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A Visit to Rammon
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ALLEI (AUGUST) 1, 1538
Same Day
Southern Quarter, City of Rammon
Reia waited until midmorning, an hour after the hype surrounding Prince Terosh’s return had finally died down, before approaching Rammon. She entered from the South Gate, so she would be in the Southern Quarter where most of the poor resided.
As Reia arrived, a young boy sprinted past her, tripped, and fell headlong, scraping a good portion of his legs and knees. She didn’t inquire after the boy’s health. His tears told her of his pain. He bit his bottom lip to keep from sobbing.
A few silent anotech instructions calmed him. Nevertheless, Reia kept up a steady stream of soothing words and questions to distract the boy while she tended his wounds. A little iretel sap took away the sting, and she applied strips of toom leaves held in place with dandi sap as a bandage. By the end of their short conversation, Reia learned the boy’s name, age, family history, occupation, and favorite pastime. As she finished, Reia asked the anotechs to summarize. She’d never asked them to do something like that before.
They affected a nobleman’s voice as they reported.
Eight-year-old Tyler McDooley lost his father three years ago in a graveground accident on the McQuinten Farm out on the Kevil Plains. Since then, he has worked as a personal messenger for Second Lord Andul. Tyler loves running, so he doesn’t mind carrying messages between Lord Andul and the man’s various lady friends scattered throughout the other city Quarters. Sometimes, Tyler runs just for fun.
Reia had mixed feelings concerning personal messengers. On the one hand, she appreciated that children like Tyler could help their families, but she also knew messengers sometimes suffered mistreatment. Reia didn’t need the anotechs to tell her such things. The bruises on Tyler’s arms spoke volumes as did the wary expression that came over his face when he mentioned his master. Tyler shyly thanked Reia, bowed, and sprinted away.
She wanted to shout for him to be careful but stopped herself.
“Excuse me. Are you a Ranger?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Reia replied, turning to face the speaker.
“Oh, thank goodness!” The woman grasped Reia’s right arm. “Can you heal Kemloth Fever?”
“I can.” Reia extricated her arm from the woman’s grasp and dug through her caydronan sack until she came up with two astera petals. She pressed the blue petals into the woman’s hands. “Stick these in boiling water and make a broth out of them. Wuzle roots should be enough to hide the bitter taste, but if you prefer, vegetables and salt would also make a nice soup.”
“I don’t have any wuzle roots.” The woman’s voice went high with alarm. “Will it still work? Both my boys are sick.”
“Of course.” Reia scolded herself for not considering that possibility. “But I have some extra roots here if you’d like them.” She retrieved three wuzle roots from her caydronan sack, gave them to the woman, and added two more astera petals. “Throw everything in a pot of water and bring it to a boil for about ten minutes, then let it cool and serve it. A weak broth can actually make Kemloth Fever worse, but these should be enough.”
“Thank you.” The woman dashed at some tears, whirled, and hurried off.
Word of Reia’s presence spread throughout the Southern Quarter like wildfire. People poured from their homes, ready to receive whatever aid she could offer. She picked a street corner and set up a makeshift clinic. Reia doled out herbs and instructions for common illnesses, made some of the more complicated cures, cleaned and patched infected wounds, and occasionally, used anotechs to fix the serious injuries. She used the anotechs as little as possible since she didn’t know their true limits.
Her caydronan sack quickly emptied of remedies for fever, pain, and stress. She had started out short of sannin and corlia anyway from her efforts for the McNoughtens and Lieutenant Fericin. The weeks of travel had allowed for some herb gathering but not nearly as much as she would have liked.
As Reia started turning people away, a short man with brown hair and black eyes pushed to the front. A neat mustache and beard softened his otherwise angular face.
“Make way! Make way!”
“Wait your—” a young mother began to protest. The two small children in her arms lay limply, their dark eyes as dull as stones.
“I have orders to follow,” the man interrupted.
“Says who?” demanded another man.
“The Dulad Prince,” declared the man.
Reia couldn’t help thinking he looked like a puffed up little kyrie boasting of a great catch.
“What orders have you, master?” Reia asked, noting the man’s fine robes.
“Doctor, actually. Dr. Ezzai Dentelich, head doctor for the royal family.” He inclined his head.
The crowd around Reia and the doctor rumbled. Some seemed awed, others disgusted, but everyone was impatient.
“What can I do for you, doctor?” Reia queried, careful to keep her tone level, even though the man’s attitude rankled.
“It’s what I can do for you,” the man replied.
“Please get to the point, doctor.”
Doctor Dentelich frowned and raised his voice so everyone could hear.
“His Highness, Prince Terosh of House Minstel, has requested I deliver these to you.” The doctor motioned something forward. His attitude suddenly made a strange sort of sense.
He’s never been here before.
The thought shocked Reia, though she knew it shouldn’t. Rammon, like any city, had its rich, well-off, middle class, poor, and really poor. She had heard that the nobility and wealthy stayed in the North and West Quarters, but she had always assumed the situation was exaggerated. The middle class occupied the East Quarter and the Merchant Quarter, which surrounded the palace. The poor lived in the South Quarter. From there, ground vehicles and hovs swept them off to farms around the Kevil Plains so they could pick fruit, harvest grains, and herd tretlings.
