Keeper: First Ordinance, Book 2 Page 13

The sick had learned there was no medicine to take, no stitches in torn skin and no pain if someone were fortunate enough to be brought to my cubicle.

  Berel was forced to climb many steps to get to the window beside my perch. "I'm sorry I made you come so far," I apologized. "I worried that there would be a riot in the courtyard if I attempted to walk away. I flew, instead."

  "There must be more than five hundred people down there," Berel agreed, leaning his elbows on the windowsill. "I asked some of mine to walk through and distribute small packages of food and water while they're waiting, and Master Gurnil asked for benches to be brought so they wouldn't have to stand so long."

  "I know. You have kindness in your heart, Berel Charkisul. I hope it always remains so."

  "I know what it's like to be sick," he said with a shrug. "If I could, I'd be down there, helping you heal them. Such is not my gift."

  "What did your father say about the meeting last night?"

  "He says that if you leave Siriaa, I am to go with you."

  "Berel, I don't know whether I'll go or not," I stuttered, shocked by his words. "I mean the Avii will still be here, your father will still be here, the people of Kondar and Yokaru will still be here and the poison will still be here. It is a wondrous gift Reah and Queen Lissa are offering, to take the people of Fyris away to a safer place, but there is so much work to be done here, still."

  "I understand that, but my father's scientists have discovered what you already know—that the core is somehow leaking and its energy is feeding the poison. While these findings are preliminary, they worry that Siriaa will die faster because of it. Carrying two hundred thousand people away will be nothing compared to the millions left behind in hopeless circumstances. Already, stored food prices are up, merely based on rumors."

  "Tapping the core. Now I understand what he did," I muttered.

  "Who?"

  "The wizard who killed himself. He was sick and his power was failing, so he tapped the energy of the planet's core to provide power for what he wished to accomplish. In the end, because he faced Reah and Daragar in your father's palace, he could not do what he intended."

  "What did he intend?" Berel's voice was sharp and fearful.

  "He intended to kill your father and bend Kondar to his will. President Pragg would have died, too, had he known it. Marid of Belancour wanted the whole planet to rule, so he could sell the poison to criminals everywhere. What he didn't realize is that there is no known cure for the poison, once it escapes. I know not how Queen Elabeth kept it from spreading, but she did. That secret died with her, and I have no idea if there is written information anywhere as to how she accomplished that feat."

  "So many other worlds are now contaminated with this poison," Berel shook his head. "I don't understand the depth of malice required to do such a thing."

  "I believe it came down to jealousy and greed," I shrugged. "I've seen that all my life. I have to go back, now." I stuffed the last bit of sandwich into my mouth and chewed before taking flight to the courtyard below.

  Chapter 9

  Lironis

  "She needs a day off, but that could cause a riot. You should see the looks the rest of us get when patients are brought to us instead of Quin." Ordin rustled his wings in frustration as he stalked past Gurnil—he'd arrived in the suite where their bedrooms were now located, to have a shower and change clothes before going to dinner.

  "They should understand that Quin will see the worst off," Gurnil began.

  "We've told them that, many times. Still they complain. Is Justis back, yet?"

  "He's expected at any time."

  "If Jurris keeps him longer than necessary," Ordin huffed. "We need him and his guards to help with the crowds. We have to inform him of the planned move; Reah tells me that she and several Larentii have volunteered to construct schools and other necessary buildings in the section of Harifa Edus they've carved out for the Fyrians. I still don't know what the reaction will be, however, when they're dumped in a strange place with no prior knowledge."

  "Take your bath," Gurnil sighed. "We'll discuss this over dinner. Perhaps Justis will arrive in time to join us."

  * * *

  Quin

  I wobbled into the shower, exhausted. This was my routine, now—work until I was exhausted every day, with barely a few moments to eat a meager midday meal. At least Kaldill's quarters had the shower I'd come to love so much, to wash away the sweat and grime.

  My clothing went into a special hamper Kaldill supplied—it had a tightly-closing lid so the smell wouldn't permeate my bathroom until someone could collect it to wash.

