"If only what?" Farren said after a moment, his hand tugging slightly at his beard in what Kacey interpreted as an out-of-sorts gesture. Here was someone who was totally unaffected by his apparent expectations that people respond to him.
"What?" Rethia looked at him again, then to Kacey, to see what this man was talking about.
Kacey stifled a smile. "Rethia," she said, diverting them both from the futile attempt to straighten things out, "this is Farren; he used to be a wizard, and says he's worked with Father. This," she nodded downward, "is Reandn. They were attacked on the road."
Rethia nodded, paying little attention to Farren. If there was a fault to her way of healing it was her tendency to get over-involved. It was she who would catch Reandn's attention away from whoever Dela was—if anyone could. Her even features were set with precision, and if her mouth was a little small and her nose a little long, her eyes more than made up for it. Her medium length hair—thick, fair blonde—came down in heavy bangs that brushed against her eyebrows and often hid the full impact of her eyes.
Kacey looked down at her stubby fingers and sighed.
Farren caught her eye and tipped his head toward the doorway. Kacey wasn't slow to catch his meaning, and preceded him outside. "Will he survive?"
Kacey gave him a not-to-be-questioned look. "We'll have to wait and see. We'll keep poulticing, and we'll dose him as long as he'll swallow it. We'd do better if he'd try a little harder." But she thought about Farren's earlier words. He's been through enough already.
Farren looked down the road, and spoke almost as though she wasn't there. "He's too important to lose."
And what is that supposed to mean? But the question was lost as they simultaneously spotted a tired figure dragging along the road, a mule trailing behind.
"Tanager!" Farren said. "Graces, he must have run half the way."
Kacey rolled her eyes. "Two patients," she said, noting in the boy's approach the kind of lurching motion that meant he'd been too long active in the sun.
Tanager arrived winded and tired; Kacey watched him until she was realized that the gangly movement was merely Tanager being fifteen. After a slow, cool glass of water and time under a shade tree beside the house, his face lost its ruddy flush and he plied Farren with questions.
Farren, Kacey noted, withstood the barrage better than she would have. Including the insistence that see Reandn. "Are you sure I can't go—"
She ignored Farren's wince as she stood, her hands on her hips. "You've been told a dozen times, " she said with what she thought was restraint, "that Reandn's as good as he'll be for some while. You'll learn nothing more by gawking at him. Don't ask again!"
But even as she wondered at Farren's mildly amused reaction, she discovered she'd been caught—again—with her temper showing, and by the only man who had a say in such things. Her father.
Teayo's voice sounded from behind her. "Displaying a little hospitality for tired travelers?"
Kacey's hands fell to her sides, briefly inanimate, as she turned to face Teayo. "I didn't hear you coming."
Teayo climbed down from the sturdy two-wheeled cart that bore his considerable weight, and, eyebrows raised, said, "I'm not surprised. You were making too much of your own noise."
"She was sorely tried, Teayo," Farren said, rising to his feet.
Kacey watched with satisfaction as her father's attention diverted to Farren, his round, bearded face slacking for an instant in surprise.
"Farren?" he said, then, more confident, "Farren. You old finger-twister. Why the hell has it taken you this long to visit?"
Farren gave a short shrug. "Too many memories here of things I can't do anymore."
Teayo drew up his considerable chest and breathed noisily out his nose. "Hmmph. Well, yes, there's that. Then why now, hmm? Certainly not for the loving attention of my daughter."
Kacey tried to hide her frown, without much success. Tanager opened his mouth to contribute, seemed to consider the measurable bulk of the man before him, and sank back against the tree to take a gulp of water. Kacey, pleased to have him silenced at last, was more willing to face her father. "They have an injured friend, Father. Rethia's with him."
"Ah?" Teayo said.
"Tanager, as soon as you get your feet under you, take the mule and Meir Teayo's horse to the barn—and check on Sky while you're at it." Farren ignored the boy's open mouth of protest, and after a moment, Tanager got to his feet, wearing the expression of a martyr.
