“He’s bleeding!” Tarra exclaimed as she returned to the room.
The healer let out an exasperated sigh and turned to face the young woman. “Thank you for starting the water. Now why don’t you go help your brothers collect payment?” the healer suggested.
Tarra hesitated. Finally, with a heavy sigh, she turned and left the room.
The healer continued her work. She readied various leaves and ground herbs, arranging them on the end of the bed. When finished, she went to the hearth to check on the water. When it was boiling, she ladled a cupful into the ewer, stirring it with a strange, twisted root. Returning to the bedrooms, she began mixing the prepared herbs, in precise amounts and specific order. She dropped each ingredient into the mixing brew, chanting in a slow rhythmic voice as she did so. Occasionally, as the ingredient entered the brew, a slight glow would illuminate the top of the ewer.
When all the ingredients had been added, she wrapped both hands around the ewer and began chanting even louder, her head weaving back and forth. The ewer began to glow and a column of steam rose from the surface of the brew.
She stopped chanting and turned toward her patient. Very gently and using her fingers, she began spreading the concoction onto the wounds left by the shackles and the swords. The wounds bubbled and oozed white puss as she did so. This she wiped off with a clean white cloth. She moved down to the end of the bed and did the same for his ankles.
When she was finished, she set the ewer down and went back to the hearth. She ladled more hot water, this time into an earthenware cup. She added some ground leaf and mixed it. She carried it outside to speed its cooling. When it was cool enough to drink, she brought it back to the bedroom, lifted Esselles’ head, and poured it into his mouth. His body’s natural reflex helped him swallow it down.
When she had poured the entire contents down his throat, she set his head back down on the pillow and covered his body with the homespun blanket that had been rolled up on the side of the bed. She tucked it in around him and then left to find the others.
“Leave him covered up,” she told Harrel as he handed her the burlap sack containing the chickens and vegetables that constituted her payment. “The fever will help the medicine to work. He should come to tomorrow. If his fever has not broken by then, come find me and I will administer to him again.”
“Thank you, madam healer. We appreciate all you’ve done for us, lately.”
“I just wish I could have done more,” she said quietly, thinking of their parent’s death the week before. They had been too full of uruk arrows and too far gone by the time she had arrived.
Harrel’s face was stoic as he hugged his sister to him. “We are fortunate to be alive and back on our farm,” he said. “And we owe our lives to those two. Anything you can do for him will be greatly appreciated.”
“I have done all within my power,” she said. “The rest is up to him. But he seems a strong one. I think he will make it.”
*
“Remember,” Renamir said. “Wait until an opportune time. You must kill as many barons as possible. But above all, you must kill Baron Toliver. He is the one responsible for this entire scheme to attack your home world.”
“I’ll remember. You just be sure to get me out of there,” Esselles-demon answered.
“I’ll be there. After you attack, head toward the ecclesiastical entrance. I’ll help you escape,” Renamir assured him.
“I had best return to the barracks before I am missed. I will see you in the morning.”
The demon reached out with his mind, back to the location he had left, and folded space. He found himself back inside the barracks head. He returned to his assigned bunk and feigned sleep.
*
“He came to about a quarter hour ago, but I’m not sure his fever broke. He seems to be suffering from delirium,” Tarra said as she hurried her brother back to the house in the gathering dusk. “He’s been babbling about him being a demon and having to stop himself. I gave him water, and tried to calm him, but he was still very agitated. What should we do? Should we call the healer?”
“I don’t think so,” Harrel said. “He told of a demonic double back in the cage.” He had barely finished talking when he tripped and stumbled to the ground. He looked to see what had tripped him and spotted a wolf pup, lying on the ground, tongue hanging out. It was obviously suffering from malnutrition and dehydration.
“Oh, look at the poor thing,” Tarra said. She moved to pick it up. Its eyes went wide and it scrambled in an attempt to move away, but it lacked the strength. Tarra scooped it up into her arms. “The little thing is dying of thirst,” she said.