  A bench had been brought and placed inside the shower; Kaldill had known, somehow, that it provided welcome relief for one who'd stood most of the day to heal the sick.

  I wished, too, for a way to give Ordin and the others time off—all were showing signs of wear as they treated an endless line of patients.

  Forcing myself to dry off after my shower, I dressed in the first thing I could find in the closet and walked toward the door. Yes, I should have been looking forward instead of down—I stumbled through the door and walked straight into someone.

  I shrieked—it startled me so badly.

  "Here, now." Hands—and a voice—soothed.

  Justis was back. I looked up into his face and burst into tears. I may have wrapped my arms tightly about his waist, too—I don't remember.

  * * *

  "Set the trays here," Kaldill instructed softly. I heard his voice—he'd come to our suite shortly after Justis carried me inside, still sniffling like a child. Daragar followed on Kaldill's heels.

  Pulling my face away from Justis' black shirt, which was now soaked with my tears, I saw that Kaldill had asked for our dinners to be delivered to the suite. I wanted to hug him for thinking of it—there wasn't any way I wanted to show tearstains to anyone else.

  "Overworked," Kaldill said softly, offering a glass of milk to me with a gentle smile.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen," I mumbled, accepting the milk. I realized I sat on Justis' lap and felt embarrassed because of it.

  "No need," Justis wrapped fingers around my hand that held the glass. "Drink this—you're probably half-starved, on top of everything else."

  I was, but I didn't want to admit it to the Commander of the King's Guard, who'd just flown for hours to return to Lironis. If anybody needed something to eat or drink, he did.

  "We have food and drink for all of us, except Daragar, who's already soaked up enough sunlight to do him for a while," Kaldill laughed gently. "Come, we have enough seats. We'll sit and eat and talk, if you want to talk."

  That's how the four of us came to have our dinner in Kaldill's suite that night, while Justis described Yevil's trip through the gate and his screams and cursing beforehand. He also described Jurris' apparent depression and worry that he could become what Yevil and Treven were—careless murderers whose only concerns were for themselves.

  "Should we send Ordin back to Avii Castle?" Kaldill asked. He recognized Justis' worry for his brother.

  "I want to, but Quin is already overworked as it is. If we take even one healer away, it will place a heavier burden on those left behind."

  "If it will help Jurris, then I won't mind," I said. "I doubt he could ever become what Yevil and his father were, but he needs reassurance, just the same. If Ordin can provide that, then he should go."

  "Quin, I don't want to see more of your tears," Kaldill offered gently.

  "I know, but everything is in such a delicate balance on Siriaa," I said. "Yes, we need to get the people of Fyris away, or they'll die quickly. The poison is getting worse—much worse. I can feel it. If one monarch or president or trusted leader falls, the balance will collapse and Siriaa will die an even quicker death."

  "You see the civil wars and riots that will come, because the poison will consume everything and leave the people without food or clean water, don't you?" Daragar interjected. Until that moment, he'd been con
tent to listen while the rest of us talked.

  "Yes. I wish I had access to your Larentii Archives and time enough to read and study the problem; I feel it has happened many times before. A part of me wants to move all the people away, but this is their home. Another part of me realizes that Marid, before he died, managed to infect many other worlds with the same malady. Should we move to another world, only to find the same difficulties facing us there? We need a cure for it," I allowed my wings to droop. If the powerful couldn't find a remedy for the poison, then all could be lost.

  * * *

  "If Amlis were here, he'd say no," Rath pointed out.

  "My son will say yes," Omina countered. "He will see the reason behind it—Tamblin will not be taken to safety with the others and he will die eventually, because the poison will ensure it. I have no desire to live my last days in Fyris, worried that a madman is on the loose. He should be executed publicly for his crimes, before the people leave this world behind."

  "I'll wait to speak with Amlis."

  "You do that," Omina flipped her skirts and stalked away.

  * * *

  Quin

  "Move your things into the suite next door," Kaldill suggested when Justis rose to leave. "You and Quin. Daragar and I have this building protected—none will approach her here—I fear the residents will attempt to find her when she is eating or sleeping if we do not."

