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THE WOODS FILLED WITH laughter. It bounced among the trees, startling birds and scattering chipmunks among the fallen leaves. The bubbling, joyful sound made its way among the great oaks down toward the water’s edge. It echoed among the giant stones lying half-hidden along the hillside above the lake.
Merrilyn grinned as Justan continued to dig, grumbling and complaining loudly over his shoulder. His scowl deepened as she giggled.
“Curse this mud! The foul stuff is replenishing itself, I swear! What do you need this for again?” he asked, flinging mud from his hands.
“A potion, silly. Why else would I have a handsome prince on his hands and knees for me?” She laughed as mud splattered the side of his face, and he smiled despite himself.
“What’s it called?” he asked as he pulled at the elusive object beneath the mud.
“What? The potion?”
“No, this!” He whirled around, a muddy lump in the palm of his hand.
Merrilyn gasped in surprise. “You did it! Oh, you did it! Thank you dear, sweet, Justan.”
She leaped at him, nearly causing him to tumble back into the mud and take her with him. Justan laughed and did his best to keep from smearing mud over her dress. “You’d think I just slayed a dragon for you. If I’d known it would make you this happy, I would have given you one for your birthday instead of the sea stone necklace I bought.”
Merrilyn slapped his shoulder before taking the muddy lump from his hands. Turning it end over end, she inspected it closely before flashing him a smile.
“This is called botcher root.”
Justan wiped a damp lock of hair off his brow, leaving a muddy trail across his forehead. “Well? Are you going to tell me what it’s for, or not?”
“I told you, it’s for a potion.”
He rolled his eyes and sighed. “I know it’s for a potion, Merrilyn! What’s the potion do?”
“Oh! It relieves constipation and painful bowels.”
His eyes crinkled as he grimaced in disgust.
“It could be worse. I might have asked you to help me find the cure for Mrs. Leery’s feminine issues.”
Justan shuddered, shaking as though trying to rid himself of the image her words conjured in his head. Merrilyn laughed and began carefully wrapping the botcher root in a linen cloth before placing it in her satchel. They left the spring and followed the trickling stream down the hillside to the edge of the lake, where they stopped to wash the mud from their hands.
Merrilyn glanced over at Justan and grinned as he scrubbed at the mud caked between his fingers. He towered over her, broad shouldered and lean, with sandy hair to match his tanned complexion. The younger son of King Andraus, he was every bit the handsome prince. Merrilyn often heard the village girls giggling about his charming smile, but he barely noticed their attention. The only girl he ever spent any time with was Merrilyn.
Their mothers had been friends, making the two of them playmates since childhood, and when they suddenly died in the same accident, Justan and Merrilyn had grieved together. After that, Justan rarely left her side, following her around as she did chores until they could sneak off to play among the castle gardens. Even now that he was 18 and more was expected of him, he found ways to disappear with Merrilyn on a daily basis. His father seemed too busy to notice most of the time, and the two young friends preferred it that way.
“Do you think Rickman is searching for us yet?” Merrilyn asked as she smoothed curls away from her face.
Justan laughed. “I doubt it. The old boy knows me better than that by now. I’m sure he half knew what I was up to when I suggested he set up camp.”
“You really shouldn’t treat him that way, Justan. Poor Rickman, having to gather firewood you have no intention of using. Not to mention how much trouble he would be in if anything actually happened to you! Your father would be furious, and it wouldn’t matter a bit that you had slipped off on purpose when it was his duty to protect you.”
“Oh, come on, Merri. What’s the harm in a stolen moment? They keep me so busy these days that I hardly get to see you at all. You know if he had been here it would have been Rickman digging in the dirt for you. No one lets a prince do the dirty work. Except you, love” he teased.
Merrilyn smiled, shaking her head as she rubbed smudges from her fingertips. “I know. It just doesn’t seem right. And don’t call me love, Justan. People will think things that aren’t true about us. I know that you only mean it to be sweet, but the others...”
Justan frowned. “Why shouldn’t I call you love? I’ve known you my whole life. I can’t think of a single other person who knows me as well as you, Merri. Let them think what they want, but I won’t change us to suit them.”
Merrilyn sighed, blowing a curly lock of hair out of her eyes. “I don’t think you should so easily disregard your position, Justan, or your responsibility to those who expect so much of you.”
Justan reached for her hands and held them to his chest, waiting for her eyes to meet his. “Don’t tell me you’ve decided you would prefer a proper prince now. I thought we were partners in crime.”
“Ha! Since when is sneaking off to dig up roots a crime?”
