Heart of Fire (3 page)

“Do not refer to my fine equine
friend as ‘horse flesh’, unless you prefer to deal with him
directly.” Humans were such bothersome creatures.

Dragon tossed his head and
snorted.

Eyeing the horse, the merchant
swallowed hard. “Does the beast understand what yer...never mind.
My apologies. Dint mean any disrespect.”

“Fine.” Ertemis held his hand out.
“My coin.”

“About that...” Haemus rubbed his
scarred hands together. “I have another proposition for
ya.”

* * *

Jessalyne awoke with a start, the
remnants of the same familiar nightscare fading as she remembered
her patient. Corah and her very pregnant mother sat at Orit’s
bedside. Elegant in a robe of pale green linen, Lady Dauphine held
Orit’s small hoof and whispered soothing words to her sleeping son.
She gazed at her child with a tenderness that made Jessalyne’s
heart ache.

“I’m sorry, I meant to stay awake
with him.” She’d fallen asleep perched on the stool, head against
the wall, the shawl still draped around her shoulders. She rubbed
her neck.

Corah nodded. “I’m sure you needed
the sleep. Papa left already to attend the morning
council.”

“Orit should have a mug of willow
broth.” Jessalyne arched her back, trying to wake up.

“I’ll make it.” Corah headed to the
kitchen.

“He will be fine.” Jessalyne tried
to comfort Dauphine. “He just needs rest.” The words rang false
even to her own ears.

Dauphine kept her gaze on her son,
her hand trembling slightly as she caressed his head. “He is very
warm.”

Jessalyne rubbed at the stiffness in
her neck again. “It might be best if you gave me a moment to check
his wound.”

With a soft grunt and a hand under
her belly, Dauphine pushed to her feet and joined Corah in the
kitchen.

Once alone, Jessalyne pressed the
back of her fingers against the little fawn’s nose. Fever burned
through him. She pulled the coverlet back and flinched. The gash on
Orit’s flank puffed around the stitches and oozed yellow fluid. A
sick-sweet odor filled her nose and knotted her stomach.

No poultice or balm alone could fix
this. Thoughts of the cervidae who’d been bitten last season by a
water serpent filled Jessalyne’s head. Tyber had forbid her to use
magic. The elder buck had died. She recovered Orit and went into
the kitchen.

“He isn’t healing like he should. I
need to...to try something else. Something Lord Tyber may not
like.” Something I may not be able to control.

Dauphine blanched in comprehension,
more tears spilling. “I’ll speak with him.”

“I’ll wait for his decision
then.”

“Nay,” Dauphine’s voice wavered.
“Don’t wait. I’ll make Tyber understand.”

She closed her eyes briefly. “Can
you heal him, with your...gifts?”

“I can only try.” Jessalyne wished
she could promise more.

“Please do your best. He is our only
son.” She cupped her very pregnant belly. “So far.”

Another tear slanted down Dauphine’s
cheek and Jessalyne started forward to hug her. Dauphine shifted
back out of reach.

Jessalyne dropped her hands to her
side. “I didn’t mean...”

Sadness softened Dauphine’s tone. “I
know.” Hesitantly, she put her arms around Jessalyne.

The rare contact nearly brought
Jessalyne to tears. She inhaled. The scent of new earth and sun
perfumed the expectant mother. She felt the faint kick of
Dauphine’s unborn babe. If the woman was willing to touch her,
Jessalyne knew how desperate she must be.

Jessalyne pulled out of the embrace,
knowing what the contact cost Dauphine.

“I will heal him.” Jessalyne prayed
her words weren’t a lie.

Once Dauphine and Corah were gone,
she checked on the sleeping fawn again. “I’ll be back soon,” she
promised.

She headed through the garden and
into the woods behind the house. There a grove of tall, fragrant
rowan trees encircled a moss-carpeted patch of ground. A solitary
stone marked her mother’s resting place.

“I wish you were here, Mama. I need
you. There’s so much I don’t know, and now a life rests in my
charge. I wish you’d left me books to teach me about this magic. I
know it comes from you.”

