The Healer's Legacy (12 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Milvari ran back to the hold, the bundle of flowers gripped in her hand. She glanced down at the white sticky layer covering her fingertip in amazement. This was a whole new world to her. Plants that healed, plants that calmed, even plants that could make a person or animal rush around in a mad fit. She knew Brilissa used plants to flavor the hold’s meals. The kitchen was always filled with the rich scent of spices and seasonings. But she’d had no idea that the things growing in fields and forest could be used for so much else.

She stopped and stood panting outside the main gate, fearful someone might notice her. Head down, she hurried to the stable and slipped inside. Harl was in the back, raking out the stalls and humming to himself as he worked. She had often watched him, following unnoticed as he fed and curried the horses. She’d even seen him slip under a layer of fresh straw to nap now and then. Sometimes when Harl was asleep and no one else was about, Milvari would take down the brushes and combs and stroke one of the horses, brushing its hair and combing out the long mane and tail. She loved the feel of the horse’s muscles as they rippled under her hands and the way the animals listened as she talked to them, sharing her secrets.

But for most of the past half moon, instead of Harl she had watched the hunter, fascinated. There were no women like her in all of her uncle’s land. At least, none that ever came to Tem Hold. Her mother insisted that proper ladies wore fine dresses and never dirtied their hands.
Fine ladies sew. They direct the work of others. They do not deign to kneel in the dirt
, she’d told her.

She looked down at her dusty skirt and dirt streaked hands and frowned. If not for Uncle Milos’s firm insistence, Milvari’s mother would not have even allowed her to learn to read and write. But this hunter was different. She rode a fine horse. She knew how to read, how to write. And she did not expect others to do work she herself would not.

Milvari took the flowers into the storage room and hung them in the corner behind a stack of wooden crates. People rarely went into the back corners of the room. The little bundle of stalks would dry safely out of sight. Milvari knew she would never be what her mother called a proper lady. She wanted to run like the boys in the hold, to wear breeches, to ride out over the fields and meadows, to have her own horse to curry and brush. The hunter did all these things and more.

Milvari longed to be like this tall pale woman who had come down the eastern pass before it had collapsed. She’d heard Harl telling the other boys about the troll the hunter had fought and killed. She couldn’t imagine anyone committing such a heroic deed. She remembered how she’d watched from the shadows as Harl told the other boys the story.

The thin piece of claw had glinted in the lamplight as Harl held it out in the palm of his hand.

“It’s all lies,” Tratine said.

“It’s true,” Harl insisted. “How else did she get this?”

“How do you know that’s even from a troll?” Tratine asked. “You’ve never seen one.”

One of the other boys laughed.

“It’s the wrong shape for a bear,” Harl said. “It’s too big for anything else. And it’s sharp as a knife blade.” He drew the claw across a piece of hardened leather, demonstrating to his audience the keen edge of the black shard.

Milvari had stifled a gasp at the sight, not wanting to make her presence known. She would have liked to see the claw close up, but Harl kept it with him, and Milvari couldn’t ask him to show it to her. She wouldn’t know how to talk to him. And if her mother found out, she’d surely be punished. Besides, she had always learned more by sitting quietly out of the way and listening to others talk than most people did by asking questions. She reached up and stroked the soft petals of the helmet flowers dangling from the beam. It had always been better to watch from the shadows.

In the main hall, during their daily lessons, Milvari had watched the strange woman expectantly. She hadn’t known what she was waiting for, only that there should be something more to this tall female who was so unlike the proper ladies Milvari’s mother chatted about at length. It was only a feeling, but it had settled in the pit of her stomach, curled tight with anticipation. But each afternoon’s lessons with the hunter had been merely ordinary, reading, writing and a smattering of sums practice.

Until today.

Today’s lesson had begun the same as the others, but then everything changed. Out in the sunshine, as Milvari trekked across the cleared fields to the river, the anticipation inside her had uncurled, becoming a stirring of excitement and curiosity. She had followed behind Tratine as usual, but this time she struggled to keep her feet from running away with her. Her brother stood by in his usual haughty manner, unaware that the hunter revealed to them magical secrets and wonders beyond anything they’d been shown before.

