Fate's Pawn 6. cliffie bonus

 

 

Chapter 6

 

Alathan lay on the treatment table, his good leg off the side of it to facilitate reaching the wound. Kaz found a stool to rest his foot on. She bathed the wound with the infusion, and cast sharpblade on the scalpel Varon gave her, not without some misgivings, and took up a small bowl. Kaz cut open her palm and let blood flow into the bowl.

“A pad, please, I will not have power to spare to heal,” she said. Varon healed the wound on her hand, and Kaz nodded gratitude.

Then she wrote a runic inscription up both sides of the wound in her own blood.

“Why blood?” asked Varon.

“Blood of the kindred of the wounder. It’s not strictly necessary but after many years and on such a large wound, it makes it more certain,” said Kaz. “The priestess did it once, and I managed to memorise the inscription; Moon-Runes, not the normal glyphs of power.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “Pain now, Alathan.” And then she cut open the wound in one long, single cut, following where the spear had stuttered off the femur and scored into the thigh.

Then she was chanting, and filling the wound with the infusion, and Varon watched as a most unpleasant sickly orange ooze started flowing out of the wound. Alathan grunted.

“Don’t fight it,” said Kaz. “Glyph-Priest, I will need your aid to close it when all the poison is gone... now the black where it has aged....”

Alathan groaned.  The agony resonated through his whole being, and he fought vomiting with pain, and the remembered humiliation of a defeat.

“It is bringing back every memory of when it happened,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Most people scream, so your fortitude is remarkable,” said Kaz, who was sweating. “Last phase, it will be a thin green flux, and then, when blood alone flows, close it up.” She chanted again, and the last pale green ichor flowed out of the wound,  followed by red blood, and Varon was casting healing spells.

“Hell’s depths! I had forgotten what it was to move my knee without pain,” said Alathan. “Varon! The child has fainted.”

Kaz felt herself falling into a deep pool of black, and surrendered to it.

The last thing she thought she heard was one of those chimes; but vaguely she wondered if she had imagined it.

 

oOoOo

 

Kaz regained her senses in a place her sensitive nose told her was the infirmary. She opened her eyes. They fell on Alathan, reclining on the next bed.

“Better, Kaz? Varon wanted me to stay whilst he monitored the wound. Apparently, I should be in perfect health now, but I figured if I mentioned it felt strange, I might be allowed to keep an eye on you. I’ve already had your friend, Lelyn, in here distraught, because your bed had been... treated... in your absence.”

“You didn’t lie to the healer, did you?” gasped Kaz.

“Not at all; it feels very strange not to have some pain in it,” said Alathan, with a straight face. “Just because I’m dedicated to the truth doesn’t mean I don’t understand tact or misdirection. It’s straightness of the spirit and honour which is the greater part of truth. Now, what if you found out that the Commandant was dying of some horrible disease and made you swear not to tell his wife, where does that leave you? Keeping an oath, or lying to the senior priest? Sometimes you have to deal with situations which are not clear cut. Our god understands that you must take the path of the lesser evil.”

“I’d discuss the oath he made me swear with someone where she could overhear,” said Kaz.

“It would break the spirit of the oath you swore.”

“Some oaths are inappropriate.”

“Good; if you understand that, you have managed to progress further than some Glyph-levels. Choose the path of least harm, and if in doubt, pray. I can... be absolutely certain that Alethos releases you from the full spirit of unreasonable oaths. Truth is beautiful, but sometimes one man’s truth is not the same as another’s.”

“Now I am confused.”

“Would not most Toróg agree that it is good to eat Tróglings because they breed fast and would overrun them otherwise? To them, this is a truth held self-evident. To many of us, this is repugnant.”

“Oh, I see,” said Kaz. “It depends on viewpoint. Selenites embrace their inner chaos, Skyhealer cultists and especially the Knights of the Clear Starlight call all chaos an abomination, and justify murdering even the more harmless herds of Tragosti by spouting bad poetry first. And it’s not as if they spread disease like the Lycoids. Which may not be their fault, but it is a fact that not only can they spread Lycanthropy, but also Hydrophobia, distemper, and several types of plague.”

“Indeed.”

“I should get up; I need to clean my bed....”

“You’re not going anywhere; you exhausted your magic healing me. If you try to use cleaning cantrips, you will faint again. Come now! Did you think me incapable of sneaking out with Lelyn to handle it for you? I’ve warded your bed and trunk a few ways as well, and Lelyn’s for her. You plainly understand using moon runes, so I will teach you how to use various glyphs, runes, and sigils to emulate spells. Most can be activated by your own blood, but there are other means as well. I suspect that embroidering the runes you used on a cloth with strands of hair from a High Toróg, and placing that under a Tor-poisoned wound would work as well.”