The crowd parted to let a boy through. At least Reia assumed it was a boy, judging by the scrawny legs teetering under a huge, bulging sack. Joy swept through her at the thought of Terosh, but she pushed it away to seize control of the situation.
The crowd buzzed.
“What does the prince send?” Reia had a pretty good idea, but she wanted confirmation.
“Ridiculous stuff,” said the doctor. “Herbs, dried flowers, preserved meats, and kefs in case he forgot something. I told the boy he needed to send real medicine.”
The doctor seemed to be talking to himself, but Reia didn’t care. It took significant self-control not to squeal with delight. She quickly relieved the boy of his burden and thanked him for his service. The boy blushed and ducked his head.
“Thank you, Doctor Dentelich, please convey my thanks to Prince Terosh,” Reia said, remembering her manners.
Not used to being dismissed, especially by a young woman, Dentelich merely glared.
Reia smiled to ease his tension, but soon, she turned her attention back to the people who needed her.
By the end of the first day, Reia had several invitations to spend the night. She weighed each invitation and chose to stay with the Mirovi family whose neighbors happily donated food for her upkeep. Lelianna Mirovi had been the woman asking her to cure Kemloth Fever. Her sons, Tomas and Chaz, suffered from the disease, and her husband, Medri, worked a rich farmer’s land and would be gone for the rest of the month.
Reia enjoyed her time with the Mirovi family immensely, but after two days, the young men were on the mend and the situation grew awkward. With the boys ready to work, Lelianna wouldn’t accept food from her neighbors. Not wanting to tax any family too long anyway, Reia thanked her hostess and took her leave.
As she went out to work that day, she had no clue where she would spend the night, but as usual, word spread and the invitations made a comeback. This time she chose the Veenir family.
Almost two weeks passed in quick order.
Every morning, Reia rose early, walked to the nearest street corner, and spent the day tending sick and injured people.
At night, she returned to her current hosts or found new ones, shared a simple meal with them, and tended to her clothes and body’s need for cleanliness. Sometimes, the care took the form of a lukewarm bath, but mostly, she settled for a cold-water rinse in a small basin. In such cases, she had the anotechs go through their cleaning rituals. While on the Riden Mountains she could track down a Ranger supply cache with a hand-held, tosh-powered sonic cleaner, but such things were nonexistent in the South Quarter.
Thoughts of Prince Terosh often intruded on the peaceful work. She knew no other life than as a Ranger, yet the thought of Terosh changed everything.
I miss him. I miss his humor, his bravery, and even that irritating need to protect everyone.
Her mind wandered back to the Kireshana. She recalled waking up each morning, looking for him, and feeling relieved when she spotted his soft, wavy black hair. She wanted to run her fingers through that hair. Stargazing together had been wonderful. She smiled at the memory of how hard it had been to direct his arm. The way he’d held her while she explained the stories and pointed out the constellations felt so right.
He’s everything a prince should be. Can I really ask him to give up palace life for me?
During quiet hours, Reia thought of her next meeting with Terosh. By temporarily giving him her banistick, she had confirmed her interest in him as a suitor. She vaguely recalled explaining the custom to him, but the memory seemed like a distant dream.
Every night, she waited for news of a colored fire, hoping for a purple one. She asked people to watch the plains for her. Nobody took this for an odd request, for everyone knew colored fire meant a cry for help, one a Ranger would always answer.
***
ALLEI 14, 1538
Fourteen days after Prince Terosh’s Kireshana journey
Royal Palace, City of Rammon
If Prince Terosh thought he might get to relax, he was gravely mistaken. With Tate preparing to go to Mitra, his role shifted dramatically. In addition to dodging increased efforts to pair him to a suitable woman, Terosh found himself buried in lessons on planetary finance, war tactics, network building, rebellion suppression, public relations, speech crafting, banquet etiquette, and anotech mastery.
Insisting that his lessons be practical, Terosh spent nearly a full day meeting his brother’s Rammon informants. They came from all city Quarters and fell into a wide age range, but he noted that most were young.
“Why are there so many children?” Terosh asked his brother.
“Personal messengers are often overlooked.” Tate ruffled the hair of a little boy who gaped at Terosh. “They’re commonplace in the noble houses, and they know how to listen.”
Terosh envied the ease with which Tate moved among the informants, be they man, woman, or child. He knew it was an act, for every time they were alone the melancholy mood took over again.
The bits of news varied greatly. The RT Alliance soldiers were becoming bolder in their efforts to buy informants. The last acid storm had hit farms on the Balor Plains hard. Idonia’s Second Lord might visit Lord Lyaloth next week. The news that most interested Terosh concerned the Ranger Healer working in the South Quarter. He arranged for several personal messengers to keep an eye on Reia. He felt bad for spying on her, but he needed to assure himself of her safety.
He didn’t know how to break the news of his sudden rise in status. It wasn’t something he wanted to bring up when proposing marriage, but it had to be done. She had to know exactly what she was walking into. For most women, the change would appeal to an innate lust for power, but Terosh knew Reia would feel duty-bound to step aside in favor of a more qualified woman. He didn’t want anyone else. He had already found the perfect woman and just needed to persuade her to stick around.
