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THE RAUCOUS CALL OF the helwr dragged Deneas from the dream of dragons in a mating flight. Bright sunlight filtered through the half-open shutters and filled the wagon with dancing shadows. She reached for where Trelleir had lain just hours before. Her hand touched a space holding just the barest amount of heat from the beam of sunlight that kissed the pillow. Remembered warmth from his arm around her rekindled. After a sinewy stretch, she kicked off the covers. But made no effort to get up. She was too comfortable.
Brial must be doing better this morning, she thought. The helwr had not made a sound for days other than a croon that Trelleir swore reverberated in his bones.
Memories of other mornings walked through her mind. First, there was the luxury of sleeping past dawn and having breakfast on the ledge outside Trelleir’s cave when she took supplies to him. Sadness replaced pleasure when she remembered he had to leave his home because of her. Head Councilman Caldar would have gone after Trelleir because he was her friend.
She smiled at lying in bed listening to her mother’s lilt coming in the window as the older slayer worked in the garden. Anger, greater than before, flared. Caldar declared my mother a witch and killed her.
"I brought you a cup of brewed atok, a few slices of that pink fruit you like, and freshly-made honey bread," Trelleir said as he pushed open the door. "I would eat fast as it is almost time for the mid-day break."
She reached for the plate he offered. "Let’s eat outside. If it’s warm enough?"
"You will be surprised at the change in the caravan." At her raised eyebrow, he continued. "Betrys already visited all the wagons and declared the sun and fresh air good for everyone’s recovery. People are sitting outside every wagon or on the porches of the private quarters. Some might have needed help to reach their bench, but they made it. Including Brial."
Trelleir's expression told of unfinished business. "We never did decide what to do about Karst." His neutral tone gave no insight into what he wanted to do with the man.
"I know." Deneas shrugged. Her thoughts roiled, before settling on one single point. "I think Karst really has changed. His devotion to Brial seems real. Unless he does something, I will consider his past forgiven."
The topic closed, she watched the activity of the camp and let a companionable silence grow between them.
Something tugged at her mind, refusing to be silenced. "Trell, have you had any strange dreams since we joined the traders?"
"No, why?"
Arguments whether or not to tell swirled in a torrent of conflicting thoughts. Finally, the decision was made. "I’ve dreamt about Hiryur, Drakus, and their herd since we left Keyne’s village. Two of their sons are ready to explore the outside world." She spent a few moments recalling the rest of the dream that lingered just beyond her grasp. "I felt the mare was asking you and me to help guide the stallions through the lands of man."
"I think you were right, Deneas, that the dream was Hiryur communicating. The herd is too far away to communicate directly, so she chose another way, mind to mind." He held up his hand to block any questions. "I can’t say why neither she nor Drakus reached out to me. It could be the female connection between you and Hiryur was stronger. Or maybe exhaustion from the healings made you more open for the call."
Deneas gave a throaty chuckle. "You were up late last night with Feldt and Keyne. Maybe you didn't sleep enough to receive her message."
"About Hiryur's request. Do you think you answered her?"
"It was hard, but I think she understood that we would welcome the stallions." She knew her expression turned sheepish and straightened her features. "The exact response was, 'I won’t eat them as long as they don’t try to kill me'." At the flash in Trelleir’s eyes, she added. "I overheard the mental conversation you and Drakus had when the herd arrived at the waterfall."
Relief that Trelleir not only understood about the dream but wasn’t upset at her revelation eased Deneas’ mind. "Since we’ll be traveling with the traders, we probably should have Feldt tell his outriders that if two large tan horses appear, not to rope them. That his people should just invite the horses to follow them to be escorted to us."
THE LILTING LAUGHTER of the girls working in the garden plots lightened Brial's mood. Baskets full of tubers, fruits, and leafy greens lined the stone walkways that wound between the sections. It was the youths’ first outing since the fever started and their joy in the release of pent-up energy was infectious.