Kaz nodded.

“It makes all kinds of sense,” she said. “I need to go find some more silver star for the healers, and some plants as well.”

“Something for you to put together a team to quest with,” said Alathan. “I’ll volunteer to be nominal team leader, if you like. I have to disappear from time to time, but you won’t mind that, will you? You know I travel a lot.”

“You’re not an initiate, are you? You’re a hero or something, aren’t you?” blurted out Kaz.

“Hell’s depths! You are too smart,” said Alathan.

“That’s why my... grandmother... ordered my mother and owner to kill me,” said Kaz, dryly.

“Fools! She was a priest, your grandmother? She saw something of your destiny and failed to realise that by treating you well, she might profit in the end... and has, instead, made an implacable foe. Though you might need the aid of the Toróg eventually, to restore the blue moon.”

“That’s their problem,” said Kaz. “I lost any semblance of connection to them with that conversation I overheard.”

He gave a wry smile.

“Understandable,” he said. “Sleep, now, Kaz; you have gained from the experience, and you should find you have more spell-casting power now, but it has exhausted you.”

Kaz slept, and somehow did not think to wonder why she should have gained more power for having half killed herself.

Alathan gently touched her face. The girl had no idea how much this healing meant; but it was a sea change to everything for him. Now, he was more than a mentor; it was personal.

 

oOoOo

 

When Kaz woke again, it was early next morning, and she felt wonderful. Alathan had gone, and she bounced out of bed.

“Ah, good, totally over your exhaustion; and I’m not surprised that you were exhausted, that is a tricky little ritual,” said Varon. “Try not to be too frequent a customer. Harkon has his name on the bed in the corner because he will get himself into tight spots.”

Kaz giggled.

Lelyn was waiting with a change of clothes, to go and work out.

“There are a heap of rumours doing the rounds,” said Lelyn. “I’m glad Initiate Alathan explained to me that it’s because you know how to cure a Toróg poisoned wound. What do they use?”

“Cold-beast drool and a number of fungi-spores,” said Kaz. “And a bit of chanting. That curses it, which is much of the efficacy of it.”

“Charming people,” said Lelyn.

“They raise undead, you know,” said Kaz. “Tor represents death where Luna and Rogaz represent life and fertility. There aren’t the complexities to the cults humans have, because Toróg are an older race. And Tor holds that if he is a master of death, so too he can control the bodies of the dead.”

Lelyn pulled a face.

They went out onto the parade ground for sword practice, picking one of the rebated practice swords each, which those below the level of sword-mastery were required to use. Harkon used un-rebated blades, two at once, and worked out against half a dozen skilled initiates. Being a sword-master was one of the requirements to receive induction into Glyph-Lordship. Today, Harkon was hard pressed as he worked out against Alathan, both using two weapons from which sparks flew with the ferocity of their bout, and much athleticism.

“Oh, my,” said Kaz. “He really is so splendid.”

“Harkon?”

“Alathan,” said Kaz, with a sigh of pleasure at being able to follow a lot of the subtlety of the sword work.

Most of the temple were watching the bout, including Commandant Pythas. Alathan did a back flip from standing, and laughed in joy. Kaz suspected that most of his joy was having the power in his knee to do it so effortlessly and without pain.

“Come, you youngsters, you won’t learn anything gawping, get to your practice stations,” said Evalla.

“Watching masters does show a lot,” said Kaz.

“None of your cheek! You’ll fight me,” said Evalla.

“Yes, initiate,” said Kaz, resigned.

 She went on guard with her rebated blade, as Evalla came forward.

Kaz’s darksense vibrated against... a sharpened blade.

“Evalla! Your sword is not rebated,” said Kaz. Evalla smirked.

“You filthy little runt, you should not be here, and certainly not with all the fuss people make over you,” she sneered. “But training accidents happen all the time.”

Kaz became grim-faced as she faced a true enemy as dangerous as, or more so than, the Marsh-Creeper. The Marsh-Creeper was essentially a barbarian with some knowledge of how to use a spear; Evalla was well enough trained in a martial cult to be initiated.

“I am in your hands this day, my Lord Alethos, as this woman tries to murder me, guide my strokes, I beseech you and let me incapacitate her somehow,” Kaz prayed.

“I am with you,” she heard the comforting answer. “Let me have control of you.”

Trustingly, Kaz allowed her own spirit to be displaced by the towering power of her god, taking control of her limbs.