Farren accepted Teayo's helping hand and stood as well, brushing bits of bark from his short-sleeved tunic. "You're going to find this interesting, Teayo," he said, as they started toward the house. Kacey walked on the other side of her father, an ear attuned to the conversation. "But I want you to know right off it's probably dangerous."
"I was always an easy scare, Farren," Teayo said with a snort, stroking his dark beard at its grey corners. "What are you harboring in my house, eh?"
Farren's blue eyes crinkled in brief amusement. "Don't put it off so lightly. Neither of us is as young as we were, and the last time we dealt with magic, I had my own to counteract it."
Another snort; Teayo stopped short to face his friend. "I was going to say there's no such thing loose in the world anymore. But...perhaps I'll listen to you first." He glanced at Kacey, an expression that was meant to quell her protests at this talk of magic. But Kacey, too, was listening, and that alone was enough to get her father's attention.
Farren took a moment of thought, rubbing a finger along the slight crook in his nose. "A month ago, this man arrived in Maurant, obviously by advanced translocation. He was lucky enough to come out of it with his wits—but he doesn't trust me, he's nursing a grudge, and he's absolutely convinced there's magic being used against him. I followed him when he left for Solace—"
"Poor old finger twister. The lure of magic, eh?"
"Not just that, Teayo. Reandn's a King's Wolf—that speaks for many things. I don't have to know why he ended up in Maurant to know he comes from trouble. If someone has magic—and is misusing it—something's got to be done about it." He took a deep breath and found Teayo's dark brown gaze; Kacey was able to look straight at his piercing blue eyes without notice, and found a conviction she couldn't doubt. "I'm almost certain this person has killed, probably more than once. I've been trying to gain Reandn's confidence, but it's been useless so far."
Framed by beard, Teayo's lips pursed; he switched his gaze to Kacey.
"Poisoned arrow," she said. "In the arm. He's definitely got swampsnake venom in his system. He's had infusions, is about ready for fresh poultices, and I gave him half a dose of sweet syrup for his weight. Rethia's with him now."
"How long?"
Kacey and Farren exchanged a glance, neither sure who the question was directed at. Farren ventured, "It happened half a day ago. We've only been here a short while." He took a deep breath. "I don't want you to forget the danger in this. Someone is after him." He lifted a dull, thong-hung stone from his belt and let it dangle. "They used this to find him. They can probably do it again. But—"
"But you want this fellow alive," Teayo said. "Did you really think I'd toss you out? You don't have enough words to scare me into that, wizard. Let's go look at him."
As soon as they entered the house, Kacey saw that Rethia hadn't been wasting her time alone. Reandn's arm was already bound with a fresh drawing poultice, and Rethia hummed over him now, unaware of the bangs in her own eyes as she gently petted back sweat-damp hair, the whole of her concentration centered around the man who but for the slightest rise and fall of his chest could be dead.
Some of that lassitude was the drug, and Kacey said quietly, "He was violent before the sweet syrup, father. I think it's passed now, but..."
"If he gives us trouble I'll sit on him," Teayo said, standing back to appraise what he saw.
"Graces, Teayo, you'll surely kill him that way," Farren muttered.
"Hmmph," Teayo responded, moving in beside Rethia. She looked
up briefly, offering a quick smile of greeting.
Teayo did little more than finger the bandage, lift an eyelid, and check the heartbeat at Reandn's throat. "Good," he said, earning another smile. "You'll stay with him?"
"Tonight," Rethia said.
"I'll make sure you have what you need," Teayo said, nodding. "Don't tire yourself, and I'll be home in case he gets fussy again." He turned to Farren, maneuvering his bulk deftly between the beds. "I've got some good smoked ham waiting for a cold supper, Farren. I'll bet you and your boy are hungry."
"Now that you mention it—" Farren said, but his last words were all but drowned out by Tanager's startled remark from the doorway.
"That's it? That's all you're going to do?"
Teayo raised tufted eyebrows at the boy, whose stabling chores had been done with suspicious speed. "What would you suggest, boy? That I sit here and hold his hand? My daughter's already doing that. I can boil up some healer's potions, but my other daughter's already done that. The only other remedies for the swampsnake poisons are time and luck. Meanwhile, I do not intend to starve myself or your grandfather for the sake of looking useful."