  "That sounds reasonable. I'll move my things tomorrow, and arrange for Quin's things to be moved as well. Sleep here tonight," Justis nodded to me. "I'd feel better if you did."

  I swallowed my concerns—I'd find a way, surely, to move the metal box without anyone asking questions.

  * * *

  The morning brought breakfast and a debate. Ordin wanted to stay in Fyris. Justis wanted him to leave for Avii Castle after the meal.

  "We're only waiting for the Prince to arrive with his troops—the population will be moved after that," Gurnil argued Ordin's case when Ordin's face darkened with anger.

  "If the people can be moved, why can't the troops be moved as well?" Justis stood and rustled his wings—he was just as angry as Ordin—perhaps more so.

  "The healers here are overworked as it is, and you're suggesting we take one of them away?" Gurnil hissed.

  "Please stop—this disagreement is doing more harm than good," Kaldill held up a hand after a swift glance in my direction. "If you wish the troops moved, Daragar and I shall do it—with the Prince's permission. I warn you, however, another debate will ensue, I think, over whether he should allow this exodus."

  He was right—I wasn't sure what Amlis might think of relocation. It could take time for him to see what a dire state Fyris was in before he realized that he would have no kingdom if the people were all dead.

  Time was growing short. Whatever the wizard had done to the planet's core was making the poison grow exponentially. I couldn't grasp the how or why of it—I only knew that it was.

  "Have any new soil samples been taken recently?" I stood and blurted.

  "No—they're working on what they already have," Berel said. Until now, he'd listened to the debate without comment. "Do you think we should?" he asked.

  "Yes. It's so much worse, now," I hugged myself. "Fyris will die in a moon-turn if we don't get the people away from here."

  Kaldill didn't bother to ask how I knew that. Daragar appeared at his side—I'm sure he'd been listening to the conversation from elsewhere. Someday, I hoped to understand how he did that.

  "Tory and Korde are with the Prince—they carried rations in so the troops wouldn't raid villages," Reah spoke to Kaldill.

  "I'll bring them back," Kaldill nodded, standing and drawing himself to his full height. At that moment, I saw the true Elf King—stern and authoritative. Amlis would have a battle he couldn't win if he disagreed with Kaldill in any way. A sigh escaped my lips the moment he and Daragar disappeared.

  * * *

  "Three found dead in their tents this morning," Rodrik muttered as he settled on the makeshift stool inside Amlis' tent. "The ones reported as sickly yesterday."

  "They're dying of the poison, Rod," Amlis shook his head. "They'd have died of starvation without the rations brought by Torevik and Kordevik. Have there been any messages from Mother or Uncle Rath?"

  "Nothing today," Rodrik shook his head. "What has changed, Amlis? It's as if the poison quadrupled overnight."

  "I know. I don't understand how it has no effect on Tory or Korde, but whatever they have transfers to me when I'm near them—I can feel it."

  "Tory indicated that he has an immunity to all poisons," Rodrik began.

  "I know. And the creature he becomes? The troops are terrified of him, even when he appears normal. I pray that he isn't angered enough to become the creature again."

  "He is frightening, and I suspect Korde can also become one of those creatures. I have never heard of such, although it serves to protect us and ensures the troops follow our commands. Do you believe Tory and Korde are wizards, too?"

  "Not wizards," Tory lifted the tent flap and blinked into the dimness. "Kaldill and Daragar are here. They say it is imperative that we move you and the troops to Lironis now—a decision must be made before all of Fyris dies."

  * * *

  Lironis

  Quin

  Amlis and his troops arrived and the ensuing debate went on while Ordin (who'd stayed for now) and I did our best to heal the sick, whose numbers had tripled overnight. Some of those we saw were troops from Amlis' army.

  Rodrik, who stopped by for a short time and asked for something to cure Beatris' headache, let me know there was no clear winner yet in the continuing argument. I merely shook my head at him as he accepted the small bottle from Ordin and strode away.

