Keeper: First Ordinance, Book 2 Page 12
When the young woman was helped from the room by her mother, I worried that I'd only see her again. I wondered that the people couldn't feel the disease of the land beneath our feet—it bled through the stone floors of the healer's quarters and disturbed me as I worked.
Ordin said I'd work for four hours, as Kondar measured time. I ended up working the full nine, with only a sandwich brought by Dena at midday.
Berel had come as promised, recording images of patients waiting outside the quarters while we worked as swiftly as we could inside it. Word came that people were either riding in from outlying villages or were carried inside wagons pulled by horses or oxen.
Even the animals appeared sickly to me when the carts were parked outside and the horses and such led away for water and what grain could be found for them.
"I can get supplies," Reah arrived with Torevik behind her to survey the increasing crowd.
"I fear we need another building, just to house those who are too ill to return to their homes," I pointed out. "If we had that, we could also dispense food and supplies there, if we had such."
"A good idea. Let me see what we can do about it."
I'd been covered in blood, filth and vomit when Reah came to visit—I'd have been ashamed if I weren't so near exhaustion by that point. I knew Ordin was in the same shape—he merely snapped at a castle servant to bring a clean smock and went back to work.
Holding my wings out to invite cooler air against my back, I accepted the smaller smock the servant offered to me and motioned for the next patient to be brought forward.
* * *
"They're fighting a losing battle—the entire population is sick—or will be soon," Reah sighed. "I know the core is tapped—I opened my shields long enough to check. Marid didn't have the finesse of a warlock when he tapped it and the breach is extensive. Energy is pouring out at an alarming rate."
"Is there any place on Siriaa where those people can be taken—so they can be treated away from Fyris? I gather that's where the poison is concentrated the most," Lissa said.
"There are only two major continents, Kondar and Yokaru, then Fyris and the polar caps. These aren't built for the harsh winters the caps will force upon them—especially with so many sick."
"How many are we talking about?" Lissa asked. "In Fyris?"
"Not that many, considering. Perhaps one hundred thousand or a little more, at most."
"While Kondar and Yokaru hold millions," Lissa shook her head.
"Cloudsong is uninhabited," Reah pointed out. "After the Belancours were arrested and removed recently."
"You may want to check it—Terrett's information revealed that Marid's containment spheres weren't working. Cloudsong may contain the poison now."
"That bastard," Reah muttered.
"I can think of worse things to call him," Lissa agreed. "When I told Trik that Marid was dead, he nodded. I think he already knew."
"It's tough when your own grandfather gives you away, isn't it?" Reah asked. "Just because Trik had a withered hand? Foolishness."
"If Marid had bothered to spend money on medical care, Trik would have been fine."
"He's better off where he is, and with the Larentii helping, he's whole, now."
"Do you want to go with me to Cloudsong? We'll see what Marid did to it."
* * *
Lironis
Quin
"Quin?" I hadn't seen Kifirin for at least two days. He stood outside my cubicle, now.
"Lord Kifirin?" I nodded respectfully to him.
"You should stop for the day and rest. Ordin is waiting for you to accompany him to the research facility. A bath, fresh clothing and a meal are waiting."
Hunching my shoulders, I lowered my chin and nodded. It would do the sick no good at all if I weren't rested enough to do what needed to be done. "Come then," Kifirin said. I followed him outside, where Ordin waited.
We didn't have to fly, Kifirin transported us.
* * *
I nearly fell asleep in the shower after leaning my head against the cool, tiled wall. Water ran over my back and wings while I wished for a bed. My stomach growled, telling me I needed food, first.
Pulling myself away from the tiles and forcing my eyes open, I finished cleaning myself and walked out of the cubicle. I'd learned the first day that the water shut off automatically when I left the shower.
Clothing, no doubt left by Dena, lay folded over the chair in front of the mirror and vanity. Drying off as quickly as I could, I slipped underwear on that I'd never seen before. Then, lifting the top garment, I examined it carefully.
