Healers (29 page)

David glanced around the room, then looked at the king again.
Now
David realized the king was staring in horror at his own genitals. David let go of the girl he’d been struggling with and she instantly straightened her clothing.

The crotch of the king’s pants were soaked with blood.

From the inside!

What could
have done
that?!

Daussie sagged against the wall of the palace, rubbing her temples. The king had been nearly forty feet away. Removing the wall and overlying skin from a vein on his penis had required intense concentration for over a minute, even though the bit of flesh she’d removed had been small and she’d only transported it a millimeter.

The king’s rape of the two girls had certainly been put on hold for now. The two girls were taken back out of the room and it seemed they were being marched back to the same group of rooms where Eva was locked up. As Daussie practically staggered to the other side of the street, she considered the fact that the small wound she’d given the king would certainly heal.

Then, that horrible man would begin doing unspeakable things again.

He was about to commit a capital crime! But because he’s King, he’d
never
stand trial for it!
Like Tarc, Daussie only wanted to use her gift for good. Like Tarc, she’d decided she would never use her gift to kill again. But, if somehow the king
were
brought to trial, Daussie hoped he’d get the death penalty.

If I think that’s the penalty he deserves, shouldn’t I be willing to carry out the sentence?

Can I be judge, jury
and
executioner?

Her head hurt and she didn’t know if it was from the exercise of her talent or her horror at the girls’ situation.

She went to find Tarc. She hoped talking it over with him might help her with this firestorm of emotion. After all, he’d also resolved not to kill again with his talent and then later decided he had to go back on his resolution.

She could ask him to get Eva’s opinion as well.

She wished she’d taken that bit of flesh out of the king’s aorta instead of his genitals.

Henry Roper felt like he was about to lose control of his bowels. He glanced at his wife Haley; she looked just as pale as he thought he must be.

A squad of the guardia had shown up at the Norton’s caravan demanding the Hyllises. Evidently, the Hyllises had been aware the guardia might arrest them, since they had snuck away in the middle of the night. Astonishingly, no one had seen them go. The night had been unusually dark and many of the caravaners had been listening to music far from the Hyllises’ wagon.

Henry hadn’t been worried. He had assumed the guardia would send troops down each of the three roads leaving the merchants’ plain. Though Henry hoped the Hyllises would somehow escape, surely the guardia would expect to catch up to the wagon in short order.

Henry hadn’t considered the guardia squad’s problem however. Sergeant Ellis, in charge of the squad sent to arrest the Hyllises, felt like he had a stone in his stomach. If he returned without the people the king
himself
had sent Ellis to arrest, the King would be furious. And the king was notorious for lashing out at the bearers of bad news.

Sergeant Ellis sent a runner to his captain, asking for mounted troops to send down each of the three roads after the wagon. However, he knew he’d have to return to town soon, and
someone
would have to tell the king the Hyllises had escaped. There was
no
chance the captain would tell the king himself!

No, the captain would cover his own ass by requiring Sergeant Ellis to bear the bad news to the king. Therefore, Ellis needed someone else to bear the brunt of the king’s wrath. After dithering for a while, he realized with some relief that one of the caravaners might do. The sergeant found the owners of the wagon next to the Hyllises and arrested
them
. Hopefully he could get the king to focus on this Roper guy. Maybe the king would torture Roper for answers about where the Hyllises had gone.

***

King Philip looked up at the guard sergeant who’d finally returned after being sent for the healer’s family. Resisting an almost constant impulse to reach down and rub his injured member through its bandage, he said, “This’s her family? I thought she had children?” The king desperately wanted to get the healer in control so he could ask her to treat his own bizarre injury. He couldn’t possibly expose that part of his own anatomy to her until he could be completely assured of her benign intentions.

The guard sergeant nervously said, “No, Sir King. Her family seems to have fled and they took her wagon with them! None of the caravaners will admit to knowing where they went, but I’ve brought you these two. They’re the owners of the wagon right behind hers in their caravan. I thought you might want to question them.”

The king shifted uncomfortably in his seat. This reminded him of his condition by inciting a burning sensation in his crotch. Disgustedly, Philip thought,
I suppose I have to do the thinking.
“Did you send riders down the main roads to look for them?”