Her sigh disappeared on the wind. “I
don’t know if I will heal Orit or hurt him, but I have to try.” The
lingering sensation of Dauphine’s arms around her sharpened the
pang of missing her mother.

She wrapped her arms around herself
but it was a cold comfort. “I hate this useless, misplaced feeling.
I hate it!”

Clenching her fists, she struggled
to calm herself. “It can’t be this power is just for lighting
candles and warming bath water.

“If I heal him, maybe the cervidae
won’t be so afraid of me. Maybe they’ll be willing to touch
me.”

Her voice quieted. “Not that it
matters.”

She dropped to her knees in the
grass. “Dauphine hugged me today, Mama. That’s the first time
anyone’s held me since you died. I can’t live like this. I can’t. I
have to leave, Mama. I need to. I need to go somewhere people
aren’t afraid of me.”

Jessalyne knelt with her arms
outstretched. She willed the leaf-filtered sun to melt her doubts
and strengthen her spirit for the work ahead.

Orit showed no change when she
returned.

There was no reason to delay. She
waved her hand and lit the beeswax candles in the wall sconces.
After easing the coverlet back, she stood at the footboard and
blocked out all but the wounded child. Occasional moans punctuated
his ragged breaths.

The room blurred as she focused on
Orit’s innocent face, on his small body racked with fever and
infection, and the angry seeping gash. Heavy magic prickled her
skin as power flowed through her.

She closed her eyes and visualized
Orit’s flank perfect and blemish free. In her mind, she saw him
healthy and well in both his human and deer forms.

Holding her hands over him, she
wished she could bear his injury herself. She imagined his wound as
her own. Heat coursed over her in rippling waves, lifting the hair
off her face. Sweat trickled down her spine. A shard of pain
stabbed her side. Orit’s hurt was hers for one long, hard moment
and then dissolved, extinguishing the fire within her as it
faded.

The heat drained out of her and she
wobbled, her balance gone. She opened her eyes but couldn’t focus.
She clutching for the footboard, as her knees give way. She dropped
to the floor with a sharp crack. She gasped and her eyes watered at
the jolt.

On all fours, she tried to catch her
breath. She blinked, unable to clear her vision. Then she heard a
child’s voice.

“Lady Jessalyne?”

She tipped her head up, the action
spinning another wave of dizziness through her.

“Lady Jessalyne, are you sick?” A
blurry Orit stood before her, in his human form.

Small hands wrapped around her waist
trying to help her up. She laughed weakly.

“Orit, Orit...” Her voice trailed
off as she pulled the boy against her and hugged him, kissing his
little cheeks. He squirmed out of her embrace.

She studied him, searching for a
mark. Nothing remained of the wound.

“What’s wrong, Lady
Jessalyne?”

“Nothing...absolutely nothing.” Cool
relief filled her as she collapsed to the floor.

Chapter Two

“Our business is concluded, Haemus.”
Ertemis swung into his saddle.

“But wait, ya haven’t heard what I
have to say!” Haemus looked as if he might weep. He rubbed his
throat again.

Ertemis peered at Haemus, impatient
to be paid. Dragon tossed his head, ready to go.

“Yer a man fer hire, ain’t
ya?”

“Aye.”

“Well, I want ta hire
ya.”

Ertemis wrinkled his brow. “For
what? And how much?”

“Guard my way ta Drust and then
Callaoja River. Ten pieces of gold.” Haemus pulled a small pouch
off his belt and tossed it up.

Ertemis counted the coins in the
pouch. Seventy-five as promised. Haemus might be human but his
money was good. Ten pieces of gold. Perhaps Haemus could be
quieter. “Twenty. And conversation is not provided.”

“Aye, agreed! Again, we have a
deal.” Haemus started to reach for a handshake but stopped short,
clapping his hands together instead. “Now, ta the stables ta gather
my steed.”

As Ertemis expected, the stables
outside Slodsham were deserted, no guards anywhere. He shook his
head with disgust. Only the wealthy and careless left their mounts
at the city mews. They might lodge the animal well enough, but here
was a prime example of what happened in time of crisis. When the
cry of quarantine went up, the guards on duty probably took the
best mounts and got as far away as possible. Anyone could walk in
and help himself to any horse he wanted. Ertemis wondered if that
wasn’t exactly what Haemus planned to do.