Tanager looked like he wanted to protest but didn't dare; his dark eyes were riveted on Reandn's still form. Rethia turned to give him a brief glance with her brown-rimmed eyes, and Tanager flinched away from the oddness, the touch of...something there. Just like everyone else, Kacey thought. She wondered if Tanager had ever seen someone so gravely ill, and for the first time, felt sorry for him.
Farren, apparently, felt the same. He put a hand behind the boy's neck and said, "All of a sudden it seems more serious than when you were watching in the woods and saw your old grandfather get in a lucky blow, doesn't it."
Tanager nodded, looking again at the bed. "It... " he said, barely audible, "I...I figured he'd be fine once we got here."
Farren ruffled his grandson's sweat-grimy hair. "Maybe he will be, Tanager. We'll just have to wait. But there's no reason not to fill our bellies in the meanwhile."
"No..." Tanager said, sounding unconvinced. He followed mutely when Teayo led them through the sickroom and into the house proper.
Nibbling ham and bread, Kacey finally heard enough reminiscing to enable her to place memories of Farren—of two much younger men working in this house, combining spellwork with healing to combat malicious magic. Tanager fell asleep during the discourse; they left him in the common room while Teayo took his turn at the dishes and Kacey, accompanied by Farren, took a cut of ham and some bread to Rethia.
Kacey hesitated in the doorway, softly clearing her throat to let Rethia know she was there. Farren's breath tickled her ear as he crowded her to look in; his wordless reaction wasn't quite as blasé as hers when he saw the younger woman trimming Reandn's shaggy hair with a small pair of shears.
Kacey turned on him with a frown. "Don't even come in here if you're going to make noises like that."
Farren said, "He's proven to be a very private person. I'm not sure how he'll react to that...liberty."
"He needs the touch," Rethia said softly from the bedside, stopping her careful work.
Reandn did look much better, Kacey thought, her gaze taking in his features. She'd always been drawn to larger men, big framed men who echoed her father's build before he'd gathered weight. This man was leaner...but there was strength in his clean-cut frame. And his eyes...their intensity drew her. Kacey shook her head minutely, thinking of his hands pulling her down, his mouth on hers. Rethia looked up from where she knelt to brush the last of the loose light hairs from the pillow; her expression was sympathetic.
She always knows. Crossly, Kacey straightened her shoulders, glanced to make sure Farren hadn't noticed her thoughts, and quietly set the wooden trencher on the work table behind her. Beyond the table were two sets of floor-to-ceiling shelves, and what was left of last year's herbs. Drawers under the table held pre-boiled bandages and wraps, along with a few precious suturing needles. The bottom drawer, least used, held disturbing memories along with the more gruesome tools of their trade.
Kacey rounded the table to poke around in the upper drawers, making a mental list of the replacements they would need—distracting herself from futile thoughts. It was a familiar chore, sitting on the stool to make careful notes. The cots stretched down the long wall on her left, and the opposite wall held more windows than any one wall had a right to, but they kept the place cheery even in winter. Between them were several small heating stoves and a few more storage shelves. Kacey reminded herself to give them a good inventory, and make sure all the organic material remained fresh.
Farren, thankfully oblivious to Kacey's internal conundrums, eventually entered the room and bent to look more closely at Reandn. "When do you think I can talk to him?"
"Why, any time you want," Rethia said.
Kacey ducked her head and stared hard into an open drawer of bandages, trying hard not to smile at Farren's bemused silence.
"When," Farren finally asked, his patience exaggerated, "will he be awake?"
A glance from the corner of her eye showed Kacey the flicker of annoyance on her sister's face. Then that's what you should have asked, it meant. Aloud, she said, "Not before tomorrow morning, not the way he was dosed. Even then...." And, her attention back on Reandn and the one last hair she picked from the pillow, her voice trailed off.