“Yes, Sir King.”

Well,
the king thought
, that’s a pleasant surprise.
“And you questioned many of the caravaners, comparing their answers?”

“Yes, Sir King. Several said these people,” he indicated the two caravaners, “were friends of hers.”

The king turned to another guard, “Bring the healer woman and the two prisoners she worked on the other day.” He sat back to wait. Irritated, he beckoned a slave girl who held a tray of tidbits. She looked frightened. That reminded him of the girl he’d been about to use when he’d sustained his injury
. Could the
girl
have injured me somehow? I’d swear she didn’t touch me, but perhaps I should have her killed. If she did injure me, killing her should discourage any others who might think to do the same thing.

He selected his tidbit and settled back to wait and think.

They brought in the prisoners first and a moment later the healer woman entered. Seeing the two caravaners, the healer immediately rushed to them, hugging them and asking if they were okay. The two caravaners were white as salt, so it was fairly obvious they were scared shitless
. Good,
he thought,
even without her family, it looks like these two “friends” will give me a grip on her.
“So, let’s see how your healing efforts turned out on these two,” King Philip said, indicating the two prisoners. “Guards, bring them closer.”

Little had changed since he’d inspected the prisoners earlier in the day, but the king made a show of inspecting them anyway. After doing so, he said, “Well, it would appear you may actually
be
a healer, as opposed to the charlatans we’ve had through Realth in the past. We’re impressed.” He rubbed his chin for a minute, then said, “That being the case, we’d like to offer you the position of court healer.” He looked at the healer woman, hoping she’d look grateful.

“I travel with the caravan Sir King, I’m afraid I can’t stay here to take a position like that.”

The healer woman spoke plainly and without apparent fear. Most people who attempted to deny him were shaking in their boots. King Philip gave a little grin and said, “But you haven’t heard about the pay.” He named a monthly wage higher than most people made in half a year.

She shook her head, “That’s a generous offer Sir King, but I must move on with my caravan.”

He frowned, “Maybe you can’t. Since you got in trouble with the law here in Realth, your family has apparently abandoned you. They and your wagon are gone.”

To his irritation, she didn’t look in the least surprised
.
“Still, Sir King, I’ll stay with the caravan. Hopefully my family had a good reason to depart and will return to the caravan to look for me at some time in the future.”

How in all the hells did she know they’d gone?! Someone in the palace must have told her!
He wondered how he would discover the traitor. He stared at her a moment, then said “I’m not so sure. It appears they’ve abandoned you. At least, they left no messages about why they were going, where they were going, or when they might return.”

She returned his gaze, unfazed, “Then the business they left on must’ve been urgent indeed.”

It’s like she’s
telling
me they knew I was going to have them arrested!
He glanced around his courtroom,
Who could have told them?!
And
told her?!
He realized he might be able to figure it out by determining who had been in contact with her and could also have had contact with the caravan. He leaned back in his seat, “Well, I’ve offered an apple. Now I’m afraid I must show you the whip.” The woman’s clear gray eyes remained on him. She didn’t look either intimidated or surprised! He continued, “You
will
work for us. You
don’t
have a choice.” He motioned to the guard standing behind the prisoners. The guard already had his sword out. In an instant, he’d run through the prisoner whose leg the healer had sutured.
That
surprised her,
the king thought with satisfaction.

The healer woman’s eyes flew wide and she turned to the prisoner, reaching out; then letting her hands drop as she realized she had no chance to save a man with a sword through his heart. As the man spasmed, then slumped to the floor, she turned rigidly back to the king, a tear running down her cheek and an icy hatred in her eyes.

“Now, you
may
be thinking you don’t like me. You might even be thinking that, as my healer, you could easily poison me.” He leaned forward and fixed her with his gaze, “Know this then, woman. If
I
die,
you
die. If I even get sick, your friends here from the caravan,” he nodded at the two people the sergeant had brought back from the caravan, “
they
each lose a finger.
And
, I’ll kill another prisoner in front of you,” he glanced over at the man who’d had the abscess drained, “starting with your buddy there.”