When the night before Feldt had asked for volunteers to check the last season's plantings and pick any early fruit from the trees, it had seemed a good chance to clear her mind. Her grandmother's healings had done what she couldn't and stopped the fever, but no matter how often she told herself she had done everything she could, the lingering malaise of failure refused to leave.
Excited calls announced the discovery of a patch of ripe orange roots and the entire group of girls converged on the spot where the youngest of the group waved.
That should make Telyn's day, Brial thought. Especially if I stay here and let her take charge of the gathering. She has tried so hard lately at her studies that she has earned the right.
A sun-warmed boulder separating a root patch from green bushes loaded down with seed pods beckoned. Unbuckling her sword, she sat down on the improvised bench and lay the sword beside her.
"How are you feeling, Brial?"
The soft words at her ear had Brial pulling her blade from its sheath until the speaker's identity stopped the motion. Instead, she used the spin to stand. "Sorry, grandmother. I didn't know you were joining us."
The older woman nodded at the still giggling girls who had once again fanned out amongst the plantings. "Emrys was returning with the empty cart to get another load of baskets so I asked Emrys to ride along. It seemed a good chance to get away and let Keyne and Feldt have some time to catch up. It has been many years since they traveled together." She sat down at the offered space and patted the empty spot. "Please, sit."
Betrys’ raised eyebrow reminded Brial of the pending question.
How much she owed her kinswoman held her tongue. "Mistress Betrys, I want to thank you for all you have done. I feel better now than at any time since the fever hit." She found herself engulfed in a warm hug.
"My dear, I am so happy. It would have been so sad to have lost you so soon after we just met." The healer held the embrace for a long moment. When she pulled back, a smile still filled her face, but Brial swore she saw a flicker of another emotion in Betrys' eyes. Fear? But why? Of What?
The questions remained unanswered despite her whirring thoughts and the various possibilities they offered. Telyn’s arrival with green stems hanging from her hand stopped the ruminations. "Mistress Brial, Mistress Healer, sorry for the interruption." She opened her hand to reveal a crumpled three-leaved plant. "Brial, this has taken root in the plot where you planted the soother herbs."
Brial tilted the plant this way and that in the light, examining the color and leaf structure. "You have a sharp eye, Telyn. This is nothing I’ve seen before." She handed the plant to the healer. "I think this is just an immature version of snakeberry plant and that we should just leave it alone. That it won’t hurt the other medicine plants."
The intensity Betrys radiated had Brial rubbing the bumps that had risen on her arms. "You are right, Brial. This is an intermittent stage of the snakeberry and is especially potent against cave cough. I suggest picking what you need for the next cold season or for bartering on the trail and just leave the rest alone. By the time you return, there will be enough pods on the plants you leave behind for future seedings and enough new sprouts for any future healings."
As Telyn skipped back to her friends, Betrys' hand on her arm shifted Brial’s attention back to the healer. "That was a good identification. I heard talk in the wagons of your skill as a healer. Who taught you?"
Sorrow at the memory of her missing mother overwhelmed Brial. "My mother taught me. Then after she crossed the veil to the eternal clanhold, an elderly aunt shared the knowledge of plants and healings, as well as caring for the various injuries that happen on the trail to man or beast."
Brial was surprised when the other woman didn't lapse into her usual quiet revelation. Whether as a diversion or for some other reason, the healer asked a question about the properties of the purple bloom growing next to the trail, then the preparation of a poultice from the golden moss coloring a cluster of boulders. The rapid-fire questions left little time to search her memory for answers. Yet somehow it felt familiar. She realized that Betrys was testing her much the same way her mother and aunt had done numerous times. Why is the healer testing me? What did I do wrong?
The faces of all those she lost to the fever paraded through her mind. Fighting down a gasp, she ducked her head. Unshed tears burned her eyes.
The older woman’s hand tightened. "I am sorry, my dear, if I stirred up bad memories."