He smiled. “Exactly! Now, let’s stop worrying about Rickman and get on with it. What’s the next item on your list?”
A faint whistling passed through the air above them, followed by a sharp cry of pain.
Merrilyn gasped. “What was that?”
“It sounded like it came from our camp.”
Her eyes widened in alarm. Sliding from his grasp, she took off running toward the sound.
“Merri! Wait!” Justan called. Grumbling under his breath, he shook the muddy water from his hands and stumbled up the slick bank after her.
Half way around the lake, they found Rickman writhing on his back beside the trail. His eyes were clenched shut, and he moaned in pain as they neared him, the white shaft of an arrow sticking out of his side. Merrilyn knelt beside the man and rubbed his arm reassuringly as she assessed the damage.
“Rickman, I would like to help you if you’ll allow.”
Rickman groaned and shook his head. “No. Don’t touch it.”
Justan stepped forward to lean over the guard. “Rickman, you know she can help. She’s an apprentice to Aileena, the Master Healer of Nomar. You can trust her.”
Rickman opened his eyes and nodded weakly. Merrilyn grasped the end of the shaft and, with a quick tug, pulled it free from his side. He shouted in pain just before he fainted, and Merrilyn breathed a sigh of relief when he relaxed. It would be easier this way.
Digging through her satchel she found the necessary supplies and then stuffed the bleeding wound with thick cotton covered in linen. As she finished dressing the wound, she noticed how still Justan had grown next to her. Merrilyn glanced up to find Justan staring into the forest over her shoulder. She turned to see what he was staring at and a cold shiver of fear ran down her spine.
Standing just beyond the bank, on the opposite side of the lake, was a man in a long, black cloak. He stood half-hidden among the trees just yards from where Justan and Merrilyn had been only moments before. This must have been Rickman’s attacker. As quickly as Merrilyn came to this conclusion, though, the shadowy figure turned into his cloak and disappeared.
“Did you see that?” she asked, a little breathless.
Justan raced towards the bank.
“Justan! Wait!”
She could hear the snapping of branches and an occasional splash as he raced through the brush around the edge of the lake. Surely he wouldn’t be able to reach the figure, who had too much of a lead. She sat there, frozen in fear, until Rickman moaned. After whispering a little prayer for Justan, she turned her attention to Rickman and his wound.
****
JUSTAN RAN AS QUICKLY as his feet would allow around the side of the lake, crashing through bracken and jumping over fallen trees as he hunted Rickman’s attacker. The man must be on the hillside above him. Justan climbed higher, moving sideways along the sloped terrain, his eyes scanning the trees for his target. Maybe he would be hiding among the giant stones.
Whoever this man was, he had been intent on his purpose, lingering to be sure his arrow had made his mark. Now, he had a long lead on Justan, making it easy for him to escape. With a frustrated sigh, Justan slowed to a trot and wheeled around to race back the way he had come. It would be better to get Merrilyn and Rickman out of the wood before catching up to the villain, anyway. Justan would have to come back later with a few trackers and a group of soldiers.
As he neared the place where Rickman lay, he slowed to a walk, trying to calm himself. Merrilyn would work better if she didn’t have an anxious prince breathing down her neck.
The snap of a twig in the woods to his right froze Justan in his tracks. Sweat broke out on his brow, but he resisted the urge to wipe it away with the back of his hand. Turning his head slightly, he peered through the thick forest, searching for movement. Another twig snapped in the distance and Justan stifled a curse as he began lowering himself behind a bush.
The archer, cloaked in black from head to toe, inched his way among the trees. A vicious grin spread across his face as he moved forward, and Justan followed the direction of his gaze. Just a few yards ahead sat Merrilyn, still kneeling over the injured guard.
A slow smile of victory spread across his face as Justan reached for his sword, but it wasn’t there. He hadn’t expected to fight anyone on their herb-hunting expedition. His combat training commander would never let this one go. He could already hear the man lecturing about how a soldier “ought to always be prepared.”
He searched wildly about him, and his eyes landed on the fire that glowed in the center of the small encampment. Merrilyn had given him a hard time about asking Rickman to build that fire since it was nothing but busy work, but now he was glad for it. Still under the cover of the thick forest, he crept forward, careful not to disturb the underbrush and give himself away. Only a few more yards and he would be at the edge of the camp where the fire sat crackling unguarded.