An unusual quiet greeted them as
they went inside, no shuffling of hooves or whinnied greetings. The
pitch-black gave way as Ertemis’s elven sight took over. There was
good reason for the quiet. “Your horse is gone with the rest of
them. Nothing left but one scraggly donkey.”

“I beg ya pardon, she ain’t one bit
scraggly!” Haemus dug in his waist pouch for a flint and began
sparking it to locate a lantern.

As soon as he got one lit, he found
the jenny’s stall and led her out, scratching the animal’s head.
The donkey had a marking around one eye in the shape of a flower.
“Petal, my sweet girl, did ya miss me? Here’s a carrot for ya.” He
pulled the promised treat from a pocket inside his cloak and fed it
to her, stroking her neck. “I don’t see my cart.”

Ertemis shrugged. “Probably stolen
as well. You’ll have to ride that animal.”

Haemus grumbled something about the
cost of the cart, but soon found a light blanket and some tack and
fixed Petal up to ride. Hoisting himself onto the donkey’s back, he
followed Ertemis out of the stables.

By firstlight, they were well beyond
Slodsham. Haemus pattered on non-stop about buying a new cart, the
price of silk in Drust and many other things Ertemis wished he
could shut out.

He pulled his hood down against the
rising sun. They traveled through the low country forests all
morning, finally breaking at midday for Haemus’s sake. Dragon and
Petal grazed near a small shaded stream, while Ertemis and Haemus
ate bread and hard cheese from their packs. Ertemis finished first.
He contemplated how much longer he would have to abide his noisy
human companion while he refilled his waterskin.

Another day’s ride and the foothills
of Shaldar’s Wyver Mountains would spread before them. The port
city of Drust lay slightly further east on the Callaoja River.
Maybe someone in Drust would have the information he needed to find
his father. Time was slipping away. Once the Legion declared a
bounty on his head, he’d have to be more cautious than ever. Maybe
he should go to Shaldar City first, see if what the Travelers had
told him was true. Or maybe he should abandon the idea of punishing
his birth father until his bond was paid and he was truly
free.

Perhaps in Drust he would ditch
Haemus and find passage on a ship. He had heard rumors that the
games in Myssia were about to begin as their new queen sought a
husband among the fittest men. The thought tempted him. Myssia’s
queens were fierce warrior women, not soft, pampered nobility. He
doubted they would be afraid of him, and they’d have coin enough to
buy his freedom. Even so, the thought of himself as king of
anything was laughable.

Maybe he would seek work through the
black markets. There was always someone willing to pay a hefty fee
for some scurrilous deed. No. Black market dealers were not the
kind of people a wanted man did business with.

If he could just earn enough to buy
his freedom. Freedom. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like.
He would find a quiet spot in the mountains somewhere and
disappear, away from the stares and whispers. Concentrate on other
ways of finding the blackguard who’d fathered him. Plan the
weasel’s slow death.

Haemus snored loudly. Ertemis shook
the man awake. “You can sleep tonight. Time to ride.” Ertemis
mounted Dragon before Haemus’ eyes opened.

“I’m up!” The merchant started. “Ya
needn’t bruise a person!” He no sooner finished speaking before a
coughing fit bent him over. Red-faced, he gasped, “Hold yerself
still a minute.” Haemus went to the stream and drank his fill.
Finished, he hoisted himself onto Petal. He motioned his hand
forward, still winded from coughing. “This wretched country air
could kill a man.”

With a nudge, Ertemis moved Dragon
forward. His mind wandered in the possibilities of his future.
Haemus found his voice and began another one-sided
conversation.

The air cooled as the elevation
rose. The tall pines of the low country gave way to the scrubby
brush of the foothills, and the broad open sky blushed with the
setting sun. The night calmed Ertemis. He reveled in the silence
before he realized Haemus had not asked to stop in some time. In
fact, he could not recall exactly when the man’s chattering had
ceased. He heeled Dragon and looked back.