The fabric was smooth and soft as a baby's skin. I found it to be very like the tunic I'd seen Queen Lissa wear, only in a much more suitable garment for where I was. Slipping the neck hole over my head, I tied the back, noticing that the tunic hung halfway to my knees.
The trousers matched and flowed softly about my ankles when I walked. Had I not been so weary, I'd have taken a great deal of pleasure from wearing such fine garments.
My hair came next—I finger-combed it in the mirror until it looked somewhat neat in appearance, then walked out of the bathroom toward the kitchen and dining room.
"Quin, you look lovely," Kaldill smiled and indicated the chair beside him.
"Did you bring this for me?" I asked, touching the fabric of my tunic.
"I asked, yes, but Queen Lissa offered her designer. The results are quite breathtaking," the skin around his eyes crinkled as he smiled wider.
"Then I thank you. It was a wonderful gift after a long and trying day. I was obliged to dispose of my work clothing—I had no hope of washing stains and such out of it after healing so many."
"That is of no consequence—I will ask for a healer's wardrobe for you," Kaldill waved a hand imperiously.
"You've been King for quite a long time, haven't you?" I asked, as a plate of food was set before me.
Kaldill threw back his head and laughed.
* * *
The meeting after dinner should have put me to sleep. It didn't. Reah, after being gone for a few hours during the afternoon, was back, with word from Queen Lissa. "We'd hoped to transport those from Fyris to Cloudsong, only to learn that Marid managed to poison it while he was there. We're looking for another suitable world, but nothing has presented itself."
"You're looking to take the people away from Fyris?" Omina almost came out of her seat, her anger evident. Rath, sitting beside her, was just as angry but didn't say anything. "Amlis will be furious," Omina insisted.
"My lady, your people are dying. This is merely a temporary shift, to keep them from getting sicker than they already are. If the poison is cleared away from Fyris, they may return."
"That's why we were looking for a deserted world—where the Prince can rule without hindrance from other inhabitants," Reah attempted to soothe Omina's anger and distrust. "Our other option—and the most expedient—is Harifa Edus, the werewolf planet. Only a quarter of it is occupied, leaving much open ground for your people to live. Once the cities and villages are built with help from the powerful, the people of Fyris would be free to ply their trades and sow gardens and such—spring has arrived on that sector of the planet."
"Werewolves? I've never heard of such," Omina huffed.
I wanted to speak, then, but held my tongue. As long as Omina left them alone, the werewolves would not be a bother. I had the idea that she'd have to travel many, many miles and many days to reach even the closest werewolf, if Reah had her way.
"They've never heard of you, either," Kifirin snorted. I stared—smoke had come from his nostrils. To me, that indicated he was upset in some way. "Reah offers you a gift beyond price and it makes you angry? It will cheat your people if you and your son refuse it."
Lord Kifirin, they have little care for the people, except that it affects them in some way, I sent mindspeech to him.
I know this, he responded gently. The measure of any monarch is in how he treats the lowliest of his subjects.
<
br /> I felt Omina's character was being weighed in the balance and wondered upon which side she'd fall. Tensions rose in Amlis's study—I regretted that he and Rodrik weren't present for this meeting.
"Very well," Omina flung up a hand in surrender. "Take the people. I shall stay here."
"It will kill you, just as it will kill them," Reah said softly.
"I am aging and have seen too much already," Omina huffed. "Amlis is the ruler of Fyris, as it should be. I will return to Vhrist and die with it, unless a remedy is found in time."
* * *
Quin
"Quin, we will discuss these decisions soon—you and Ordin need rest, first," Gurnil advised when the meeting was over. I imagined that he wanted Justis present, too, and that wouldn't be possible for two more days.
I wondered, too, how the people as a whole would be transported—would their animals and such travel with them? The whole thing made me more than curious, and I wished to speak with Reah and Kifirin about it when I had an opportunity to do so.
