” the friar replied.
“Can you draw a map with details?” Alec asked at last after thinking for a long time. He saw no alternative. He was too weak to return to Goldenfields, and too weak to remain and perform his duty here in Bondell.
“Certainly,” Chaer responded. “I’ll have it delivered to you this afternoon, if you would like.”
He hesitated, then added. “This is only a legend, Alec. I don’t want to give you false hope, but we have nothing else to offer.”
Alec thought back to the times in Goldenfields, Oyster Bay and in the road-building camp when he had seen the healing power of prayer. Chaer, before I do this, could we have a prayer session? I have seen priests perform miraculous things with their requests for comfort and healing.”
“By all means,” Chaer said quickly. “I will arrange for several priests to hold a prayer vigil with you tomorrow morning in one of the chapels, if you’d like. Prayer can do wonders. I just haven’t learned of any specific prayer for your particular condition.”
Alec thanked him for his assistance, and agreed to return the next morning for prayers. He strolled out of the cathedral grounds and back into the city, taking a winding route that led him down to the waterfront. Out in the bay he saw the Oyster Bay vessel, now painted in the colors of Goldenfields, green and yellow. As he watched he realized it was under sail, escorted by one of Bondell’s frigates in its departure from the bay.
Pleased by the sight of the removal of the Oyster Bay prisoners, Alec walked with lifted spirits back to the barracks on the Palace grounds. A group of twenty new recruits stood in a circle outside the barracks, as Pember and two other Guards processed them in. Each was answering questions about their previous experience and listing their abilities. Alec smiled at the apparent success of the recruiting drive, and hoped
that many would prove serviceable as warriors.
Alec went into the palace to see Faldor, but the chamberlain was busy and unable to see him. Alec noticed Guard members at entrances to the Palace, a sign that Pember and Faldor had put Whelan’s security plan into place. Following a short afternoon of administrative chores, Alec returned to his bunk and fell asleep again, sleeping fitfully throughout the rest of the day and night.
He awoke the next morning and headed to the cathedral for treatment with prayer. For the first time in several days, Alec thought of his friends in Goldenfields, and wondered how they all were doing. Imelda and Bethany and the rest of the group from Bondell should have arrived back in the duchy. Alec realized that with the departure of Lord Kelvin they had lost the supply of pigeons that provided relatively timely communications between the two lands. He would probably receive no news of Goldenfields until the next group of Guards arrived in Bondell to take over the training of the forces here.
Alec was still musing as he entered the cathedral and went to Chaer’s richly paneled side chapel of craftsmen and artisans.
Inside were several priests and the bishop, arranged in a semi-circle around the altar. “Father and brothers, I wish to present to you a humble and earnest applicant, Alec, who has requested our prayers to heal him of wounds,” Chaer announced. A hum began immediately to fill the golden oak chapel, as a low chant was taken up by several of the priests. “I thought we’d try something special for you here at the cathedral,” Chaer explained as he escorted the wounded guardsman. “Maybe this will take care of healing your injuries, and you won’t have to make the trip to the desert.”
“Alec, we are here to ask Jesus to intercede on your behalf, to restore the health and power you seek,” the bishop said. “Come forward to the altar.”
Hopefully, Alec walked up the short nave to the raised dais and stopped at the bottom step. Two steps above on the raised platform a very large silver tub of water was in the center of the priests. They are going to immerse me in holy water, Alec guessed as he stood and listened to the music.
“Remove your clothes,” the bishop commanded, and Alec obediently stripped away the material, self-conscious of the women who were among the priests here in Bondell.
The chanting stopped, and all the priests together took up an ancient prayer ritual, speaking responsively in two parts as Alec approached the tub.
“You must be washed in the holy water, immersed in the Holy Spirit, and cleansed of your transgressions,” the Bishop declared in rhythmic counterpoint to the ritual. “Step into the tub and sink below the surface. Let the water cover you and separate you from the world in which you have lost your heavenly mandate. Let it remind you of the manner in which our Lord covers and protects you from the consequences of your transgressions.”
Alec was struck by an overwhelming memory of the waters he had encountered in the Cave of the Window. A damp, pungent breeze seemed to waft by his nose. He felt a faint reminder of the sensation of cleansing he had experienced when the spring water of the cave had showered down over him. As he stepped up to the tub the chapel seemed to darken in his vision, and he saw the bare stone of the cave walls around him. He no longer heard the priests as he sat in the water, then slid down, feeling the chilly water rise up over his chest, neck, and head.
As he relaxed, he knew there was a presence with him in the tub. Opening his eyes under water he looked beside him and saw the pale blue face of Noranda, just inches from his own. Her eyes were open, and looking directly into his.
He gasped in shock and swallowed water as he reacted to the sudden appearance of the almost dead girl he had pledged to save.
“This is not the answer Alec,” she said calmly, her words carrying through the water as though it were air. Her hands reached out and clasped his head on each side to further direct his attention, as though that was necessary. “You must go to the spring. Go to John Mark’s pool. Your healing will begin there, and then so will mine. Don’t let us down, Alec. Don’t let me down,” she commanded.
