The Temple at Landfall

by Jane Fletcher

  “Is it broken?” Ramon asked.

  “No. But your knee is very badly sprained,” Lynn said. “You’ll have to take it easy for a while.”

  Ramon pursed her lips thoughtfully, then raised her eyes to the top of the ravine and back to Lynn. “In that case, you’ll have to deal with the next lion that drops down here.”

  Lynn smiled, happy that she was being teased. The sounds of battle had faded, the snow lions presumably either killed or fled. Lynn helped Ramon to her feet. Climbing out of the chasm would not be easy, but with the fighting over, there should soon be others to help. Just as the thought went through Lynn’s mind, a head appeared over the top of the ravine. The initial anxiety on this new Ranger’s face changed to a cheery grin as she saw the body of the snow lion.

  “Ah, Kim. I see you sorted out the one we sent down to you. Thought we’d better share it. I knew you wouldn’t have wanted to miss out on all the fun.”

  From the way the Ranger’s expression had changed to relief, Lynn was sure the banter masked real concern. Lieutenant Ramon clearly took it in good humor. She looked up and answered in kind.

  “Thank you, Sergeant Coppelli. Now do you think your spirit of generosity would extend to a rope to help us get out?”

  Chapter Six—The Aftermath of Battle

  Someone was lighting lamps in the main barrack room of the staging post. One by one, they blossomed into existence—steady, unwavering circles of light to supplement the manic flickering of the fires. Some people sat in pensive silence in the gentle glow, while elsewhere in the hall, there was talking and nervous laughter and the occasional stifled groan. Then from outside came grim shouts and the sound of horses as more bodies were brought up from the valley below. Captain LeCoup strode through the center of the room, her crisp orders imposing a sense of purpose on the activity as the living and the dead were separated.

  Lynn knelt in one corner of the room, surrounded by the worst of the wounded. In front of her lay a blood-soaked Guard who somehow had survived the mauling she had received, though she would never wield a sword again, even if she made it through the night. Her right arm had been torn from its socket, and only the freezing of the snow had stopped her from bleeding to death before she could be brought to the fort. Blocking out the activity around her, Lynn called on the healer sense, reaching out to seal the ruptured veins, ease the trauma of wrecked flesh, and strengthen the pulse of life that beat within the woman’s breast. Then finally, she bestowed the gentlest of healing sleeps.

  When she had finished, Lynn sat back on her heels and examined the woman’s face, noting the shallow breath and deadly pallor of the skin, but there was no more she could do. Now it was in the hands of the Goddess.

  A Ranger came and knelt beside her. “If you please, Madam Imprinter. I have a little of the healer sense. Not much, I’m afraid. The best healer in the squadron is Carma, and she is...” The woman broke off and pointed to one of the two injured Rangers who lay close at hand, awaiting Lynn’s attention. “But if I can be of any use...”

  “You can stanch bleeding? Ease pain and inflammation?”

  The Ranger nodded. “Yes, a little. You tend to get quite a lot of practice at it in the Rangers. But usually Carma takes care of such things. I’m definitely the woman for minor injuries.”

  “Okay.” Lynn met the Ranger’s earnest expression. “If you do what you can, and make sure no one is more seriously injured than they realize, it will be a help. And if there’s anyone who’s not immediately critical but beyond your skill, sedate them if they’re in pain, and I’ll get to them when I’ve finished with these women here.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The Ranger nodded again and set off to the task.

  Lynn moved on to the next of her patients, taking them in order of seriousness. The responsibility was daunting—lives depended upon the decisions she made—but she had no time to waste in worrying. When the final reckoning was taken after the fighting, it was found that three of the Guards were still alive, although only one stood any chance of ever returning to active duty. In addition, two Rangers had suffered serious wounds. However, their cases were better. At least they both had all their limbs intact.