The abscess man flinched, looking terrified.

Still filled with hate, the healer woman’s eyes had taken on a resigned look.

The king thought the two caravaners were about to crap. He wondered if it would be safe to have the healer woman give him an opinion on why he’d started bleeding.
Probably as safe now as it’ll ever be,
he thought. “Now, I have a condition myself. I’d like your opinion so the guards are going to clear the court of everyone except…”

She interrupted him. “Your genitals began bleeding,” she said matter-of-factly.

His eyebrows shot up. Wanting to tell her to shut up until the room was cleared he said, “They did
not
! I…”

She interrupted again, “They did. I’m a healer. It’s my business to know these kinds of things.”

Somehow she’d begun dominating the conversation! He’d wanted the court cleared before he talked about his own genitals, but was a little late to try to keep it a secret now. He began, “What could cause…?”

“Abominations. I suspect you were about to commit a crime generally punished by the
death
sentence. Is that right?”

Philip swallowed
, how the hell does she know?!
Out of the corner of his eye he could see some of his people glancing back and forth amongst one another.
Shit!
“What I was doing at the time has nothing to do with…”

The bitch interrupted him again, “If you were about to rape someone, that has everything to do with what’s wrong with you! If you keep doing things like
that
, the disease in your genitals will just get worse.”

The king swallowed. He wanted to tell her he’d been using the enslaved girls for
years
without a problem, but that wouldn’t be a good public admission. And he sure as
hell
didn’t want people thinking his genitals were
diseased
! “They’re not
diseased
! I had an injury!”

“Really?! Who injured you? I’m betting no one even touched you!”

In a fury, King Philip pointed a shaking finger at the healer woman and roared, “
You
, will
shut
up!” He could feel his heart pounding and knew his face had turned red. Getting a grip on himself, he continued in a steely tone, “We may want a healer, but we don’t want one bad enough to put up with an insolent
bitch
like you.”

The woman actually drew in a breath for another one of her insolent retorts, but apparently she then recognized just how close to the edge Philip was. She swallowed whatever she had been about to say and stood silently, her lips pressed together in a disapproving line. Anger still flared in her eyes.

Philip turned to his chief guard, “Put her in leg irons and short chain her to a bolt in her room. Her friends here,” Philip waved at the two caravaners, “can feed her and carry her chamber pot. We’ll see if she’s still this uppity after a few days of chafing at her ankles.”

As they led the woman from his chamber, his thoughts wandered once again,
How
did
I get injured down there? Could it really be some kind of disease?

***

Tarc stood, leaning against the palace wall underneath one of the little guard cupolas as if resting. He had his eyes shut as his ghost explored Eva’s new situation. The guards had put her in a new room with a much heavier door. It had a large eyebolt sunk into the floor. A blacksmith had come in and riveted shackles around Eva’s ankles that afternoon. A heavy chain went from one ankle to the other. The chain wasn’t very long and it had been attached to the bolt in the floor with an enormous padlock. Both the door and the padlock had been locked with large keys. Tarc’s ghost had followed the guard with the keys when he left, hoping the keys would be kept in a readily available location. Unfortunately the guard had hung the keys on the wall in a large guard room which always seemed to have 10 to 20 guards milling around in it.

Tarc stepped away from the wall and wandered off down the street. Daussie would keep an eye on Eva from a block away. Tarc walked, hoping something would inspire him with a solution to this new problem.

After buying rope and cord that morning, he’d been fairly confident he’d be able to get over the wall and into the palace grounds. Once inside, he’d hoped to be able to use his ghost to avoid the guards. He’d bought material for gags and extra cordage. If he had to, he could render a few guards unconscious, then bind them. Now if only he could unlock his mother’s room and chains, it would just be a matter of retracing his steps to the wall and helping his mother climb down the rope to get out.

He really didn’t want to kill any of the guards. He’d been giving a lot of thought to the ethics of killing with his talent. He’d accepted that some people did things that rendered their lives forfeit. Not that he
wanted
to be their executioner, but he’d decided that he shouldn’t feel guilty when he killed people who would have been given the death sentence by a judge and jury.