Chapter Sixty. Goodbyes.
Sixty
Goodbyes.
“‘Field-dressed’ is the term, I believe.” Lena rubs her eyes, and drops her hands into her lap.
“One of the herders found him and the sheeplings in the morning when he went to let his animals out to pasture. The cook’s stomach …
had been cut open—torn. Desecrated. In life, that man had a horrible reputation, but nobody should die like that. ”
I picture Merc as he came into our room last night. No blood on him. No bruising. He wasn’t breathing hard. Whatever “work” he performed to prevent things from being traced back to him certainly did not include staging a messy body to look as though it had been savaged by evil.
Assuming Merc caught the cook somewhere outside after I saw the man leave … a demon must have come along afterward.
Fear tightens the back of my neck as I imagine Merc out there, in the darkness … with one of those things.
“There have been attacks in other territories,” Lena says. “We’ve had travelers in the last weeks come here with such reports. And a settlement was burned up north, we heard.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “We saw it on the way here.”
I don’t want to go into the symbols and what really happened.
“What world have I brought her into.”
Lena’s eyes seek my own, but I dodge them and stay focused on the plate I prepared for her.
I can’t bear to know what awaits her, not just because I don’t want the bairn I hold to be left an orphan as I was.
The truth is, I was hoping what I saw of the horse’s future was evidence that everything in Anathos would be okay.
I thought the chestnut gelding had years until its peaceful end and that meant we were all going to survive somehow; the farrier and that maid might have only had days, but our steed … he promised me a horizon.
Or so I thought.
“That’s why all the wives came.” Lena shakes herself and brings the plate onto her lap. “They’re looking for astra to ward off evil.”
“What is that?”
“Just folklore. There is naught real to it, but if the lie calms them in the near term, let them buy what I have of the weed.”
“I believe you’ve sold out of it.”
“Ronl should just give them something else. They won’t know any different.” Lena sighs. “Sometimes, the only way we can help people is by reassuring their minds, even if it changes not a thing. As healers, we must do what we can.”
“Yes.”
We are silent as she starts to eat, and then she pauses between bites. “You have come to say goodbye. I can tell by the way you look at her.” She reaches out and clasps my hand. “You mustn’t go. Even if the flooding lets you pass in a couple of days, even with your husband, it’s not safe.”
“I must. I am … needed elsewhere.”
“Once, the demons were to the north, far off, but every week, they close in. Sorrel, it is far too dangerous to leave—and consider I am saying the Outpost is the better option.” When I don’t respond, she puts the plate aside.
“At least let me see your arm again, then. And allow us to provide you and your husband with some basic supplies.”
“Oh, you do not have to worry about us—”
“You will take everything as gifts for your aid unto me. There will never be a way to repay you, so you must allow us this heartfelt exchange.”
I take a deep breath. “Can you and Ronl leave?”
“This is our home. Besides, Thale protects us because he needs us to care for his women and their … complications. He will let no harm come to us.”
In the silence that follows, I know we’re both thinking the same thing: Can the man protect anybody from what stalks the night?
And then all I can think of is this town burned to the ground after everyone, even this beautiful baby, are sacrificed to superstition even though they are no more contaminated by evil than I am.
“Put her in the bassinet, and let me see your arm.”
I follow the orders because that’s what one does when given a reasonable command, and Lena is efficient: The cloth bandage is removed, the healing inspected, and I’m told where to find the herbs I need to bring her from outside in the shop proper.
As I reemerge from their private quarters, Ronl’s still dealing with all of the women, and it appears as though he’s found the solution Lena came to as well.
He’s filling bags from various containers, and refusing to take money, shooing off the fearful customers’ coppers.
I make motions over my arm, and point to the three glass containers Lena told me to bring to her, and he nods me along.
When I’m back in the bedroom with everything, more quick work is made.
Though Lena remains in recovery, her hands are fast and she mixes and reapplies the same poultice that she put on me.
The wound is so much improved that I feel certain of a full recovery, and she makes sure I have enough for two more applications, which is as much as I’m allowed to have of the components.
She then insists that I go to her dresser and take a skirt and jacket, as well as some blouses and clean underthings, and put it all in a traveling saddle pack. When she tries to give me shoes, I draw the line.
“Lena, you must stop.” I cover my face with my palms because my eyes are getting misty. “It’s too much—”
“You have nothing, don’t you.” Her voice grows soft. “You have lost all that you had.”
“But that’s not your fault.”
“It will be if I do not give some of what I have to you now.”
I shake my head. “No, you need these things—”
“Sister, remember? And what sister would I be if I let you leave with no change of clothes.” She motions impatiently to a freestanding wardrobe. “Now go in there. Go on—Sorrel, if you do not open those doors, I shall be forced to get up and do so myself.”
Turning toward the gracefully carved wooden expanse, I pull the latch on one side of the double doors—
“No.” I glance over my shoulder at her. “We’re not taking any of Ronl’s suits.”
“Oh, I know better than to suggest that husband of yours wear anything but the leather that protects him. No, it’s up on the shelf, there. In the back. Sorrel, let us not argue.”
Capitulating, I rise onto my toes, and stretch my good arm as far as it will go.
“It’s in a sealed fold.” Lena nods. “A little farther—you can get it.”
My fingertips make contact with something soft and square, and I pull out a stitched bag that makes an odd chiming sound as I take it down.
“Put that in the bag.” Lena nods impatiently. “And yes, you must keep it for a special occasion. Some night, when you want that husband of yours to bow at your feet, you will put it on.”
“That’s really not going to happen,” I mutter.
“I’ve been saving it for a festival, but Ronl and I have already served its purpose.” She looks lovingly at her daughter. “Besides, I think it’s perfect for you. Now put the herbs for your arm in there, tie the top, and let us say goodbye—”
Her voice catches at the end and she clears her throat. “Forgive me, I am a little emotional these days.”
After I do what she says, she puts her hand out to me, and as I lay my palm in hers, I sit down on the bed.
“Thank you,” she says after a minute. “For not lying to me.”
“About what?”
“That you might be coming back.”
We embrace, and as I hold on to her, I look over her shoulder at the gray wall. I can’t bear my thoughts, but closing my eyes would just add terrible pictures to all my fears. So I stare at the grain of the wood and pray to nothing I believe in that she and Ronl and their daughter will be spared.
“If I ever do come back,” I say, “I will repay you somehow.”
She shakes her head. “You will always be a part of our family, no matter where you are—and in my culture, there are no debts between those of blood.”
I wipe my eyes. “I’m unused to being claimed.”
“It was meant to be, then.”
When I stand up to go, I know I’ll remember her sad smile and her beautiful baby for as long as I live.
“Goodbye, sister,” I whisper before I leave.