After a another moment of covert observation, Kacey saw Farren, brows drawn, open his mouth and start to form the word "What?" But he was a fast learner, for he closed it again without asking.
"He'll be groggy for a while," Kacey supplied quietly, "and weak. I hope you weren't in any hurry."
"I'm not," Farren said, leaving the bedside to watch her short, quick fingers sort through the drawers. "I can't speak for him, though."
Kacey shrugged. "He won't have much choice." She closed the last drawer with her knee and turned back to her list. Farren stood by her side, but it was Rethia and Reandn he watched. Kacey was frowning at an inkblot when Farren's voice intruded again.
"How did you acquire a sister?"
She glanced up at him, deliberately penning out one more item while he waited. "It's not that great a mystery," she said. "The rest of her family died in a fire when she was six. She fell out of the loft window trying to escape, broke her leg, and came here. I was fifteen at the time." Eighteen years ago. Hard to believe so much time had passed. "Father wasn't about to give her up; she always needed...a gentle hand—and even more so after..." She stopped. They'd never quite figured out what had happened that day, only that something had.
Farren nodded, ignoring her unfinished sentence. "I can see she's...unique." At his waist, his fingers ran up and down the thong that held the dull stone he claimed was magic. "Very preoccupied. With what?"
Kacey shrugged and set her list aside to dry. "Thoughts," she said. "Why the roses have thorns, how hard the wind is blowing—or how to make Reandn feel better. If you think someone used that stone to find him, why don't you just get rid of it?"
"Hmm?" Farren looked down at the unremarkable object. "Oh, I think it's been discharged. But if it hasn't, and its owner tries to use it again, I might be able to get some taste of the magic."
"It sounds like you're playing with his safety." And ours. Kacey crossed her arms and waited for him to deny it.
"If he doesn't make it, this is my only remaining link to whoever is looking for him. To whoever has the magic." His voice gave a nod of regret to her accusation, but no sign of doubt.
For that quick moment, he frightened her. All at once she understood his priorities—and she saw the kind of determination that, were she Reandn, she might have chosen not to trust, either.
~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 15
Reandn floated, and he didn't care for it. He preferred a solid base to his world, but now he barely felt the bed on which he rested.
A bed. Not the woods. Not on Sky, lost in a swirl of numbness and pain. A bed. He wondered where, and thought with anger abou
t the last time he had woken from sickness and discovered himself in the hands of a wizard. Nothing had changed, for he was certain...nearly certain...he had felt magic here, as well.
This place smelled innocuous enough—sharp herbal scents and strong soap, with good kitchen smells layered thinly on top. Reandn cracked his eyes open, but his gaze wandered without his permission, and he barely knew more than before.
A woman sat on the cot next to his, he saw that much. He got the impression of clean facial lines and deep-set eyes heavily obscured by a thick fringe of fair hair. Not threatening. He closed his eyes, staring at lids upon which even the patterns of darkness wandered. A cloyingly sweet taste clung to his tongue and he wondered what he'd been given. It even occurred to him to wonder why he was alive. Hadn't he been poisoned? Hadn't he seen Dela, waiting for him?
Go away, he thought wearily as the blonde woman moved to the edge of his bed. The movement brought back pain that his thick thoughts had hidden.
Her hand touched his cheek; in her throat was a soft wordless expression of sympathy. Just what he wanted. He opened his eyes and said as distinctly as possible, "Go away."
The response was quiet laughter, pricking him into the effort of focusing. "What the Hells are you laughing at?"
"It just struck me funny," she replied, a more definite version of what he'd seen before. "How do you feel this morning?"
Like I should have died and somehow forgot to. But since he hadn't, it was time to find out just what had happened. "That depends on where I am."
"Little Wisdom," the young woman answered promptly. "Or, close to it, anyway. My father is a healer, and so is my sister. And me," she added in an afterthought. "I stayed with you last night. My name is Rethia."
"Farren brought me?" Reandn asked, finding a vague flicker of memory to draw on, Farren's arms around his body, clucking encouragement to Sky.
Touched By Magic (The King's Wolf Saga) Page 18
