Chapter 50
CHAPTER FIFTY
THOMAS
“And those that fall upholding the Word of the One will return to his keep in Velkyn, to live in grace and glory forever more.”
~ The Book of Bread and Salt
E very bone in my body ached, and I hoped it was because I was exhausted, but I wasn’t sure anymore. The stones beneath my feet were icy. I couldn’t imagine the keep ever feeling like home. It didn’t feel like prosperity, either. It felt like a tomb.
Odds looked good that I’d have company in a common grave, so that was a boon. I didn’t think I was cut out for a tomb.
I lifted my hand and rapped on the door. In the quiet that followed, I listened for sounds of stirring inside. The lady rose early. She’d see me.
The sound of dripping water made me glance down. I was soaking wet and filthy.
Wishing I’d changed clothes first, I was considering turning back to the barracks. Was the bathhouse still open? The door opened, though, and Chay met my eyes, his expression turning solemn as he looked at me. I doubted he’d shaved in days, and his hair was a disgrace. His boots, at least, were polished well. Swallowing advice that he didn’t want and probably didn’t need this moment, I nodded and let myself in.
Immediately, I noticed the lady’s pallor and the large pupils that were tell-tale signs of the disease firmly established. And the last hope I had plummeted.
Rose had gotten away, though. I stood away from her rugs, dripping on the stone, and somehow managed to say, “We’ve set up the hospital in the market square, my lady, as was ordered.”
“Thanking you,” she said, her eyes big and gentle and worried, like a wobbly-legged calf.
I braced myself and accepted it with a nod. “I need to report, my lady, that we were set upon by a group not wearing any colors. They killed most of the staff and those who fought back, and made off with the food, medicines, our herbalist, and a number of carts.” I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “We haven’t the men to retrieve them.” I’d gone to Kaelson first to confirm what I’d already known. I wanted to be sure before I gave the lady the most accurate account I could. “I’m sorry, my lady. I’ve failed you.”
She was shaking her head firmly. “You did what you could. The failure is mine, not yours.”
She wasn’t crying. I didn’t understand why she wasn’t crying, though she’d been so distraught last I’d seen her. I didn’t dare ask after Isolde. “Is it your wish that I carry on at the hospital?” I asked.
“Are you willing to, still?”
I thought of the shocked expressions of the survivors who hadn’t seen war, the man whose guts had spilled over the road and tangled him up, who’d begged me to put him out of his misery. I thought of the herbalist’s sobs and the feel of my spear splintering. And I thought of Rose, safe in the keep I couldn’t picture, picking blueberries come the summer.
“Yes, my lady.”
“That job is even more important today than it was last week,” she said quietly. “If you’re willing, Thomas, I’d be grateful if you’d fill that role.”
I swallowed around the knot in my throat, bowing. “It may be worth considering turning the bailey or a wing into a hospital, my lady,” I said, hoping the suggestion wouldn’t offend. “Our numbers are dwindling. We no longer need the large spaces, and keeping a building warm is easier than a tent.”
“Kaelson advised we keep our infirmary for injuries,” she said with a frown. “But you’re right, we have entire wings that are standing empty, or close to empty, now. You’re already established in the market, yes?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Then I can get back to you soon? I don’t need to address that immediately?”
The knobbly-legged little calf was learning how to walk. My heart ached for the child. “Yes, my lady.”
She nodded and blew out a slow breath. “I’m so sorry, Thomas.”
“As am I, my lady.” I bowed again. “If that’s all?”
She hesitated and glanced over my shoulder at where Chay leaned against the fireplace. Beside his spot, I could clearly see a pile of blankets. My grief turned to fury. He could at least protect her and hide it.
“Do you know anything about old stones?” the lady asked me.
I tore my eyes away from the knight, struggling with the anger. “No, my lady,” I said, hoping it sounded calm.
“Magical cures? The tree in the park?”
I shook my head, my mind on that pile of blankets. I forced my hand to relax from the sword hilt I’d grabbed at some point, feeling the joints click and grind. “The tree, I do, my lady.” I struggled with my exhaustion. If Rose had never left that offering, I wouldn’t be here, in her service. I couldn’t have gotten my family out. There were tears in me at that knowledge. But they were far away. “Some believe it’ll grant protection or wishes, if you leave an offering.”
She straightened. “What sort of offering? How is it activated?”
“Any sort.” I shook my head. “It doesn’t work, my lady. I saw it, on the way here. It’s not guarded anymore.”
“Why was it guarded?” she asked, standing.
“It was often vandalized.” I dug for patience. “My lady, people do desperate things. I’ve seen folks cut off their hair and burn it as an offering to gods that may never have existed. I’ve seen parents offer themselves up.” I bit down over the rest of the examples, clenching my teeth.
“If it worked,” Chay offered, from the side. “It sounds like people would know by now.”
I managed a nod of agreement.
She nodded, letting out a long breath. “All we know that can help is bathing and heat,” she said, sounding as tired as I felt.
“We’ve been burning what we can, but there’s a shortage of fuel.” And not enough to build pyres far enough away that the stink didn’t clog everyone’s lungs. But I didn’t explain that to her.
She frowned at me. “Why?”
“Why?” I tried to follow her thoughts but couldn’t. I was tired and hollow, and furious at this Raider’s Ban wank-rag who’d ruined my lady.
“Fire cleanses,” she said excitedly. “That’s what you told me. Fire cleanses.”
“Yes, milady,” I agreed, my head throbbing. “So it’s known.”
She held her hands to her mouth, her eyes overflowing. “Thomas,” I heard her say. “Thanking you.”
This didn’t make sense. None of it made a lick of sense. I’d taken a knock to the head and didn’t know how mangled I was. It was the only explanation. I needed to go and find somewhere to lie down and hope I woke up again. “Is there anything else, my lady?”
“No. No, Thomas. The Son walk with you.”
I nodded and bowed on my way out. I had a mighty headache, and I’d forgotten one chap’s name, when I’d been listing the dead. I must’ve copped a blow to the noggin. It made everything make sense.
I made my way back to the barracks, dismissing the entire contents of that conversation from my mind. I’d deal with the cunt-bitten coward later, when everything else was clearer.