As he reached the clearing, Justan glanced across at the archer who was still watching Merrilyn with a sinister grin on his face. His expression gave Justan the fuel he needed to cross the short distance and grab a log from the fire. With a yell, he ran at the cloaked figure, madly waving the burning torch above his head. The man turned in astonishment and....he was gone.
Justan narrowly missed running into the tree before him. He turned around, peering through the trees in all directions, but the woods were empty. Replaying the scene in his mind, he was sure the man had been there. Tossing the burning log back into the fire, he searched the ground for footprints, or some other clue, but found nothing. A cold fear sank into the pit of his stomach along with a desperate need to get Merrilyn out of the forest. Clearly, this attacker was more than he seemed, and Justan didn’t want to risk her safety any longer.
Running back to the water’s edge, he came upon a most astonishing scene. Merrilyn was there as he had left her, kneeling over the injured guard—except he was no longer injured. They both looked up at Justan in surprise as he came into view, and he could see tears on Merrilyn’s face. Her eyes were wide, and she was shaking. Justan ran to kneel beside her. He searched her face before pulling her tight against him and stroking her hair in what he hoped was a calming gesture. She trembled in his arms and turned to hide her face against his chest, her tears soaking his shirt.
A glance at Rickman revealed that the wound was gone. The skin was as smooth as if it had never happened, the hole in his tunic all that remained of his injury. Rickman picked up the arrow, turning it over in his hands. It still had blood on it.
“What does this mean?” Justan whispered.
The guard looked up at him, eyes wide, but he shook his head. He had no answer. Justan looked down at Merrilyn, huddled in his lap.
“It means I’m the Alaith,” came her whispered reply.
Justan stared for a moment in stunned disbelief then shook his head at the sight of Merrilyn’s tear-filled eyes.
“We must leave quickly, before the archer returns,” he said, pulling Merrilyn to her feet. Together, they raced for the safety of town. No one looked back to see the man who watched them carefully from the shadow of the woods.
The king’s men would come later to search the entire forest for signs of the mysterious archer, but they would find nothing. Duggan knew he had done his job well. His work complete, he disappeared into the darkness with a satisfied smile on his lips.
****
AILEENA SMILED AS JUSTAN entered the room, but her smile became a searching look once she took in the appearance of her ward. She stood to greet them and, as her eyes landed on the bloody arrow in Rickman’s hand, she rushed across the room.
“Who has been hurt? Are you all right, my child?” She took Merrilyn’s face in her hands and searched her tear-stained eyes for some explanation, but Merrilyn pushed her away and pointed to the arrow.
“Rickman was shot in the woods,” Merrilyn began. “We found him, and I knew what we must do to help him, but...” Trembling, she clutched Justan’s arm to prevent herself from falling to the hard stone floor.
“Lay her here on this mat,” Aileena said. “Is she all right? Was she struck as well?”
Justan took a deep breath, but Rickman answered before the prince could find the words.
“She healed me! Like in the old stories. I swear it! I remember she pulled the arrow from my side and when I woke up, the wound was gone! Here is the arrow that struck me. See for yourself.” He handed her the bloody arrow and showed her the hole in the side of his tunic.
Aileena could hardly believe it! She would have thought this all a prank if not for the sight of Merrilyn. The girl was obviously in shock. Aileena knelt beside her and, stroking her hair, she whispered gently. “Merrilyn, wake up, dear. Merrilyn, it’s going to be all right. I promise.”
Merrilyn stirred and lifted her eyes to her mentor’s face. Aileena smiled with relief. Here before her was the answer to all her prayers. Merrilyn was a healer. She would be one of the Alaith of Nomar, remembered forever in history.
She worked quickly, her mind buzzing with ideas as she tended to Merrilyn. The two men stood watching her. Finally, she took Justan aside and whispered into his ear.
“You must take that man somewhere you can be certain he will be alone and unable to recount this event.” Justan looked puzzled and so she continued. “He mustn’t be allowed to spread this news until we are certain how your father wants us to handle this...situation.”
He nodded and led the guard from the room. As their footsteps echoed up the corridor, she closed the heavy wooden door and latched it to keep the curious from hearing her next conversation.
“Merri, dear, are you feeling better?”
“I think so.” Merrilyn opened her eyes and looked around the room. She struggled to sit up, so Aileena came to assist her.
Pulling the girl close, Aileena whispered intently. “Merri. You must tell me exactly what happened in the woods this afternoon. Don’t leave out any detail. I must hear it precisely how it happened. Do you understand?”
Merrilyn nodded and took a deep breath. At first the words trickled out of her between shuddering lips, but soon they were flowing as though suddenly released from behind their hidden dam.