“That little thing is going to grow into a big thing that will eat our livestock,” Harrel said, giving the pup a wary eye.
“We lose more livestock to disease than we do to wolves,” Tarra said with a reproaching look.
Harrel looked at her face and knew he wasn’t going to win the argument. “Bring it along.”
As they entered the house, they could hear Esselles talking to Jorgan. “You don’t understand,” he was saying. “My friends are in danger. They think it was me that came back with them, but it was a demon. And they can read my thoughts.”
“Who are ‘they’?” Jorgan asked.
“I’m not sure who all of them are. One of them, Belgar, is dead. Another, Renamir, was riding south, staying near the demon. And I heard them talk about taking me to Malicar’s place.”
Harrel and Tarra entered the room.
“Harrel!” Esselles said upon seeing him enter the room. “You’ve got to get me a horse, or a wagon. I’ve got to get back to Ostar right now. My friends are in danger.”
“I just heard you telling Jorgan,” he said.
“Fine, then you understand my urgency,” Esselles said.
“I do, but that is about all I understand,” Harrel said. “Now I know you want to leave right away, but it has been three days. If your friends have survived this long, they can make it another ten minutes. Explain this to us more now that I can really listen, not being in a cage waiting to be sold as a slave.”
“But something changes today and I don’t know who might die,” Esselles exclaimed. “I’m supposed to be working the baron conclave at the festival tomorrow and I have a memory of them saying, ‘See you after the conclave.’ I’m thinking that’s the whole reason they abducted me. To get into the conclave. Who knows what havoc the demon could wreak in there?”
“You are right, of course,” Harrel agreed. “Jorgan, go saddle up a horse.”
“He’s in no condition to ride back to Ostar on a horse,” Tarra objected. “Let me take him on the wagon.”
“I understand that you want to help him, but we’re going to need every hand to harvest the remaining crop. If we don’t, we’ll all starve this upcoming winter.”
“Fine. Then when I am in Ostar, I’ll hire a few hands to come back and help with the harvest. There’s got to be plenty of people who would help for a share of the harvest. We’ll finish faster than if I had stayed.”
“Or I’ll gladly pay for the hired help,” Esselles said.
“Okay. Extra hands would definitely help. And Tarra is right about you not looking fit to ride a horse,” Harrel said. “Go round up the wagon.”
“Here,” Tarra said, handing Harrel the wolf pup before heading out the door after her brother, Jorgan.
“Hey,” Esselles exclaimed, “that looks like the same wolf pup that was licking my face at the beach. The markings look identical.”
“We found it in the field,” Harrel said. “It looks in pretty bad shape.”
“If it’s the same one, it has no mother. The uruks killed her for dinner my first night in the cage.”
Harrel’s stomach turned slightly. “Well, if I read Tarra right, she’s adopted it.”
“Adopted what?” Tarra asked, returning to the room.
“The wolf pup. Esselles says the uruks killed its mother.” Harrel left out the part about the w
olf mother being dinner.
“That’s too bad,” Tarra said, but quickly turned to the business at hand. “We have the wagon ready, whenever you are.”
“Let’s get on the road then,” Esselles said. “Thanks for all you’ve done having me healed,” he said to Harrel, clasping forearms in farewell.
“Thank you for getting us out of that cage. I would not have lasted long as a slave.”
“Me either.” They smiled at each other and then Esselles took his leave.
He joined Tarra on the wagon and she immediately shook the reins to get the horses moving. They rumbled down the farm road towards their village.
Later, on the road, she asked, “Do you think we will make it in time?”
“I hope so,” Esselles said. “If we ride all night, we should reach Ostar before noon. The festivities start in the morning. Hopefully, they won’t make their move until later on in the day.”
“I’ll ride as fast as I can,” Tarra said.
“Just don’t neglect the horses,” Esselles said. “We don’t need one of them pulling up lame.”
