“Hush now, all will be well.” I assured her. “A good broth, a strong dose of fever’s foe and you will be—”
“Fool girl,” she snapped. “Trained of Eln? Have you not heard what I said? Tried them all, there’s no remedy, no cure, they just fall over. There’s only cold, cold death.” She cried out, sobbing as through her heart would break. “I failed them all. My babies…” Her fingers pulled weakly at the blankets.
“Fever’s foe—”
“Tried it.”
“Dittany.”
“Tried that.”
“Watermint.”
“Tried that, too.” Anger flashed over her face, but she was too weak to hold the glare. “Fool girl, tried them all, but there’s no remedy, no cure. There’s only cold and the grave.” She put a hand to her forehead. “It’s come for me, death has, and it’s welcome. All my babes, and their babes…” She started to wail, sobbing out her despair.
Isdra was trying to feed the babe, and comfort it at the same time. Epor stuck his head in. “What’s amiss?”
“The woman woke, and her cries have frightened the babe. She thinks you are going to eat her.”
Rahel stopped crying and stared at Epor, wide-eyed.
Epor smiled at her, showing his teeth. “I wouldn’t. Too scrawny.”
I smiled at the jest, and Rahel demanded to know what he said. She looked at me with suspicion, but seemed to relax a little, especially when Epor leaned against the doorpost, watching Isdra make a bed by the fire for herself, with the babe nestled down beside her. In the quiet, Rahel closed her eyes, and whispered something. I leaned closer. “What did you say?”
She opened her eyes. “Bind me.”
“I don’t think—”
“Bind me, girl.”
“Rahel, you’re no threat.”
“The fever has me. Bind me now.”
“What does she say?” Epor asked.
I explained and he nodded. “Even a weakling with a knife is dangerous. Take no chance, Warprize.”
Rahel seemed to sense his attitude. “He knows. Healers know the way of pain. Those that heal can hurt in need. Tie me, I say.”
I rolled my eyes, and in the end I secured her wrists to the frame, but only after I had her drink some broth. She lapsed into an uneasy sleep. Epor went outside to stand watch, Isdra rolled into her blankets and I settled in for a long night.
By dawn, Rahel could not be roused. She lay silent, still, and unresponsive.
I was exhausted, and filled with chagrin at my folly. I should have listened to her, forced her to tell me everything while she was conscious and talking. I should have heeded her warnings, but I had not believed that a disease could kill so very swiftly.
I knelt by Epor, sleeping in the blankets that Isdra had vacated. They’d traded off during the night. A touch of my hand on his shoulder, and his eyes were open. He sat up when he got a good look at my face. “Warprize?”
“We need to go to the healer’s home, Epor. I need to see what she was trying to do before you brought her here.”
Epor glanced at the beds. “The man?”
“Dead.” I refused to look at the body. I’d covered his face, and my failure, with a blanket.
Epor stood, gathering his weapons. His eyes flicked to the corner where the babe rested. “She’s well, at least?” he asked gruffly.
“So far.”
Epor led the way, and I followed him out into the main room. Isdra was just inside the door, seated on one of the benches, positioned so that she could see out into the square. She made no comment as we approached, just lifted an eyebrow.
“A scouting run.” Epor spoke softly, tightening his mask. “Anything?”
“All’s quiet.” Isdra stood. “The others?”
“The babe is well. The woman still lives. The man is dead.” I didn’t really want to discuss the details. Thankfully, Isdra was content with my response.
“We’ll finish the search when we return.” Epor looked out over the square, and the light that was growing steadily. “No sign of the crazed one?”
“None.”
“Heat some kavage for us, eh? We won’t be long.”
Isdra gave him a smile, and a nod. “I’ll see to the babe.”
Epor stepped to the doors, and I moved to stand next to him. The light was growing brighter, but the walls and the house made deep shadows around the edge. Epor put his hand on my shoulder. “You will stay with me, and do as I say. If I say run, you will come back here, yes?”
“I will.”
He moved then, at a fairly rapid pace, around the square, staying in the shadows as much as he could. He’d stop every few paces, listening. I’d stop too, but my heart was beating so fast that I would not have heard an army approaching. It was scaring me, that he thought this was necessary.
The healer’s clinic was off the square, in a small alleyway. Epor went in first, urging me to stay pressed against the wall next to the door. It was a small area, just the two rooms and a loft above, much like the house we’d gone in the day before. Epor returned quickly, and gestured me into the back room. “This is it, Warprize. The room above has only beds with the dead in them.”
It was her stillroom, filled with familiar scents and the cloying odor of death. The room was in disarray, as if it had been used in haste. There were pots of fever’s foe over by the fire, still in the cauldrons. I found half-ground dittany and watermint on the tables. She’d tried them, as she had said.
Epor stood at the door, shifting his gaze from me to the other room and the outer door. He was making no secret of his impatience, but I wasn’t to be rushed.
The old schools of healing taught that you kept your best recipes and discoveries to yourself, calling them the secrets of the trade. Eln took a different approach, teaching that all knowledge must be shared to make us all better healers. If Rahel was of the old school, she’d have hidden her notes and recipes somewhere. I only hoped that Rahel had not guarded her secrets too well.
It took a bit of poking around, but I found rolls of notes in a canister on a high shelf. I put that in my satchel, along with the notes. With any luck, she’d taken some notes about the process of this plague.
Epor coughed. “Warprize…”
“One last thing,” I moved to his side. “I want to see the bodies upstairs.”
“Quickly.”
I moved up the stairs as quickly as I could. It was warmer here and the smell was that much stronger. I was grateful for the ginger cloth over my nose and throat, but even that couldn’t cover the smell. I stepped to the nearest bed and pulled back the blanket. There were no visible wounds on the body. He lay on his back, as if asleep. The cups and jars on the table between the bed held fever’s foe and dittany. I looked at the other man, and had to pause, thinking for some reason that I had seen him before. I studied the face, but death had left his mark and I wasn’t sure if—
“Warprize.”
I replaced the blankets and moved to leave when a pile of clothing caught my attention. Quickly I held up the top garment, then shuffled through the rest of the pile. These were priestly garments, worn by the priests of the Sun God. What were they doing here?
“Warprize.”
This time, Epor was at the bottom of the stairs, and not to be denied. I turned to go and took a step, when a noise came from behind me.
From under one of the beds.
I froze, holding my breath. At the bottom of the steps, Epor frowned at me. “Lara, we need to—”
“I think—” I turned to look, but I was too slow. The man sprang from under the bed, barreled into me, throwing me to the side. As I fell to the floor, he leaped down on Epor with a snarl.