She touched the flower petals once more, then wrapped her arms about herself, as if to hold in her new knowledge. She closed her eyes and, leaf and flower, went over each detail of the day’s lesson in her mind. As she pictured each plant, she began to see a pattern, the way they were connected to their medicinal properties and where they grew in relation to the river and to one another. This was learning she understood better than sums or reading. She hugged herself tighter. Would the hunter be willing to share more of her wondrous knowledge?

Milvari thought about the small book with the brush hen’s picture. She opened her eyes and jumped up. Just inside the storeroom doorway, she paused and peeked out. Harl continued raking out the back stalls, still humming off-key. Milvari slipped out of the stable. The late afternoon sunlight was still bright enough to make her blink after the darkness of the storeroom as she made her way toward the main building.

The hall was a flurry of hustling and bustling. She skirted around tables being readied for the evening meal, dodging kitchen staff carrying plates and cups, baskets of fruit and pitchers of ale that glistened with beaded moisture. No one paid her any heed. Milvari was used to being invisible. Since her father’s death, she kept to herself and tried not to be seen by anyone, especially her mother. She walked quietly over to the side of the room used for their afternoon lessons. The small stack of books that the hunter taught from sat on the shelf. Milvari picked them up one at a time and sifted through the pages. There was nothing about plants.

She thought again about the little book and wondered if the hunter had brought it with her, or if it was one of the books Uncle Milos had provided for their lessons. Perhaps there were others like it tucked between the scrolls and books in her uncle’s study. She had to find out, but she’d never been allowed in her uncle’s personal rooms. The study was in the west wing off the main hall and part of her uncle’s private rooms, the one place in the hold reserved for the holder alone. She refused to think about what might happen if her uncle found her there. Milvari bit her lip to keep herself from shaking. She would have to be truly invisible to get into the library without being seen.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Mayet held the crimson cape up in the late morning sunlight that reached through the unshuttered window. The red silk brocade shimmered exquisitely, but the fine fabric was clearly not heavy enough to provide the warmth she would need. Fall was no season to be married. Lisana should have told that overblown fool, Kaer Sasson, that he would have to wait until spring. But her cousin claimed to be enamored with the brute. More like enamored with his property! Mayet dropped her arms. She well understood Lisana’s hurry. Holder Sasson was past his prime seasons. His first wife had passed on without leaving an heir. Lisana needed to bear a boy child of Sasson’s line as soon as possible.

The room was strewn with clothes and not one garment fit for a wedding. Mayet tossed the cape aside and picked up a long wool cloak. Pale fur trimmed the royal blue fabric. A golden clasp would make it more formal if worn with the right dress. Mayet tossed the cape over her shoulders. Lisana could have at least given her more time to prepare. It was too late to have a proper dress made. And who would keep an eye on Milos and that short-haired harlot while she was gone? She couldn’t possibly go without taking Tratine, and Milvari was less than useless. If only the invitation had come later, there would not have been time to make the trip at all. Family obligations indeed!

She flung the cloak onto the floor. It would take a half moon to reach Sasson Hold and the same for the return trip. The wedding celebration would take more than a fortnight. There was no telling what that so-called hunter would be up to while Mayet was gone for more than a moon. The witch was hunting all right. But not for wild game.

Mayet surveyed the mound of clothing on the bed. She reached beneath the pile and pulled out a silver gown encrusted with tiny pearls. She held the glittering garment before her and eyed herself in the mirror. It wasn’t meant for travel, but if she must leave, she would make certain Milos knew what he would be missing.

She called for her maid. When the young girl entered the room, Mayet pointed at the pile of dresses slung over her traveling trunk. “See that these are packed and loaded on the wagon. And have Brilissa send up that kitchen girl to dress my hair.” She pushed her long locks back over her shoulders.

“Alyn will be busy with the midday meal, m’lady,” the girl said quietly.

“She’ll be busy dressing my hair,” Mayet growled. “There are enough people in that kitchen to feed two holds. Go and tell Brilissa she’s to send the girl up now.”