“I won’t,” Tarra assured him. They reached the main imperial road and turned the wagon south towards Point Blank and Tyris Ostar beyond.
Later on, the conversation turned to Esselles’ disappearing pendant.
“Are you serious?” he asked in response to her description of what had happened when she had lifted the pendent. He pulled back his shirt and looked at his chest. “I can see it clear as day.”
“So could we, when we had pulled it away from your chest. But as soon as it dropped back to your skin, it disappeared again,” she explained.
“I wonder if Mrs. Kredo knows about that. She must,” he conjectured.
“Who’s Mrs. Kredo?” Tarra asked.
“She’s the mother of my best friend, Talbot.”
“So, why would she know about the necklace?” Tarra asked, a little confused.
“Because she’s the one who gave it to me. Talbot died last year. She had no other children and as we were all very close, she decided to give it to me.”
“How did he die?” Tarra asked.
“Defending a family from gromja.”
“You sound like you miss him,” she said, turning to look at his face silhouetted by the setting sun. She knew his profile very well as she had been staring at it for three straight days. She fought back an urge to reach out and stroke his cheek.
“Very much,” Esselles said. “He and I grew up together, moved to Ostar together, and joined the guard together.”
Esselles began telling her about Talbot and their early adventures in the guard. He was still telling the stories when they reached Point Blank around midnight. Esselles had Tarra drive the wagon to the Legion outpost.
Unfortunately, the guard on duty refused him admittance and refused to let him see the captain stationed there. “Even if I decided it was worth waking him up,” the guard said, “I wouldn’t be able to. He left this morning for the Victory Festival in Ostar.”
“Then who is in charge? I need to talk to someone about an urgent situation,” Esselles explained.
“You can talk to me, and if I deem it important, I’ll go find the duty officer.”
Esselles explained how he had to get back to Ostar to stop an assassination scheme. As he did not know what their plans really were, he had to guess. But his lack of knowledge of what was really going on hindered him in answering the guard’s questions. He was unable to convince him of his own credentials or of the impending assassination. He decided to give up and hit the road again.
By alternating turns sleeping and driving, they were able to reach Tyris Ostar by early morning. However, they exhausted the horses doing such. So Esselles drove the wagon to the Kredo farm on the outskirts of the city.
Even this far out, Coronation Boulevard was filled with people and colored banners hung from all the buildings along the roadside.
Griff came running and barking to greet them as Esselles climbed down from the wagon in front of the small farmhouse.
Charene stepped out of the doorway and exclaimed, “My lord! What has happened to you?”
“I was in a melee,” he answered looking down at his tattered clothes, white bandages, and numerous scrapes and bruises. “Gromja were slave hunting up north.” He avoided telling most of the tale in order to keep his visit short. “I’m okay, but we need to change horses so I can quickly get back to the city.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be working the festival?” Charene asked. “You can’t show up looking like that. Run inside and put on one of Talbot’s uniforms.”
“Tarra,” Esselles said as Tarra came around the wagon. “This is Charene. Talbot’s mother.”
“You knew Talbot?” Charene asked.
“No, but Esselles was telling me about him,” Tarra answered.
“Tarra brought me back in her wagon since the wagon I had gone there in was no longer capable of bringing me back,” he said, choosing his words carefully.
“Well, why don’t you come inside and have a drink while Selly is changing,” Charene said to Tarra.
Charene led them into the house and then headed to the kitchen. When Esselles returned a few minutes later, dressed in a guardsman uniform, he found Charene and Tarra drinking from earthenware mugs.
“We really have to hurry. Can we leave the wagon here? It will be faster through the crowds on horseback,” he said. “Also, can we borrow two of your horses and swap them back when we return? Ours are exhausted.”
“Of course,” she said, leading them out to the stables.
They saddled their horses, said their goodbyes, and headed out onto the road.