  The last of the women who had been brought to Lynn’s corner of the room was Sister Smith, dragged unconscious from the ruins of the carriage, blood oozing from a deep gash at the back of her head, but seemingly otherwise unharmed. Yet forcing herself to be honest, Lynn had left the comatose Sister until last not just because of her appraisal of the level of injury. Nine Guards had been killed, and while Lynn had seen the civilian driver and one junior Sister walking through the hall, stunned, there had been no sign of the driver’s young second or the other Sister. It was only to be feared that they had died in the crash and now lay among the dead. And the blame for it all lay with Smith and her absurd, arrogant ambition.

  Lynn paused for a moment, looking down at the unconscious woman. The thin gauze mask lay flat, revealing the contours of the Sister’s lower face for the first time. Smith’s chin was nondescript, but her mouth was surprisingly full. A mirthless smile twisted Lynn’s own lips. She would have laid a wager on them being thin and tight. Lynn shook her head, trying to dismiss her feelings of anger. Celaeno was the one who would judge them all some day. In the meantime, she had a job to do.

  Lynn laid her hand on Smith’s brow, letting her senses flow into the woman, tracing the electric pulses of nerves to read the state of the body. There was a large lump at the back of the skull, but no bleeding in the brain, at least not yet, and it was the work of minutes for Lynn to dispel the swelling that might put pressure on the delicate tissues. Then Lynn probed into the bones, searching for fractures in the skull. It was whole, but a faint dissonance twanged on Lynn’s consciousness. She followed the tingling trail, like a fisherwoman reeling in a line, and reached the fine, hairline crack at the base of the spine, little more than the suggestion of a flaw. No harm had been caused yet, but...

  Lynn looked again at Smith’s unconscious face. The weakness in the spine was a lottery. Maybe Smith could ride all the way to the western border on horseback without coming to harm, or maybe she might roll over too quickly in bed and the bone would snap, paralyzing her for life. Was it what she deserved? That also was a question for the Goddess. Lynn redoubled her effort into bonding the bone. She would do her best, but whichever way it went, it would be weeks before Smith could safely be moved from the staging post. Landfall at Landfall was out of the question.

  *

  Midnight was drawing close before Lynn had finished tending to everyone who needed her care. In a haze of tiredness, she wandered over to where LeCoup and Ramon sat by the fire to give her final report on the wounded. The sergeants, including Coppelli and the Ranger with healer skills, were also called in for the briefing. Three lions had broken out of the Rangers’ cordon that afternoon and would now be in full flight, although still together with any luck. It would be a long hard ride to track them down before they set upon some unfortunate hill farmer, but with Smith’s injury, there was no argument about delaying the Rangers from their work. While the main section of the squadron was away, Lynn could remain in safety at the staging post with the wounded.

  “Do you know how many Rangers will not be fit to ride tomorrow?” LeCoup asked Lynn.

  “There’s the two you sent to me, plus one with a broken arm and one with a deep cut. I’ve stitched it up, but she should go carefully for a while or it might rip open again.” Lynn counted the women off on her fingers, and then turned to the other healer. “Do you know of any more?”

  “Only the lieutenant.”

  “I’ll be fine by morning,” Ramon snapped out immediately.

  Lynn was not put off. “Oh yes, your knee. How is it?”

  “Like I said, it will be fine by morning.”

  The Ranger healer shook her head in denial but said nothing. Ramon glared in response. Captain LeCoup’s eyes shifted between the two stubborn faces and then settled on Lynn. “Madam I
mprinter. Would you be able to give your assessment of the state of the lieutenant’s health?”

  Ramon’s lips drew together in a tight line, but she obligingly stuck her leg out for Lynn to examine. It did not take long. The healer had dispersed the swelling, but only time would mend the torn ligaments.

  Lynn met Ramon’s eyes slightly apologetically and said, “I think the lieutenant will be lucky if she can stand on her leg tomorrow, let alone walk.”

  “I’ll be able to ride,” Ramon asserted.

  “But you can’t fight snow lions on horseback. Ask the Guards,” Coppelli said in firm tones, attracting a glare from her friend.

  In the end, the decision was left until the morning. If Ramon was able to walk, she would go with the rest; if not, she would be left in command of the fort. In her own mind, Lynn had no doubt of what the outcome would be.

