*
The next night, Joachim sat in the antechamber outside of his library study with the boys and Gaius Sartor. His physician, Dale Kirse wrapped an oiled cloth containing ice and a stinking concoction that burned and tingled when applied to stiff joints around their heavily bruised limbs. Jolan Kine was away at the pub in Pirim Village talking to the townspeople about their efforts to contain the evils Kreeth had unleashed across the land.
While Gaius and Joachim talked, Niam tried hard to listen to what was being said, but let out a yelp of pain.
“Hey! Careful with that!”
Kirse looked at him unsympathetically. “You’re going to hurt. There’s no way around that.”
Niam gave him back a scolding look of his own. “I’m not sure I like this stuff.”
“Grin and bear it, Maldies,” Joachim laughed. “It only gets worse as you learn more.”
“I think I’m ready to drop out of this school sir,” Niam said humorlessly. His stomach hurt fiercely. His head throbbed. His arms and legs felt like they had been run over by a wagon wheel. Repeatedly.
“Only way out of this one is death.”
“At least I’d sleep well,” Niam complained.
Maerillus threw a pillow at him.
“Hey! I feel sick,” he fired at his rich friend. “Wait until I’m dead and then throw all you want.”
“How long have you felt like this,” Kirse cut in.
“Since I sat down,” Niam mumbled.
“Over exertion,” The physician said as he finished wrapping the last of his injuries, and then dipped his hand into the icebox, preparing another wrap for Davin. Niam had no idea what was wrong with Kirse. The man’s bedside manner was usually much more empathetic, but with all of the bodies he had examined lately between Pirim Village and Havel’s Dock, he reckoned that Kirse was as jittery as everyone else. A curfew had been in effect for almost two months now, and people were increasingly restless. Especially since the constant patrols only seemed to help slow down the attacks and disappearances.
The physician’s sleeves were stained a deep purple. Apparently Davin noticed it, too, because as Kirse took his arm and began wrapping it in the ice packs and stinking bandages, he said, “I didn’t know there were any poke berries still around this time of year.”
Kirse looked at the back of his sleeve in surprise. “Must have gotten into some old ones in my shed. I haven’t had time to pull the weeds up with everything going on.” Niam scrunched his eyes up when Maerillus looked over at him. Kirse’s voice was abrupt and sharp. Unusually so.
“How many to date?” Gaius asked Joachim somberly.
“Twelve bodies in the basement, six from the racks, two killed last month, the men who disappeared on the cleanup detail, Mayor Braun, five from Pirim Village, six in the vicinity of Old Flood, and five more out past Havel’s Dock, little Corey, Niam’s brother and sister . . . and now one of my secretaries cannot be found, so upwards of thirty-nine missing and murdered because of the scum bag.”
Gaius closed his eyes. “That trall does most of it’s killing at night. The curfew has helped some.”
“Not enough,” Joachim’s voice was full of regret. “And they’re all my responsibility to protect.”
“We’ll finish this. You Know Caledon and Selvika are as serious about their Black Arts laws as we are here,” Gaius said.
“Not soon enough,” Joachim grunted. “And I also know that there’s as much corruption in Caledey and Winstron as there is here, which always plays into a sorcerer’s hands. Corruption to them is like shade to cockroaches.”
“Speaking of which, what have you done regarding the Eason’s involvement in all of this?”
Joachim feigned innocence by raising his hands. “Me? Nothing. The snows have made the passes impractical.”
Gaius made a face. “This is a damnable game board, you know.”
“Oh yes. And I’m forced at the moment to position my pieces well,” Joachim replied.
“That’s only going to fly until Eason gets more of his talons into this.”
“He already has his talons in this,” Joachim flicked his hand dismissively.
Gaius’s face darkened. “Damn it man, were you going to say something about it to me or wait until his boot spurs were an inch into our throats?”
Niam noted Maerillus shifting uncomfortably out of the corner of his eye. He had also noted that they were increasingly privy to more and more private talks between Joachim and Mr. Sartor. But to be honest, he wished he didn’t know some of what he now knew, and he wondered how Maerillus was able to put up with all of this political intrigue.
Joachim’s voice was matter-of-fact, without the least hint of annoyance. “His own troops have moved into Lamir and several other villages just outside of the Valleys.”
“What?” Gaius almost shouted.
“Yes. But there’s still a lot of snow blocking the passes. He won’t be able to do anything here anytime soon.”
“If you got half as fired up and onerous about this as you did other things, you’d have taken care of this months ago,” Gaius said accusingly.
Niam leaned over and whispered, “They’re cute when they argue.”
Davin elbowed him on one of his worst bruises.
Kirse flashed him an angry look. Niam looked away innocently, but he felt uncomfortable watching the man wrap Davin’s injuries as if he were some kind of pack animal.
Beside him, his friend kept a straight face, but he knew Davin was in pain. Niam winced as the physician wound the bandage so tightly over a swollen lump on Davin’s forearm that the red skin turned white around the edges of the cloth.
“I’m biding my time, Gaius. I’ve deliberately stalled things to give us the time we need to sort this out here. There’s too much going on behind the scenes that I don’t like, and once word get’s to Pallodine an official investigation will have to follow. I want this settled before I invite more enemies into my home,” Joachim explained.
“And if you’re tried for treason?” Gaius asked.
“We’ll have to get this taken care of before anyone can complain to the court,” Joachim said flatly.
“That’s one hell of a gamble,” Gaius rumbled. “And it’s all of our heads you’re laying on that block. As you go so go I.”
“Ouch!” Maerillus cried out. “That’s my bad ankle.”
Everyone stopped talking as Kirse eased up on winding a bandage around Maerillus’s old ankle injury. “Sorry,” he murmured. “Forgot.”
The men looked back at one another and continued talking. “I’m going to throw up,” Niam whined as a wave of nausea hit him. He got up to steady himself and made the kind of desperate calculations a person makes when subtracting his ability to control the reflex to lose his dinner from the distance to the nearest basin or privy.
“You really ought to ease up on them,” Gaius said as Niam tried to hold back the sickness.
Joachim raised an arched eyebrow, “An enemy won’t.”
Gaius raised his hands in surrender, and then changed topics quickly. “You’re crazy to let Kine run around town. He’s sick too. I heard him coughing again.”
Joachim nodded. “Hits him at night. Was something in that vapor Ravel set loose in the manor.”
“I thought he was immune.”
“He is. But whatever Ravel used was concentrated and natural. Jolan thinks the magic was just a carrier. He said whatever it was must be interacting with the last of the effects of the poisoned arrow. He’ll be fine. If it was going to take him down, it would have done him in by now.”
Gaius just shrugged his shoulders. “He’s working himself ragged training the boys with you and chasing ghosts at n
ight.”
“And tralls,” Joachim added.
“No luck?”
“The Lake Valleys is a big place to hide.”
Niam felt another wave of nausea coming, and this time it was a big one. “Sorry, but I need to go!”
Joachim looked at him and waved him by with a sympathetic gesture. “Don’t think this gets you out of practice tomorrow,” he said, but not unkindly.
Niam responded by placing a hand over his mouth and bolting for the door.
The Dread Lords Rising Page 73