  Beatris had done her best to stay away from anyone who wore wings once we arrived in Lironis—she felt embarrassed and inadequate around us. Instead, she chose to keep close to Omina, who now had a circle of minor noblewomen about her. Both Omina and Beatris were tended by Sophie, with Yissy receiving much attention from all of them.

  Except for Yissy, there were no other children in the castle. Breaking away from that thought, I turned to my next patient, a man who should be young and strong, but who'd broken his leg and contracted the wasting disease. I hoped the decision to leave Fyris behind came soon.

  Very soon.

  * * *

  "Lironis is far better off than the lands between here and Vhrist," Amlis argued. "I could feel it the moment I landed. Leagues away, the ground beneath my feet groaned with the poison. I hear that most of those who are waiting in the courtyard for treatment are from outlying villages, not here."

  "How do you explain that?" Justis asked, his voice frosty and his dark eyes narrowed in speculation.

  "I can't, I just feel it—the difference," Amlis shrugged.

  "How long will that remain true?" Gurnil asked. "You don't know, and neither do any of us. All your people cannot live in Lironis—and without sufficient crop harvests and healthy animals, they will starve if the poison doesn't kill them first."

  "This is our land. My concern is that we will not be allowed to return, once we leave it."

  "It may never be safe to return," Gurnil exploded. "Need I remind you of the reason we stand here today, debating your exodus? Queen Elabeth kept the poison at bay, yet she died here, with none to come to her aid." His wings snapped out, indicating the depth of his anger.

  "Fold your wings, Master Librarian," Justis said quietly. "The Prince realizes he has no choice. He merely doesn't want to say it."

  "My Prince," Rodrik interrupted.

  "What is it?" Amlis turned toward his man-at-arms.

  "Do you recall the old physician's words?"

  "What?" Amlis was confused by Rodrik's question.

  "Do you remember when I went to him, asking about Quin? When we believed that she was Lady Rinda's child after I spoke with the old man?"

  "Yes," Amlis shook his head. "But what bearing does that have o
n this?"

  "He said 'have you asked yourself why the deaths and deformities affecting Fyris have failed to touch Lironis?' He told me to ponder that question, before telling me that you and I should leave Lironis behind. He also said that your father believed he sent Lady Rinda's child to the kitchen. I realize now that the old physician knew better."

  "Are you suggesting that Quin is Elabeth and Camryn's daughter?" Amlis grasped Rodrik's meaning quickly.

  "I don't know," Rodrik began.

  "We don't have a clear answer either," Gurnil began. "We had her DNA tested by scientists in Kondar. Their response was that the tests were inconclusive. We have no concrete evidence as to whom Quin may be."

  "I have asked the ships' technicians to do a test on the child's remains sent to Avii Castle," Justis announced. "I believe we will know soon whether Lirin, Elabeth and Camryn's daughter, died here or lives, still."

  "Either way, do you think Quin has something to do with holding the poison at bay here in Lironis? If she goes to Vhrist or elsewhere, will that also hold true?" Berel asked. He had his tab-vid set on the meeting table, recording the debate for his father.

  That's when the call came. "Son?" High President Charkisul began.

  "Father, what is it?" Berel asked.

  "I also have a confession to make. Tell those people to leave Fyris behind. We've already done DNA testing on Quin, and the tests were not inconclusive as we said. At the time, I only thought to save her life and spare her pain—from those who could do harm. Quin has no connection to anyone on this planet."

  * * *

  Quin

  Something was different—I could feel it. Since it concerned me, however, I had no idea what it might be. Forcing those thoughts away, as worrying as they were, I went back to healing the sick.

  * * *

  "My question is this—does this change how you feel about her?" Kaldill demanded. He and Daragar asked for a few moments with Justis when the meeting broke for the midday meal.

  Kaldill knew the attendees would break into groups—he'd already seen Rath, Omina, Amlis and Rodrik leave together.

  "No. At least—no." Justis scrubbed his face with a hand before turning back to Kaldill and the Larentii who stood behind him. "I know not what my brother will think, however."