Healers (5 page)

“Oh! That sounds like fun. I’ll need to find someone to swap ‘wagon watching’ with myself.”

“Go! I can watch your wagon too!”

Eva smiled and said, “Well, thank you, maybe we will.”

Eva seemed more enthusiastic through the rest of the serving and when Daum came through to get his food, she said, “Nope, I’m not serving you.
We’re
going out!”

As Daussie had expected, Daum protested. They weren’t sure of their finances, they had a lot of leftover food they should be eating themselves, it was frivolous,
etc.

Daussie desperately wanted to go out, but secretly agreed with Daum. However, Eva rode over his objections, “You worry too much! The leftover beans will taste even better tomorrow. Besides, we need to explore this town and learn about new foods we might serve the caravan or sell in the next town. This’s how we’re going to do it…” She poked him in the chest, “Besides we
need
a break!”

Once they’d served the caravan and broken down their serving line, the Hyllises headed for the gates into Denton’s Crossing. Though they tried not to show it, Kazy could tell they were all quite excited to be going out. As they walked towards the gate, they encountered Lizeth with Sam, one of the other guards. Lizeth smiled at them and said, “You lot look like you need some guarding as you head into the dangers of Denton’s Crossing.”

With a laugh, Daum said that indeed they did, as long as they could be guarded on the way to the tavern that had the pizza.

“Oh,” Lizeth said hopefully, “do you think you can figure out their recipe? It would be wonderful to have pizza occasionally on the road.”

“We can only try,” Eva laughed.

The tavern was packed, so crowded that the Hyllises had to wait for a while before they could even be seated. Daum didn’t want to wait, but Eva convinced him that the food in a place this crowded
must
be special.

Kazy thought the food Eva cooked for the caravan was amazing. Her family had not been particularly innovative cooks, boiling much of what they ate into stews. However, none of the Hyllises had ever had anything like pizza. Kazy had ordered a “sausage pizza” which proved to be a small round of flatbread covered with a tomato-based sauce and thinly sliced sausage with cheese melted over all of it.

It was wonderful, and the Hyllis family immediately began trying to figure out how they could make something like it. They decided that on the road, they’d have to bake the rounds of flatbread one night, then add the sausage, cheese, and tomato paste the next night, melting them quickly on the stove. This would fit their usual pattern of baking bread over the coals of the fire they’d used to make dinner.

Tarc wasn’t all that interested in just how the pizza had been made, but he did love the way it tasted. Sitting next to Lizeth was a decided bonus, though she and Sam had their heads together talking about something most of the time.

Tarc and Daum discussed the beer the tavern sold. They thought it had been watered and that the brewers had substituted some other starch, perhaps potato, for much of the barley.

Tarc got up and made his way to the back door of the tavern, following a sign indicating the location of the outhouse. Stepping out into the courtyard behind the tavern he looked around, then seeing the outhouses, started that way. After he’d done his business, he stepped back into the courtyard, but had only taken one step back toward the tavern when a large hand clamped over his face and jerked him backwards.

The thief from the ferry!
flashed through Tarc’s mind. Sure enough, when he sent his ghost out it confirmed the man behind him was much the same size and shape as the man from the ferry. He couldn’t be sure it was the same man like he would have been with his eyes, but the man’s words confirmed it. He growled in Tarc’s ear, “Thought you got away with something this afternoon, didn’t you, you little shit?”

Tarc’s heart pounded in his chest. His first thought was to slow the flow in the man’s carotid again. But, if as he’d promised himself, he didn’t kill the man, the man would become highly suspicious over having gotten dizzy twice around the same victim. The next time the man might knife Tarc and rob him after.

While Tarc dithered, the man pulled Tarc’s work knife out of his thigh holster. “You
stole
my knife from me when I got dizzy this afternoon,” the man grated. “Now I’m taking your knife away from you in return.”

He put the point of Tarc’s knife against Tarc’s chest. Tarc realized he should have clamped the man’s carotid and to hell with the future!

Tarc’s thoughts were confirmed when the man snarled, “And, in case that was
your
doing this afternoon, first thing I’ll do if I start to feel a dizzy is sink this knife into your chest. Got that?”

Tarc nodded his head minutely under the pressure of the man’s hand while his mind desperately tried to think of something instantaneous to stop the man.

The man said, “Now I need a little bit more than your knife to make up for all the trouble you caused me. So I’m gonna take my hand off your mouth and look through your pockets for any other valuables you might have.” The man’s hand started to lift away, then pressed back over Tarc’s mouth, “You holler, you
die
.”

Tarc’s ghost reached out to the man’s upper spinal cord. With Tarc’s head so close to the man’s neck it was easy to stop the blood flow in the capillaries to the part of the spinal cord where the fifth nerve root came off. Since there aren’t any sensory nerves in the cord, the man didn’t feel anything happening.

Bork’s limbs turned to flaccid jelly and he began collapsing to the ground behind Tarc. Eyes wide and mind screaming, he wondered what was happening to him.

As Bork’s grip softened, the boy grabbed the wrist of Bork’s knife hand and pushed it away from his chest. Despite the numbness, Bork faintly felt the kid pulling up on his wrist and slowing Bork’s fall to the ground. Bork didn’t understand—he’d threatened the kid’s life, yet it seemed like the boy was trying to keep Bork from banging his head on the ground?!

Bork couldn’t know Tarc had promised he wouldn’t kill.

He wouldn’t have believed it if he had.

The kid knelt over Bork and put his knife away. He said, “Yeah,
I
made you dizzy today. And now you know I can do even
worse
things.”