  *

  One of the injured Guards did not survive the night, dying in the hard, cold hours just before dawn, but the rest of the patients did well. A succession of Rangers took nurse duty, waking Lynn only when some crisis appeared imminent and allowing her to catch a few hours of interrupted sleep. She was yawning conspicuously when she joined Lieutenant Ramon outside the barrack room to watch the rest of the squadron assemble in the central square soon after breakfast.

  Lynn had been unsurprised to learn that the lieutenant was unable to put any weight on her leg, but Ramon had found two sticks to use as crutches. Now she stood leaning on them heavily. Her tight scowl showed that she was resigned to staying behind but not happy about it. Lynn hovered close by.

  Sergeant Coppelli urged her horse over to where the two women stood. “Hey, Kim. Don’t look so sour, or I’ll come over and kick your sticks away.”

  The gibe succeeded in putting a defiant grin on Ramon’s face. “You want to give it a try?”

  “I might be forced to. Purely for your own good, to remind you that you’re only human, like the rest of us. You don’t want to risk becoming vain and conceited, because then no one will love you anymore.”

  At that, Ramon gave a full laugh, but she had no chance to make a further retort. Captain LeCoup’s voice rang out, calling the Rangers to order. The squadron members formed themselves into a disciplined column, and then, two abreast, they filed out through the gates of the fort. The clink of the horse harnesses blended with the thud of hooves in the crisp morning air.

  Sister Ubbi, the driver, and the two less seriously injured Rangers also came out to watch them go. Once the last of the riders had left the fort, the driver and Rangers went to push the gates shut, dropping the bar into place. Lynn had already seen that the second staging post was an identical copy of the first, even to the position of the watchtower in the corner.

  As the sound of the riders faded away, the two injured Rangers went inside in search of warmth, and the driver, Jeanne, picked up an axe and headed toward a pile of logs stacked against the side of the stables, walking in a purposeful manner that declared she had appointed herself odd-job-woman for the small group left behind.

  Sister Ubbi fluttered to one side, pitiful in her confusion now that she was without Smith to obey or Quento to confide in. The eyes above the mask were red-rimmed and swollen. It had been small consolation for her that Quento’s broken neck had been a quicker death than those of the Guards. And Lynn had learned the driver’s second had also been killed by the snow lions. The jolt from a pothole had knocked her from the top of the carriage before the bridge had been reached. Hers was the loss that had touched Lynn the keenest. The girl had been sixteen at the most, an ordinary temple employee. If anything, her death was even more senseless than the rest, and it was somehow more terrible that her life had been taken unnoticed by any at the time.

  “Is there...Is there anything I c-c-can do?” Sister Ubbi was in desperate need of direction. However, it was not totally compassion that prompted Lynn’s reply, which was spoken very slowly and clearly, as if to an anxious child.

  “You know that Sister Smith must stay still. I have put her into a very deep sleep to aid the healing so she will not move and harm herself by accident. It would be helpful if you went and kept watch over her, and if she seems to be stirring, come and get me at once.” Actually, Smith was so deeply out that the end of the world wouldn’t wake her, but Ubbi was not to know.

  The junior Sister looked at Lynn as if she had been thrown a lifeline. “Would it help if I read prayers over her?”

  “Prayers are never in vain.” It took all her years of training at the temple for Lynn to keep a straight face as she quoted one of Smith’s own favorite clichés. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Ramon was not coping quite so well, but Ubbi departed, unaware that any humor was being had at her expense.

  “How long will Smith have to stay asleep?” Ramon’s tone was deliberately innocent.

  “It might be...beneficial if she remains out for”—Lynn pursed her lips—“maybe two weeks.”

  “Beneficial?” Ramon deliberately did not ask for whom, but the glint in her eye made it clear she had taken Lynn’s meaning. “We are lucky to have such a competent healer at hand, Madam Imprinter.”

  Lynn bit her lip to hide her smile. “Actually, I’d prefer it if we stuck with Lynn and Kim. At least when Sister Ubbi is not around.”

  “That’s fine by me. I’ve never been too keen on formality.”

  “I’ve noticed. I heard what Sergeant Coppelli said to you. I think if a sergeant in the Guards spoke to a lieutenant like that she’d be in front of a court-martial before the words had left her mouth.”