Despite the light touch of the finger against her jaw, Brial couldn't resist the force and lifted her chin. What she saw added to the shock roiling her emotions. Betrys’ eyes held an understanding that added to the sorrow gripping her soul.
"You have done nothing wrong. As one healer to another, I was just curious." A smile lifted a corner of Betrys’ mouth.
The warmth of a blessing enveloped Brial. This time she couldn't suppress a gasp at the shock. The feeling not only comforted, it seemed familiar. Her mother's touch had felt like that. But how?
The confusion must have shown in her face for Betrys' smile flickered. However, instead of chastising an errant child, her grin returned even wider. "You sensed my healer's benison."
Even as Brial opened her mouth, Betrys poked a finger in her chest to shut it. "Do not deny it." The finger left leaving behind a lingering heat. "Welcome to the ranks. You are a healer."
"Whaaaat?" Brial tried to pull away only to be held in place by an invisible force. Just as quickly as it came, the shackles disappeared.
"Please, my dear, let me explain."
The deep sadness that filled Betrys' face calmed Brial enough to nod for the older woman to continue.
"Sorry for my abruptness. You had such a sure knowledge of herbs and healings, I didn’t realize your kin had not explained things. I am sure it must be a shock." The healer gave a little chuckle. "At my age, it can be hard to wait."
After a scan of the area to make sure none of the girls were near, she leaned closer. "There are different types of healers. Some do what is more first aid than healing. Others have the ability to use plants and minerals. Then there are the healers who can use a kind of earth magic to increase the potency of their poultices and medicines." She gave a deep sigh as if weighing her words. "I am one of those who can harness the unseen. And, dear child, so are you."
"I can’t be." Once the words started, Brial couldn’t control them. "If I had this power to heal, why did I lose so many to the fever? They died while under my care, but the others lived under yours." Once again, the comforting warmth flowed through her body.
"Brial, it is not easy for any healer to lose someone. No matter how skilled or how talented we are, we cannot save everyone. However, if it eases your mind, I think your powers were dormant until the use of mine to heal your fever awakened them."
Her head tilt and pensive expression betrayed Betrys’ own search for answers. Loathe to break whatever train of thought the other woman pursued, Brial folded her hands in her lap and sought a measure of peace.
"Being a healer comes with responsibility and I think your mother wanted to shield you if she could. So she waited until you reached the age for the powers to manifest themselves."
More tears burned her eyes as Brial fought down a sob and finished the other woman's sentence. "And she crossed the veil before she had the chance." An anger she couldn't hide raged forward. "But why didn't Aunt Mererid say anything?"
"While the ability to heal is inherited and runs through the women's line, not all receive the talent. Brial, don't be too hard on your aunt. She might not have known. I wasn't sure until you felt my benison."
The pressure of Betrys' squeeze told more than words how strong her emotions were running. "I am so glad to have found you."
All the tension left Betrys' face and her hand. But it did nothing for Brial’s. Her mind whirled trying to make sense of the other woman’s announcement. Question after question circled. Each demanded an immediate answer. Who will teach me? Betrys leaves tomorrow. How do I control the healing force? Will the clan accept me as a healer or reject me as a witch?
And the worst of all. Will Karst accept me? Still love me?
Clanks announced Emrys’ return with the trundle cart, and with it, Brial knew the return to the campsite. The girls giggling and "Time to go back" prevented any more questions. Or any explanation from Betrys other than a barely audible, "We'll talk later."
THE RIDE BACK TO THE wagons came without any opportunity to ask the questions that demanded answers. No matter how much Brial wanted to talk to the healer, Betrys rode in silence, lost in her own thoughts. The discussions at dinner focused on the upcoming parting and everyone's plans for afterward. Betrys and Keyne would be heading back to their village while the caravan would be rolling through the secret mountain trails. Not for trading, Brial thought, but to move as fast as possible to get to the gathering of the clans.
We have to get there on time.
Grandfather leads this convocation. Her mental tone hardened. We cannot be late.