* * *
Avii Castle
Jurris had already passed sentence on Yevil—the gate waited. He was spending his last few hours in a cell beneath the castle, until the midnight hour came. He'd be shoved through, then.
Justis stayed behind with Jurris, after the Council was dismissed. Justis carried Gurnil and Ordin's votes with him when he and the others bore Yevil to the King—both had voted for the gate.
"You wished to speak with me alone?" Justis asked after the last servant left Jurris' quarters.
"Yes." Jurris dropped onto the chair behind his desk and allowed his wings to droop. "Tell me, brother—will I become that?"
Justis understood Jurris meant Yevil, who'd shouted obscenities at all the Avii while Jurris held his trial and announced the charges brought forth by Justis. He'd ended by calling them filthy, dead birds, nesting on a useless piece of glass. Jurris had ordered the criminal gagged after that, and only allowed him to speak before sentencing.
Those words hadn't been kind, either. Justis doubted if Yevil realized just how short his time had become. Regardless, he'd been gagged again and taken to the dungeons, where—no doubt—the now ungagged Yevil was likely shouting at the guards there.
"My King, if you had shown any evidence of becoming what that aberration is, I would have told you already," Justis muttered.
"You say Tamblin is in custody? He still lives?"
"Yes, although I doubt it will be for long. Had I not seen the device pulled from his neck myself, I'd have doubted such a thing existed. Nevertheless, several at the meeting recognized it. I cannot say whether Yevil dictated Tandelis' death, as well as Elabeth and Camryn's, through that infernal creation, or whether Tamblin went along with the plan willingly."
"Camryn always said there was friction between the brothers; Tandelis held much back from Tamblin as a result."
"I worried when Tandelis' wife died in childbirth, and the child with her," Justis rustled his feathers. "Tamblin already had an heir—Timblor was three years old when that happened. Tandelis believed he had enough time to find another wife and get an heir, but that's exactly what he didn't have."
"Did you get information from either as to the exact events that day?"
"Only that Yevil employed one of those weapons to kill Elabeth, Camryn and their guards first, then turned it on Tandelis, who sent guards to attack Yevil. Tandelis and his guards died, too."
"What about Lirin—their daughter?"
"Yevil claims he killed her. We know a body was delivered here, but it was damaged too badly to identify."
"What was done with the remains?"
"They lie in a glass casket inside the main vault. You were overcome with grief and melancholy at the time, so I didn't tell you what was done with them. Why do you ask?"
"I wish to see them now."
"Very well. Shall we go there, before making our way to the dungeons?"
"It would please me greatly."
* * *
Yevil had barely drawn breath between shouting at the guards; Justis ordered him gagged again when he was dragged from his cell. He and Jurris, followed by a dozen Black Wing guards, would usher Yevil to the gate.
Ardis walked steadily behind Justis—Justis couldn't help thinking that this trip could have been the former Captain's, had Quin not asked for his life.
Instead, it gave him grim satisfaction to be executing the one who'd killed Elabeth with joy in his heart at the deed.
What poison had Treven whispered into his half-blood son's ear before he was also forced through the gate? Justis shook his wings, angered by the thought. At least Treven stayed out of his path in the past—he'd been afraid of the black-winged Commander of the Queen's Guard—with good reason. If Treven had threatened Elabeth in Justis' presence, he would have died—with Camryn's blessing.
Instead, he'd stolen weapons from Camryn's treasury and instructed his half-blood child to do harm, instead.
"I watched your father pass through the gate," Justis leaned forward and whispered in Yevil's ear. "It will please me greatly to watch you pass through as well."
Justis stood beside Jurris, Black Wing next to Red, as Ardis and two others lifted one-legged Yevil and tossed him through the stone cavern.
It looked shallow, that cavern, but that was deceptive. Once anyone entered, they disappeared.
* * *
Tiralia
Yevil cursed when he landed, then looked about him. The ruins of a city lay in the distance. Around him, too, he could see bones—stripped clean of everything except feathers. The last pile was red—his father lay there.
