“I have to be onstage tomorrow!”
“That’s why you have an understudy,” Brader muttered, handing the healer some silver.
The drysian nodded to them and took his leave.
“Oh, Calieus will be pleased!” Atre groaned. “He hangs over me like a carrion crow, just waiting for something like this to happen.”
Alec chuckled. “It’s his job, isn’t it?”
“Indeed. Good night, my lord.” Brader lifted Atre in his arms as if he weighed no more than a child. Alec followed them outside and watched Brader place the wounded man on some folded blankets in the back of the cart.
“Really, I think a carriage would be more comfortable,” said Alec. “I’ll happily pay.”
“No need, my lord,” Brader said gruffly. It was clear that he was angry with his friend and perhaps meant to deny him the comfort of better transport. Or that’s what Alec thought until Brader added, “With respect, we take care of our own.”
He climbed in and snapped the reins over the grey mare’s back.
That was a bit rude!Alec thought as the cart rattled away. I might as well have stayed with Seregil.
He was on his way back to the duke’s house, riding past a narrow side lane, when he noticed a hand on the ground at the mouth of it, just visible in the faint light of a nearby street lantern. Reining in, he got down and hurried over to see if someone was hurt. A young, poorly dressed man lay facedown in the dirt. Checking quickly for signs of footpads, Alec rolled him over. His eyes were open, but not fixed in death. It was another of the mysterious sleepers. The man was young, with the disreputable appearance of a footpad and the odor of a gate runner. From the looks of him, he’d been lying there for a day or more. All the same, Alec felt guilty at the thought of leaving him to die in the street like a sick dog.
With some effort, he slung the man over Windrunner’s saddle and led the horse to a nearby Dalnan temple. It was late, but temples didn’t close, at least not a Dalnan one. It would only take a moment.
A young, brown-robed girl answered the bell and helped him carry the stricken man in.
“What have you brought me, young man?” asked the old priestess in charge.
“One stricken with the sleeping death, Sister.”
“Ah, another. Bring him into the sick room.”
“Another? You’ve seen more here in the Upper City?”
“Only a few.”
There were two younger boys and a man with the flattened features and slanted eyes of the god-touched laid out on clean pallets.
Leaving the drysian and her helpers to take care of the man, Alec bent over the boys. “This one’s gone,” he said softly, resting his hand on the chest of the smaller boy.
The drysian went to the child and pressed a finger to his wrist, then nodded sadly. “Astellus carry him gently. This one lasted longer than most, from what we’ve heard. Who knows about others left to die unnoticed in some hovel or tenement?”
“How many others have you seen here, besides these?”
“Two others. I think they must have made their way up from the harbor.”
“Sister, when these stricken ones come to you, do you inspect them closely?”
“We do, my lord, looking for any kind of wound.”
“And you find nothing?”
“Nothing unusual, just the occasional bruises or cuts, but not on all.”
He thought a moment, trying to decide what Seregil would ask if he were here. “No markings?”
“What sort of markings?”
“Any kind. Guild marks, tattoos, brands.”
“No, my lord, nothing like that.”
“Are there more of these sick people at any of the other temples in the Upper City?” asked Alec, still kneeling by the dead boy.
“No, but as I said, with us being so close to the Harbor Way, it’s us who finds them. The main temple down in Grampus Street is where most of them are being taken, as there’s more found on that side of Trade Street.”
Only a few streets separated Trade from some of the lowest stews in Rhiminee. He took out his gambling winnings and gave them to her. “Thank you, Sister, and Maker’s Mercy.”
Her eyes widened at the weight of the purse. “Maker’s Mercy to you, too, kind sir.”
The whole household was awake when Brader arrived with the cart.
“What happened?” Merina demanded in alarm, following behind him as Brader carried Atre to his room.
“A foolish accident on my part,” Atre gasped. He made no objection as she helped him out of his clothes and into his ornate bed. “I found myself missing some of our former haunts-”
Merina exchanged a doubtful look with her husband. “More fool you, then. What would we do without you?”
“We’ll be doing without him for a few days, at least,” Brader told her, glowering down at Atre, then at the anxious
people hovering at the door. “Go on to bed, all of you. I’ll sit with him for a while.”
He closed the door firmly after them and pulled a chair up to the bedside. “What in the name of Soru were you thinking, going down there without me?”
“You were off with your family, weren’t you?” Atre’s tone bordered on accusing, and not for the first time. Atre had never married, never cared enough about any woman to do so, though he’d had no end of romantic conquests. If it had been up to him, Brader would have done the same. “Someone has to go. We’re running low again, you know.”
“It’s getting dangerous. You’re taking too many chances.”
“What choice do we have, my friend? Unless…”
Brader clenched his fists. “No!”
Atre gave a maddening little shrug. “Well then. Fetch me a draught, will you, please?”
Brader went to the wardrobe and took out the leather elixir box, selecting a milky phial at random.
Breaking the seal, Atre drank it down greedily, hand pressed to his bandaged belly. “Ah, that eases it a bit. Another.”
“You drank just yesterday. It’s too soon for so much.”
“Not with a wound!” the other man snapped, holding out his hand.
“You’ll still have to pretend to be hurt for a few days,” he reminded him as he went to fetch him another bottle.
“Acting is so much easier when you’re not in pain,” Atre shot back.
“Too easy, perhaps,” Brader muttered. “At least take warning from this.”
At Reltheus’s villa, Seregil and the rest of their party from the Three Dragons settled down over wine and pipes in the smaller salon.
Reltheus disappeared for a moment and came back without his coat on, he noted with interest. Seregil sat laughing over his wine with the others for some time, then announced a full bladder and walked a bit unsteadily from the room.
Reltheus’s study lay just down the corridor. The coat was
thrown carelessly over a chair and the pilfered letter was in the desk, concealed under a stack of other correspondence. Seregil hid behind the study door to read it, so as to be able to hear anyone approaching, and see who it was through the crack in the door. The letter was dated yesterday.
Your Majesty, Dearest Aunt, I made sacrifices at the Sakor Temple for your success and safety yesterday. I hope the Immortal will continue to smile upon you.
It has been raining here, so Master Seneus has held our practices in the smaller ballroom. He praises my sword work and says I’m continuing to improve. I’m sure I will learn even faster when you return as my teacher. No one is your match. I miss your guidance so much!
Seregil smiled to himself. He’d seen a great many young ladies’ letters, and it was clear that Elani was working up to something her aunt was not going to like. Seregil already suspected what that might be. He read on.
Your Lily had eight fine pups two days ago, all healthy and nursing well. She’s a wonderful mother. Duke Reltheus has already asked me to ask you if he might have one of them when they are old enough to give away. I told him you would be back by then and he could ask you himself. I hope you will. The duke has shown me such kindness and I can’t help thinking of him as a sort of uncle. He’s already planning a grand autumn hunt to welcome you home. The deer on his estate are thick this year. He was so very pleased to hear that you speak well of his son, Captain Danos.