An errant thought occurred and with it came an all-consuming anger. It felt like everyone worked together to keep me away from Betrys.
"My dear, walk me to my wagon?"
Brial started. So absorbed in her own world she had not noticed the healer's approach. Hope at the possibility of some time alone with Betrys soared. She stood and proffered an arm. "My pleasure, mistress."
The short walk to the healer's wagon went too quickly for Brial. With every step, she sent a prayer skyward. Ancestors beyond the veil, let Grandmother know my desire. Don't let her send me away. She stopped at the bottom step and waited to be dismissed.
The older woman turned at the door, a sad smile on her face. "Please, Brial, come in."
Despite her need for information, Brial could not bring herself to move. "You look so tired, Grandmother. And the dawning comes early."
"Tut tut, child. I started the firestorm with my announcement. I owe you answers. The little time we have left together is yours." She gave a little chuckle. "Don't worry about me. I have keep-awakes for tonight if I get tired. And as for tomorrow? It would not be the first time I slept in the saddle."
Relief flooded through Brial's soul. Her feet moved without conscious control. Even once inside and having taken the offered seat, she waited for the older woman to start.
Finally, the healer gave a relieved sigh. "It is alright, my dear. I understand how lonely being a healer can be. That is why I asked you to walk with me. To help make up for my surprise, I would like you to spend the next cold season with me and Leri, my other granddaughter. Her powers haven't awakened yet, but I am sure the two of you would get along." A smile twitched the older woman's lips basking Brial in a satisfied glow. "Leri will inherit my mantle as healer of Keyne's village and the neighboring ones." A wave indicated the circle of wagons beyond the door. "Your grandfather and I already discussed the visit. He said he will miss you. And the decision is yours."
Brial knew what she wanted her answer to be. Yet, she hesitated. Her heart was pulled in two directions – the lure of magic and Karst. What will happen to us if I go away?
The clapping of hands returned attention Brial's attention to the healer. "Oh ho," she chuckled. "Now I see one reason for your strong reaction to being a healer. You fear how will others treat you. You don't have to worry about the wagons and those they trade with. They won't mind the fact that your talents have increased."
"Why didn’t you stay with the wagons?" The words broke through Brial’s control and rushed out before she could censure them.
Now sadness tightened the healer’s mouth. "My mate was head of the clan. He couldn’t leave the traveling life ... and I couldn’t stay."
Sorrow at the loss of a future she had only just begun to dream of wracked Brial's heart. "So villagers and those who ride the trails can't marry!" She found herself wrapped in a hug so tight she couldn't breathe.
"That is not true, my child. Where my mate and I came from is not why I left the road." Her gaze darkened and a rue smile lifted her lips. "I left to care for an elderly relative ... and my mistress."
The older woman's brows creased. "It isn't a change in your kin you fear." The lines vanished. "It is Karst!"
She reached out and lay a comforting hand on Brial's. "I see no reason why village or wagon should come between you and Karst." She nodded at the door. "Feldt has already told me Karst could join you if you decide to come to study with me. Again, your decision. You don't have to decide tonight. There are at least three seasons before the wagons return to the winter cave."
Brial sat and watched as the other woman pulled a leather-wrapped package from her bag.
"I didn't know why I packed this," the healer said. "I just had the overwhelming need to bring it." A smile broadened her face. "Now I know why I had the feeling. My old teacher was whispering in my ear." The smile vanished and she held out the package. "I believe she wanted you to have this in case the ancestors decide we will not have some time together."
No sooner had the package touched her fingers than a shock ran up Brial's arm. "This is magic."
"Open it, Brial," Betrys encouraged.
With trembling fingers, Brial gently untied the string binding the leather and unfolded the protective sheath. Inside lay a bound book. Ancient pages filled with a neat, tight script told of someone's loving care. But not all of it, she realized. The paper in the front half of the book was new ... and blank. Without saying a word, she asked for an explanation.
The healer remained silent until Brial wanted to scream, "Tell me."