What had killed him and the others? Yevil cared not. The broken city lay in the distance and he was determined to go there.
"You won't get far."
Yevil blinked. Tall, the creature was—more than three times the height of a tall man. Black scales gleamed in weak sunlight, and the tips of curved horns on the creature's head glinted brightly.
"Did you eat him?" Yevil nodded to the pile of bones and red feathers that had once been Treven of the Avii.
"I have no appetite for evil, with or without wings," the creature replied. Smoke poured ominously from his nostrils and massive, muscled arms crossed over the huge chest. "The very air here is poison," the creature added. "Already it is eating your lungs as you breathe. A fitting end for a poisoner of an entire planet, I think, to be poisoned himself."
"Take me away from here," Yevil begged. "I will repay you."
"Your death will be payment enough." The creature disappeared.
"Wait, come back," Yevil shouted, then coughed. Blood poured from his mouth; he stared at the strangeness of it before falling.
His last thoughts were for himself.
* * *
Lironis
Quin
"Quin, I have a suite in the research facility, which has an extra bedroom. Do you wish to spend the night there?" Kaldill asked. "You may return to your room in the castle when Commander Justis arrives. Berel's suite is across the hall," he coaxed.
"If that is your wish," I agreed. I was exhausted and he knew it. "I'll get something to sleep in, first."
"No, your closet has been suitably stocked," Kaldill smiled. "You'll find something there, I think."
"All right." Without further discussion, I allowed Kaldill to transport me to his suite. He escorted me to the second bedroom doorway, kissed my forehead lightly, pushed me gently inside and shut the door between us.
I slept better that night than I had in a long while.
* * *
Another of Reah's mates appeared at breakfast the following morning. I was forced to clench my teeth to keep my mouth from dropping open.
He was Larentii.
He was also Chief Archivist for his race.
I found myself staring at the ultimate librarian, who stored much of the information kept in the Larentii Archives in his head. Bright-blue eyes turned to regard me before they lit even brighter with his
smile.
"You are welcome at the Archives anytime," Nefrigar chuckled. The universe should stop in wonder, I decided, whenever a Larentii laughs. "Ask Daragar to bring you whenever you wish," he added.
"When there is time enough to enjoy it," I replied as solemnly as I could. After all, I had healing to do the moment I finished breakfast, and hadn't touched the old physician's journal yet, to write the report Gurnil requested.
"Nefrigar wishes to study your wings," Reah said. I blinked at her, confusion tinged with worry clouding my mind.
"I only wish to touch briefly, to memorize the colors and texture so a report may be written for the Archives. I have never seen such, and there are no records in the Archives of any like them."
"That's fine," I agreed. I'd worried that he wanted a sample, and I'd experienced having feathers plucked already.
"Young one," Nefrigar knelt beside me, "No Larentii will ever bring you harm. Will you stretch out your wings for me, so I may measure them?"
"We should go to the balcony," I said. I didn't realize that everyone else waiting for breakfast would come with us, Ordin and Gurnil included. There, in the early morning sun, I stretched my wings as far as I could for the Chief Archivist of the Larentii.
Somehow, he could measure without using a tape or a stick. Daragar appeared, nodded to Nefrigar and smiled as the Archivist touched my feathers carefully.
"The sun makes a lovely color when it shines through the bands," Nefrigar informed me. I'd never thought to look, to be honest.
"She doesn't stand for long before the mirror," Daragar said softly.
"You may fold your wings, now," Nefrigar said. "I have what I need. Come see me at the Archives, young one." With that, he disappeared.
"I received a message from Father this morning," Berel said as plates of food were passed around the table moments later. "I recorded audio from the meeting last night, so he discussed it with Melis and a few others."
"What did he say?"
"I'll tell you later," Berel promised.
* * *
Later came during a hasty midday meal—a sandwich again, while I sat atop a castle turret to get away from the sick ones clamoring to see me. I'd desperately needed the respite—healing was exhausting work.