Coronation Boulevard was filled with townsfolk heading into the city for the Victory Celebration. When it became too congested to travel, Esselles led them north through the outskirts and around the city to the small gate through the north wall. He turned them down Dipper Street, towards Northern Avenue.
Northern Avenue was a curb to curb people. It was difficult for Esselles and Tarra to make their way across it to Pike Street, but they eventually managed. They stopped in front of the Legion barracks.
“Wait here,” Esselles said as he dismounted and went to the guard station.
“What are you doing here?” the Legionnaire on guard duty asked. “I thought you were working the conclave.”
“It is a long story,” Esselles said. “Is Captain Falconer about?”
“No. He’s at the palace.”
“How about Walket? Randol? Flin? Andor?” Esselles asked in succession, getting a shake of the head with each one.
“No, they’re all working the festival,” the guard said. “This place is practically empty.”
“Well, I have to run in and grab some things,” Esselles said.
“You’re not with your unit. You’ll have to sign in,” the guard said, pushing the ledger towards Esselles.
Esselles scribbled his name at the bottom and headed down the hallway. When he reached his locker, he pulled out two daggers and strapped them to his belt. He looked for this sword and badge but could not find them.
“Shit,” he said aloud. “The demon must be wearing them. Damn, I could have grabbed Talbot’s sword off the mantle.”
He began walking down the row of lockers until he found one that had a longsword in it. “I hope the owner doesn’t mind,” Esselles said as he strapped it to his belt.
“Do you know where Landir is stationed?” he asked the guard upon returning to the entrance.
“I think he’s in the Great Hall this morning,” the guard answered.
“Thanks,” Esselles said, hurrying out the door.
“Hey! You forgot to sign out,” the guard called to his retreating form.
“I’ve never seen the castle before,” Tarra said as they approached the large portcullis that separated the castle grounds from the rest of the city.
“Today won’t be a good day to do so,” Esselles said as he dismounted.
“But I’ll bring you back for a tour someday.” He handed Tarra his reins. “I’m going to head into the castle. Your best bet is to head that way,” he said, pointing south down Northern Avenue and handing her a small pouch of coins. “The markets are there and you ought to be able to find the help you need. Use my coin as needed. I have no idea how long I’ll be detained, so if I don’t meet you back at the Kredo farm this evening, leave without me.”
“I can wait for you,” Tarra said, trying to hand the coin purse back.
“Yeah, but can the harvest?” he asked with a smile. “Harrel will kill me if I keep you longer than a day. I may be debriefing for days. I don’t know. But I’ll head up to your farm when this is over.”
“Okay. You be careful,” she said, hugging him.
“You too,” Esselles said as he wrapped his arms around her.
He watched her disappear into the crowd then turned towards the castle gate. He approached the guardsman on duty and said, “I must get inside to speak with Captain Landir Falconer of the First Imperial Legion.” Unfortunately, he did not recognize either of the guards.
“May we see your pass?” the guardsman asked politely.
“I haven’t got a pass,” Esselles said.
“No pass, no admittance,” the guard replied.
“Look, I’m a member of the guard. It is very important that I speak with Captain Falconer.”
“Young man, there are plenty of places where you can have a guardsman’s uniform made for you. If you were really a guardsman, you’d be wearing a badge. Now run along.”
“I have a badge,” Esselles said. “Esselles Hawkblood, Fifth Company, Second Squad.”
The guardsman looked his uniform over. “So where’s your badge then?”
“A demon is wearing it,” Esselles blurted out before realizing how strange it sounded.
“All right. Enough wasting our time. Move along,” the second guardsman said.
“You don’t understand,” Esselles insisted. “People are in danger. There is a demon masquerading as me and he is inside the palace, right now. He’s wearing my uniform and he is wearing my badge.”
“Young man, don’t you think we would become a little suspicious if a horned, scaly, large-toothed guard came up, even if he was wearing your uniform and badge?” the guardsman asked. His partner laughed.
Demonified (Hawkblood Chronicles Book 1) Page 18
