The hours passed, Kaide in the lead, Jerico trailing. They left the forest within the first half hour, bursting onto open plains like wanted men… which in a sense they were, though Jerico derived little pleasure from the comparison as he thought of it. Now without a path, Jerico relied on Kaide to lead the way. The hooves thundered below them, and Jerico prayed no animal holes or hidden rocks tripped either of them. As the day wore on, the plains turned to hills, and they wound through their centers. The grass, which had been thick and tall enough to scratch at the bottoms of his feet, steadily shrank. When the hills ended, Jerico saw the first of the farmland.
“There?” Jerico shouted, pointing to a distant village.
“Beyond,” Kaide shouted back.
A shift of direction, and they found themselves on a worn dirt road. Following it, they crossed between the fields, all low-cut and freshly harvested. They stopped at a stream to let their horses drink and catch their breath.
“Would that we could ride all day without stopping,” Kaide muttered.
“It has to be done,” Jerico said, knowing it would be little comfort. “How old is Beth? If she’s big enough, she might fight off a bite, unless the spider was a black fiddler.”
Kaide put his back to him, instead tending to his horse. When he said nothing, Jerico pressed on.
“Who is she, Kaide? Why do we ride?”
“Beth’s my daughter,” he said. “I’ll speak no more of it.”
Jerico opened his mouth to ask a question, thought better of it, and instead tended his own mount.
They rode in silence, the only sound that of their horses hoofbeats and heavy breathing. In the distance, Jerico caught sight of a white line of smoke just behind a cluster of hills that broke the monotony of the fields. He glanced over and saw Kaide staring at it, and he knew Stonahm was near. The road led them there, and even if it didn't seem possible, Kaide urged his mount ever faster. Bandit and paladin, they thundered into the dirt streets of the village.
“Where’s Beth?” Kaide shouted at no one in particular. Already a crowd gathered, and it was obvious to Jerico that Kaide was respected, if not revered. He bit his tongue and resolved himself to say nothing. He would not judge, only listen and learn.
“Here, Kaide!” shouted an older man, his hairline receding and his blue eyes showing hints of a murky white.
The people parted, and the two followed the old man into a thatched hut. Inside was dark, and smelled heavily of herbs and incense. Jerico fought the urge to cough.
“She’s been bitten,” said the man, gesturing to where a young woman slept on a bed, blankets pulled up to her neck. “I’m sure Ricky told you as much. I’ve drained it best I can, but it’s beyond my healing. I’m sorry, Kaide. I tried, I really did, but sometimes it seems like the gods seek a life, and nothing can stop them from taking it.”
“No god will steal her from me,” Kaide said, kneeling beside his daughter. “Beth? Beth, can you hear me?”
“Hasn’t stirred for at least an hour,” the old man said, carefully settling into a chair near the bed. “Sleeping more than me, even. Oh, hrmph, where are my manners.”
He stood and offered Jerico his hand.
“My name’s Kalgan. Pleasure to meet you…?”
“Jerico,” he said. “Of the Citadel.”
“Citadel?” Kalgan glanced back at Kaide. “Is it… did you truly find a healer for her?”
“I did,” Kaide said, standing. When he looked to Jerico, his face was a cracked mask, the emotion behind threatening to break loose at any moment. “Do your duty, paladin.”
Jerico stepped close to examine the girl. She looked twelve, maybe thirteen. Her hair was dark, the same color Kaide’s must have been before the early gray took over. She had a round face, large cheeks, and a hint of a scar underneath her chin.
“Which arm?” he asked as he pulled down the blanket.
“The left,” said Kalgan.
He needn’t have asked. The fingers of her left arm were black and blue, the veins a violent red as they snaked up to her shoulder. All across the arm were small black lesions.
“Black fiddler,” he muttered. Behind him, Kaide swore.
“I thought as much,” Kalgan said, sighing. “I feared to speak it aloud, though you may think me foolish. Didn’t want to make it true by saying it.”
Jerico chuckled at the superstition as he tried to remember details of such a bite from his time at the Citadel. His lessons on healing magic had been sparse, and mostly focused on a single detaiclass="underline" if his faith was strong, and the injured still alive, then anyone could be saved. Whether she would keep her arm, however, was another matter entirely…
“Kaide,” he said, making sure he kept his voice calm. “I may ask you for something you will immediately refuse. I ask you to think on it instead, and to trust me. Can you do this?”
“What are you talking about? Just tell me.”
“I said will you do it?” He turned, and the stern look on his face was enough to make Kaide back down.
“For her,” Kaide said. “Please, just… save my little Beth.”
Jerico closed his eyes, and as he whispered the first of many prayers, he touched Beth’s arm. To his sensitive mind, it was like touching fire. He gritted his teeth and endured. He’d healed broken bones and bleeding wounds the size of fists. He would not be defeated by the poison of a spider. Light shone from his touch, and it spread. Jerico dared look only once, but it was enough to make him shudder. The light faltered.
“What’s wrong?” Kaide asked.
“Quiet,” Jerico said through clenched teeth.
The healing magic danced through the flesh of her arm, like long trails of light in his mind’s eye. Everything he touched was burdened with death, tainted black. He tried to flood it with light, to give of his strength to power the healing. As with everything, there had to be sacrifice, and it came from him. He gasped at the effort. Broken limbs were just thin mendings of bone. Cuts were malleable skin. This, though, this was giving life to the dead.
Sweat poured down his head, and he heard ringing in his ears.
“Kaide,” he said, his voice labored. “I cannot do it. It’s been too long. Her arm’s begun to rot. She’ll live, I swear on my life she’ll live, but I must remove it.”
“Her arm,” Kaide said. “But… no, she’s just…”
Jerico glanced back to see Kalgan putting a hand on Kaide’s shoulder. The bandit leader swore again, then looked away.
“Do it,” he said. “But I will hold you to your oath.”
“Give me a knife.”
The work was fast and brutal. Jerico had no time for subtlety. The arm was like an anchor pulling her body toward death. Fever and rot, slowly crawling upward. He cut it off at the elbow, freeing her from it. Blood spilled across the bed. When the arm was removed completely, he pressed his hands against the stump and begged to Ashhur for strength. He should have cut the arm immediately, he knew, but he’d had to try to save it first. That attempt had sapped much of his energy, so that even breathing proved difficult. Now he needed just a little bit more, for some venom remained past the cut, like an embedded thorn.
“Not for me,” Jerico prayed. “Not for me. For her.”
He never heard it, never felt it, but Kaide gasped behind him, as did the old man. Jerico counted to ten, then opened his eyes. Beth still slept, but already color was returning to her body. What little red that had shown in her veins was gone. Taking the severed arm, Jerico wrapped it in a bloody blanket and handed it to Kalgan.
“Burn it,” he said. His hands shook as he held it. “Burn it, and remember why it had to be done.”
Without a word Kalgan slipped out of the room. Unsure if he could stand, Jerico shoved himself to a sit adjacent to Beth’s bed, giving Kaide room to go to her.
“Beth,” Kaide said, taking her remaining hand and kissing her forehead. “I’m here. Daddy’s here. You can sleep, but you aren’t going anywhere on me, do you hear? Daddy couldn’t… Daddy couldn’t take it. You’re all that’s left, all right, so you stay strong.”