“I could hardly understand what had happened,” she whispered. “I pulled the arrow from his side just before Justan left to find the archer. As I turned back to Rickman, my heart began to hurt for him. Fear gripped me.” Merrilyn shuddered again at the memory, her eyes unfocused.
“I looked up, wishing someone would come to help us, and I noticed the sunlight spilling through the trees. I don’t know why, but I began to pray. I closed my eyes and prayed to Loian. I begged him to show me what to do! I was so afraid Rickman would die.”
Merrilyn clutched Aileena’s hands tightly as she continued. Her voice took on a strange intensity and her eyes shimmered with emotion. “I was startled by the sound of his gasp for breath and as I looked down at him, I saw his wound was no longer bleeding. Then, when I wiped away the blood with the linen cloth in my hand, the wound was no longer there at all! I thought I must have dreamed the whole thing, but there beside me was the arrow, still wet with blood.”
As Merrilyn spoke, Aileena couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. And yet, as soon as that thought entered her mind, it was gone, replaced with what she knew she must do next.
“Dearest, you just rest, now,” she said, patting Merrilyn’s hand soothingly. “I need to take care of a few more details here and then we will take you home to sleep, I promise, love.” She smoothed Merrilyn’s curls away from her forehead and was relieved to see Merrilyn close her eyes in response.
Hurrying to her desk, Aileena wrote out two notes. One, she addressed to a servant she trusted to care for Merrilyn until Aileena had finished her business in the palace. The other, she addressed to the king. Crossing to the door, she peered outside into the corridor. Standing nearby was a palace guard, and she could see Justan coming toward them at an urgent pace. Handing both notes to the guard, she asked that they be delivered immediately. As the guard obeyed, she grabbed Justan and pulled him near, making certain there was no one in the corridor who might overhear them.
“You have seen to it he is detained?” she asked.
He nodded but offered no details.
“Good,” she said. “I am going now to speak to your father. I would consider it a personal favor if you would escort Merrilyn to the parlor upstairs near his chambers. I am certain he will want to speak with her, but she is still very shocked by the whole episode and could use a little tea and perhaps dinner before she has to face her destiny. Do you understand?”
“I will not let her out of my sight until she is safely cared for upstairs.”
Without another word, he stepped into the chamber, and she could hear him whispering to Merrilyn within. Moving quickly now, Aileena made her way up to the king’s private chambers, where he had been studying maps and scout reports for the better part of the day. She hoped this news would bring him hope; mostly, though, she prayed he could be persuaded to follow her advice in this matter.
Her note preceded her. The guards at the king’s door showed her directly into his chamber on her arrival.
The king was seated, just as she had guessed, behind a large table covered in maps and other documents. In his hand, he held her letter. She curtsied low before him, and he nodded to her, but neither spoke until the doors were secure. Then, in an instant, she was beside his chair, laying forth her arguments.
“Your Highness,” she said. “You realize what must be done?”
He nodded. “Are you certain this is the truth? Can it be that the Alaith has been here all along?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I saw the evidence with my own eyes, and her description of the event matches the stories recorded in all our histories of when an Alaith finds her gift.”
He scowled in disbelief. “How is it possible after all this time? Nomar hasn’t seen an Alaith in over thirty years. I had begun to think we would not be given another one, that the time of the Alaiths ended with Benetina’s disappearance.”
Aileena sighed, having feared much the same over the years, but she turned to the king with renewed purpose. “Your majesty, I request that you immediately make plans to include Merrilyn on our journey to find prince Jarrod. Her gift will be exactly what we need if we find the men injured, not to mention how useful she could be if we face battle.”
The king frowned, one finger slanted across his lips as he considered her words. She waited, knowing him well enough to understand the subtleties of his ways. He was more easily convinced if allowed time to dwell on her words. He would ask questions when he was ready.
He didn’t keep her waiting long. “Tell me, what can we expect from an Alaith in battle?”
Aileena thought quickly over all the tales she had been told as a child. “Well, our peaceful history hasn’t tested their talents much, Your Highness, but I believe they can easily heal men who are hurt in combat and can do so from some distance. Short of bringing life to the dead, Merrilyn should be able to perform any healing task she is given.”
“Even though she has only just discovered her talent?” he asked, raising one eyebrow. “What if her skills are too raw to be of use to us? This is not something I would like to trifle with, Aileena. I don’t want to take any chances with the lives of my sons.”
He looked down at the maps and documents spread across his desk and sighed, adding, “I have already risked too much as it is.”