The man’s panicked eyes stared up at Tarc as he labored to breathe. The third and fourth spinal nerves supplied
part
of the diaphragm muscle necessary for the man’s breathing, so he
could
breathe. But, without the function of the fifth nerve, breathing was difficult. Besides, having his arms and legs paralyzed had to be horrible. Tarc thought the spinal cord would recover quickly, having only had its circulation cut off for a matter of seconds, but he didn’t know for sure.

“Can’t breathe,” the man gasped.

“Yes you can, you just can’t breathe very
well
,” Tarc said. He moved above the man’s shoulders, “I’ll help you breathe,” he said, pulling up on the man’s shoulders to help fill his lungs, “but I’m hoping you’re not planning to
ever
mess with me or my family again?” He pulled up on the man’s shoulders again.

The man’s neck muscles let him shake his head in wide eyed negation. “No!” the thief gasped on his next exhale.

Tarc pulled up on the man’s shoulders again, “Can you feel anything yet?”

The man shook his head again.

“Can you move anything?” Tarc sent his ghost into the man spinal cord. The blood flow was okay and the tissue didn’t seem different from the rest of the spinal cord, suggesting it wasn’t permanently injured. Tarc pulled up on the thief’s shoulders again.

The man’s fingers moved a little.

Tarc patted him on the shoulder, “Okay. You should keep getting better. I’m going to leave you here to ponder just how much
worse
this could have been.” He paused, then continued, “I’d suggest you get a job and stop stealing from people.” Tarc stood and started to walk away, but then turned and said, “And, you’ll remember not to mess with me or my family, right?”

Lying supine, wide-eyed, and helpless, the man nodded.

Before they left the tavern, Tarc stepped to the back door and looked out. The thief was gone. Hopefully recovered, not dragged off by someone even more despicable.

***

The next day, the Hyllises nervously set up in the market, all wondering whether they would actually make any sales or not. Daum gave out tiny samples of the moonshine he’d been making. The night before, when they’d broken up the sheets of toffee into sale sized pieces, they’d saved all the tiny fragments and they used those as samples too.

Once the stall was up and running, Tarc headed into town to find and buy supplies. He had plenty of experience with buying meats and groceries from his years doing it for the tavern. Kazy watched him go, then turned to Daussie, “Tarc’s going into town all by himself?”

Daussie nodded, setting pieces of toffee out on the leaves they were using as small disposable plates.

Kazy said, “Are you sure that’s safe?”

“Tarc can take care of himself,” Daussie said without looking up.

Kazy gazed after Tarc. He only had a work knife for a weapon.
Sure, Tarc’s muscular, but could he
really
protect himself?
She looked again at Daussie who seemed completely unconcerned, “Are you sure? I mean, this’s a strange town and you guys have just started out on the road, so he doesn’t have much experience with strangers. What if somebody tries to rob him?”

Daussie’s startlingly blue eyes lifted to watch her brother as he turned the corner and slipped out of sight. Her eyes crinkled in amusement as she glanced at Kazy. “He’ll be okay,” was all she said.

As the day passed, sales weren’t as bad as the Hyllises had feared, but they weren’t as good as they had hoped either. The toffee didn’t sell very well. Much more distressing though, only a few people even
asked
about healing. Those who did appeared highly dubious or even smirked over the thought that anyone would seek treatment from an itinerant healer. Even by late afternoon, not a single person had asked to be diagnosed or treated.

Eva especially felt depressed about their prospects for working as healers. She’d almost always had at least a few customers per day in Walterston. She turned to Daum and said, “We’re not going to be able to make this work as healers on the road are we?”

“Remember what Norton said. The caravan almost always travels the same route so eventually people
will
learn to trust us.”

“But Daum,
how
are they going to learn to trust us if we never treat a single patient!”

Daum gathered his wife in his arms, “Have some faith woman, have some faith.” Then, looking over her shoulder, he said, “Looks like we might have a customer for you right now.”

Eva wiped the tear which had formed in her eye and turned to see an old woman leaning heavily on a cane as she stepped up to their counter. Eva’s heart sunk to see the woman, and fell even further when the woman said irritably, “I suppose you have some magic elixir that’s supposed to cure my arthritis?”

Eva shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry, but little can really be done for arthritis. Willow bark tea, willow bark poultices. I can sell you those, but I’m sure you probably already use them. They’ll help a little, but certainly won’t cure you.”

The woman appeared startled and somewhat taken aback. She cackled, “Really?! You aren’t intending to sell me an expensive potion, telling me it will work in about a week or so—after you’re gone?”

Eva frowned, feeling somewhat angry about what the woman’s question said of other traveling healers. “No, and I’m sorry if someone else has done that to you. We can treat some conditions, but there are many we can’t. I don’t sell false cures, and I think anyone trying to sell you something better than willow bark for your arthritis will be trying to cheat you.”

The old woman cackled again and slowly shuffled off to the next stall. Daum patted Eva gently on the shoulder, saying, “Don’t let it get you down. Just keep doing what’s right.”

As they were shutting down the stall for the night, the old woman stopped back by. “Let me see some of your willow bark. I suppose you sell
special
willow bark that works better than anyone else’s, right?”

Shaking her head, Eva pulled out a cloth wrapped bundle. “It isn’t special. We’ve cut away the outer bark so we only have to carry the more active inner layers. But that’s just so we don’t have to carry so much of it.”

The old woman barked a laugh, “So what
do
you treat?!”

Eva grinned at the crotchety woman, liking her somehow, “Well, we treat arthritis, but we don’t do anything really special for it. We sew up wounds and drain the pus out of infections. We can treat some chest or leg pains, or belly pains caused by stones.” She shrugged her shoulders, “We’ll do what we can for any disease, but we
won’t
sell you false hope. We don’t charge if we can’t help you.”