The bout between Harkon and Alathan ceased abruptly, and the crowd watching them came, as if with one accord, to watch, instead, the two young women. Lelyn and her partner had stopped, and watched, white faced, knowing that something was amiss.

Harkon exchanged a look with Pythas.

“I sense deliberate murderous intent,” said Harkon.

“Me too; a form of ambush,” said Pythas, grimly. “This must be stopped.”

“I want to see if Kaz can show her a thing or two; it would be a better lesson for any would-be assassin,” said Harkon.

Kaz, having scrambled aside for Alethos, was observing and leaned into his presence within her.

“Good; now you take over and I will be here to back you up,” said his mind voice.

“Thank you; I want to beat her if I can, but I was so taken by surprise, I did not think even she would do this,” thought Kaz. Now she was in control, but with a running commentary of suggestion, approval for good moves, and a poke if she was about to commit to something foolish. She was learning so much from this! It was wonderful. She actually began enjoying the bout, though she flinched to take a cut to the leg as her parry was a little too slow. But Evalla must recover from that blow, and Kaz took advantage once again of her size and speed, using the risky spin move to place her in the right place to move inside Evalla’s guard, and use the hilt of her sword to lay her out with a blow to the chin.

“Unconventional, but it worked, though I hate seeing a sword used as a bludgeon; please do not make a habit of it,” said Alethos, critically.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” said Kaz. “Hell’s depths!” she swore out loud, noticing the pain of her cut leg.

Alathan moved forward, casting healing.

“This woman is all that is what we despise, an assassin, pretending to have the wrong sword for a practice bout,” he said, coldly. “This goes beyond anything but deliberate attempted murder. She has no honour.”

“Bring her round, Varon,” said Pythas. Evalla, coming to, was dragged to her feet.

“Evalla the foresworn, I strip you of your initiatehood of Alethos,” said Pythas. “You lose whatever gift you took at your initiation, but not the geasa associated with it. You are marked to anyone initiated as apostate, and you will collect your belongings and depart from here, and you will find yourself under attack from the temple spirits of reprisal to remind you that dishonour is despicable. If any Alethosi meets you in the future, he may kill you with impunity from this cult.”

Evalla’s face showed the enormity of having godly gifts and favour stripped from her. Arana, the Glyph-Priest, went with the woman to her room to pack, and to see her out of the temple, her hair whipping and her body flinching at the attacks of the spirits of reprisal.

“She’ll go over to the Selenites, I imagine,” said Lelyn. “In a rival temple, the spirits cannot reach her, of course.”

“If she’s as jealous and spiteful there, she’s more trouble to them than aid,” said Kaz. “Thank you for the healing, Alathan.”

“After your healing of me, it is the least I could do,” said Alathan. He felt a bond with her, for she had pushed herself beyond her own limits to aid him, risking her life.

And, too, there had been that chime.

She was very young; but time would cure that. And she had an exotic beauty now she had filled out, and lost the pinched look.

“I need to learn to tumble, to do what you were doing with Harkon,” said Kaz.

“Oh, I will teach you that, too,” said Alathan. He ruffled her hair. She beamed at him.

 

Life was remarkably easy with Evalla gone, thought Kaz, able to go about her duties without worrying about the spiteful woman being ready to attack her.

“It would be as well to go on an expedition seeking herbs for Varon before the summer heat,” she said to Alathan, who came and went from the temple.

“Who would you take?”

“Svargia, Lelyn, Protasion, Kuros, and Evgon,” said Kaz. “I do not like to bother anyone too important... oh, dear, now I have said you are not important, but if you are sent to make me useful to Alethos, then I need you to help me learn to lead.”

Alathan laughed.

“Oh, I had already volunteered. I know Harkon would be willing to go, but he would take over and lead, he could not help it. And you must grow without that.”

“What is more important than who goes, I think is what; we need to have a sufficiency of provisions and ways to hunt when we are past easy reach of any village. And a means of setting up fortified camps without too much fuss.”

“And to compromise between taking too little and too much,” warned Alathan. “You have surely seen adventurers setting off for the wilds, weighed down by goods.”

“We will take a donkey. Donkeys are hardy, and can go on terrain no horse could manage. And if need be, then, if anyone is wounded, they could ride.”

“Take two donkeys so you can rig a stretcher between them,” said Alathan.

“You are clever! Yes, I shall,” said Kaz. “I was paid sixty silvers for going to collect that seer, and put aside the tithing of that for the cult, so I shall see what donkeys cost.”

“Oh, no, child; it is a mission for the cult; the cult pays for the donkeys,” he told her.