  Ramon laughed. “Which is one very good reason for not being in the Guards.”

  “So you weren’t tempted to join them?” Lynn’s question was not totally serious.

  “Not for a second. I’ve wanted to be a Ranger ever since...” Ramon paused, as a shadow crossed her face. “Well, for quite some time. I joined the Militia when I was sixteen. We all have to start there. As soon as I’d completed my two years’ probation, I applied to take the entrance tests for the Rangers. But the Guards...” She gave a scornful snort. “I feel sorry for them. The snow lions weren’t impressed by the pretty uniforms, and the Guards don’t have a lot else going for them.”

  Lynn tilted her head to one side and observed, “I know the Guards, the Rangers, and the Militia don’t have much in the way of compliments for each other.”

  Ramon laughed in acknowledgment. “Well, I know a lot of Rangers look down on the Militia, but personally, I have more respect for them than I do for the Guards. They may not be the world’s best soldiers, but at least they do a worthwhile job, rounding up drunks and street thieves. And there are some good women in the Militia who stay there because they have family ties that don’t leave them free to join the Rangers.” Again, Ramon’s face grew solemn. There were clearly other memories at play, and then she turned and began to hobble toward the entrance to the barrack room. Lynn kept pace beside her.

  “But you’re right about us not standing on our rank like the Guards.” Ramon reverted to the previous subject, though Lynn had the feeling it was a deliberate shift of conversation. “Our work can be dangerous. Like yesterday. Our lives depend on each other. If someone has just saved your neck, you aren’t going to throw the book at them if they forget to call you ma’am, and over the years I’ve lost count of how many holes Chip and I have pulled each other out of.”

  “Chip?” Lynn queried.

  “Sergeant Coppelli.”

  “Why is she called Chip?”

  “An old joke, and not one that is funny enough to be worth repeating,” Ramon said, smiling. “We’re good friends, and I don’t count myself as particularly senior to her. Chip has been in the Rangers a few years more than me. When I joined, she was my patrol corporal. I caught up with her on the promotion ladder, so for some time we were both sergeants together. Then three months ago, Lieutenant Ritche had an accident, and I got the commission. But between Chip and me, it could only have come down to a toss of a
coin.”

  They had reached the door of the barrack room. Lynn raised her hand to push, when it was wrenched open. Sister Ubbi stood on the other side, her eyes wide with fright. “Please, Imprinter, could you come? I think I saw Sister Smith’s finger move.”

  Only with great effort did Lynn stop her own eyes from rolling to the skies in despair, and as she accompanied the agitated Sister, she thought she heard the faint sound of Lieutenant Ramon’s chuckle follow her down the barrack room.

  Chapter Seven—Playing with Fire

  The horse made a huffing sound and shuffled its hooves restlessly. Lynn patted its neck to comfort it and then examined the raw lines of the parallel slashes on its side, her healer sense probing beneath the visible layers to feel out the extent of the damage and recovery.

  “That lion nearly did for you, didn’t it?” she said aloud.

  The horse turned its head to look at her, its eyes rolling wide, for all the world as if facing for the first time a worrying and hitherto unconsidered possibility.

  “It’s all right. You’re going to be fine.”

  And it would be. Again she patted the horse. The cuts were healing cleanly and there was no permanent injury to the muscle underneath. Within days, it would be fit and eager for exercise. Lynn’s face grew thoughtful as an idea occurred to her. Maybe she could take the chance to ride the horse a few times, tell Sister Ubbi that it was necessary for her to monitor the animal’s recovery. Of course, Sister Smith would not accept the statement without detailed questions, but Smith was in no condition to ask them.

  Lynn lay the palms of both hands against the flanks of the horse and let her senses sink in. She could feel the glory of the animal, the strength, the power of its muscles, the long limbs meant to run, and also something else—the horse was more than a little hungry. A quick glance confirmed that the manger was empty. Food for the animals was stored next door to the stables. Lynn trotted into the barn and was picking up a suitably sized bale when a shadow fell across her.