Alec felt his heart pounding hard within his chest. He was suddenly freed of the paralysis that had frozen him below the water. His legs pushed hard below him and he sprang straight up, sputtering and gasping, spitting up water as he stumbled and fell backwards out of the basin, clunking to the floor and rolling down a step.
The chanting around him stopped at his unexpected misperformance, and the priests all looked at him. Alec looked around at all of them for a moment, then stood again and looked back down in the water. There was nothing there.
Chapter 19 – Noranda’s Visit
Wild-eyed, Alec twisted around looking at all the silent priests who were watching him warily. “Did you see her?” he asked them all.
“What do you mean, Alec?” Chaer asked.
“There, in the tub with me just now, there was a girl, and she spoke to me, telling me I must go to the pool of John Mark,” Alec said breathlessly, looking into the blank faces of the others, then again staring intently down at the water.
The other men looked at one another askance. “There was no one else in there,” one said. “You went in and then you sprang out a moment later. I never saw its like before.”
“She spoke to me. She said my healing would begin at John Mark’s pool and so would hers,” Alec said in bewilderment and rising anger.
“Did you recognize her?” the bishop asked.
“Yes. She is someone I’ve promised to, to heal, but haven’t yet,” Alec admitted. He picked up his clothes and dressed. “Thank you, Father. Thank you all. Your service here has helped me; you’ve shown me the way to be healed. Thank you,” he repeated, now convinced there was nothing further to be done or gained in the cathedral.
“Come with me, Alec,” Chaer said with studied non-concern.
“He had a vision,” one priest whispered loudly to another. “It was a vision,” another priest agreed.
Alec and Chaer left the building and walked in silence to his workshop. “What occurred back there, Alec?” Chaer asked as they entered.
“I saw a girl. She was really there, and she spoke to me. She said that the prayers would not heal me, that I would have to go to John Mark’s pool to begin healing for myself and for her. She told me not to let everyone down,” Alec said, sitting down, still dumbfounded by the appearance of the girl he had pledged to save, a pledge he had not acted on or months now.
“This vision; you know who the girl is, I take it,” Chaer asked.
“Yes,” Alec admitted. “She can be healed. I started her healing when she was harmed, and I have to finish it, but now I’ve come west to Bondell instead of going east to help her,” Alec spoke with some agitation to the friar. “I need to go to her. I need to go to the pool for healing immediately, then I need to go to Noranda.”
Chaer looked at him gravely. “Go home today and rest, Alec. I’ll have a map for you tomorrow. Pack your supplies and get ready, then follow your vision.”
Alec thanked the friar who had tried to help him, then left the grounds of the cathedral and returned to the barracks at the palace. Despite hearing the sounds of sword practice in the armory, Alec went directly to his own bunk to lie down and think. There were many things he would need to do in order to be able to leave his post at the palace.
He thought about the chain of command he would have to leave in place behind him while he was gone. Pember was good, and Alec knew he was ready to command, but Whelan was senior. In Alec’s absence, he knew that Whelan would chaff at the authority of the junior officer. He’d have to solve that problem in order to make his departure work for the Goldenfields group and for Bondell.
Standing up, Alec grabbed his sword and went to practice for the first time in recent days. The number of recruits had grown again, and was now an impressive size, promising to become too large for the Goldenfields forces to train properly.
Alec began swinging his sword in practice with the best of the recruits, demonstrating concepts and strokes to deve
lop, as well as flaws they needed to correct. The recruits were raw in experience, but showed promising reaction time and ability, and Alec was confident they could become a worthy force, even as he felt himself wilting with exertion.
Alec walked over to where Whelan was working with a group of recruits. “We have more recruits than we can instruct effectively,” Alec said, and received Whelan’s agreement.
“When the next squad of trainers comes from Goldenfields, they need to be greater in number to do the job right,” he told the older officer. “Since we don’t have pigeons, I’m going to send you as a rider to Goldenfields tomorrow. You should arrive in plenty of time to allow the next group to be appropriately sized to serve the need here.”
“I’ll make an announcement at noon, so that any who want to deliver messages will have time to prepare them for you to carry,” Alec said. “Spend this afternoon picking out your horse and equipment so that you can get a good start tomorrow.”
Whelan enthusiastically accepted Alec’s plan, proof, Alec suspected, of how long the captain had been away from Goldenfields, and his desire to return home. Did a man like Whelan have a wife or family waiting for him back in the city, Alec wondered for the first time. He’d be in for some shocks at the changes in the Guard when he returned, but with Colonel Ryder there Alec was certain the situation would be handled well.
With that done Alec set about covertly preparing his own supplies for departure. He wasn’t going to announce his own journey until after Whelan was gone, but he wanted to be ready to depart quickly thereafter. After the noon announcement to the Guard, Alec left the palace to go to the market and purchase the things he needed, while many of the men and women from Goldenfields set about industriously writing letters and notes to their loved ones at home.
Alec browsed among several stalls in the market, purchasing some dried meat and fruit that would last during his journey to the pool. At the fruit stand he noticed that the elderly woman selling the dried apricots and apples had a film over her left eye.
The Loss of Power: Goldenfields and Bondell Page 26