The young woman curtsied and left the room.

The very idea of a servant telling her that another servant would be too busy to wait upon her was infuriating! “This is what comes of making the lower classes believe they are better than their station,” she said through clenched teeth.

She stared at her reflection and relaxed, trying to smooth the lines of her face, and her eyes brightened. Lisana’s wedding might be worth the trip, after all. This might be the opportunity she needed to reach even higher. Some of the richest lands lay just north of Sasson Hold. With the last of the harvesting done, who knew what other unattached holders might attend? She pulled off her dressing gown, tossing it aside. “There are better holders than you, Milos Tem. And I deserve better!” She stepped into the pearl-decorated dress. As she yanked it up over her hips she heard a loud ripping sound.

Her foot had caught the hem of the underskirt and torn it away from the bodice. She stomped her feet, shaking the dress down to the floor. Pulling her legs out of the glittering fabric, she stepped back and heaved a kick at the ridiculous gown. Pearls scattered across the floor and Mayet threw herself into a chair. As she did, the pile of satins and silks beneath her shifted and sent her sliding to the floor with a thud. She sat unmoving, momentarily stunned, surrounded by shimmering fabrics. Reaching behind her, she gave the offending chair an angry shove. It leaned back, teetering for a moment before crashing to the floor. Mayet scowled at it. There was no satisfaction to be had in bullying the furniture.

The constraints of Mayet’s world wrapped around her like a mailed fist. Without Kamar, she had nothing. As the past holder’s widow, she had no real standing. She and her children were allowed to remain in Tem Hold only by the good will of its current holder. And now, by allowing the peasants to have a say in the governance of the hold, Milos was making changes that would remove even that small bit of security.

She aimed another kick at the dresses by her feet and a constricting knot rose from her chest and into her throat. There was a knock at the door and she choked back the sob that ached for release.

Pushing herself up from the floor, she snatched up her dressing gown, wrapping herself in its silken folds. She might be only a woman, but she was still a noble woman. By the time Alyn entered the room Mayet had regained her composure.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

As Kira stepped through the door, the heat of the kitchen wrapped itself about her and pushed aside the clinging predawn chill.

Brilissa sat alone at the wide board, sipping a steaming cup of spiced tea. “What are you doing here so early?” the jovial cook asked, as she dribbled honey into her cup.

“I could ask the same,” Kira responded warmly, inhaling the scent of boiling porridge and fresh clipped herbs. She liked this woman who ran her kitchen so efficiently. And she liked the cordial feel of the kitchen with its pungent aromas so strong she could taste the savory scents floating in the air. “I’d have thought that one of your apprentices could build up the fires and start the morning’s work."

“Oh, by the wheel, they certainly could,” Brilissa said. “But then when would I find a moment’s quiet?” She pushed the pot toward Kira. “Tea?”

“No, thank you,” Kira said. “I can’t stay. I only came to see what scraps I might have.”

“Scraps indeed!” Brilissa placed her hands on her chest, feigning horror. “Not from my kitchen. But provisions you may have.” She smiled and pushed herself out of her chair, stretching.

“I would hate to bother the head cook with such a request.” Kira nodded in respect.

Brilissa laughed. “Who better?” She put a finger beside her nose and winked. “The head cook always knows where the best stores are kept.”

Kira left the kitchen with a much larger bundle of food than she had intended.

* * *

Trad snorted, his breath steaming in the crisp morning air. The big stallion’s leg had healed rapidly and he was no longer content to remain in the stable when Kira went out to hunt. He was filled with nervous energy and needed more exercise than the short walks around the hold had provided. Kira had barely been able to keep him from running off at a gallop when they’d ridden out in the early haze of dawn.

Kira shivered in the worn cloak Harl had found for her. Luckily, the morning’s hunt had gone well. Along with the brace of fat hares they had caught, Vaith and Kelmir had brought down a fine buck, which was now slung across Trad’s back. Once more, Kira bowed her head to offer thanks to the animals that gave their lives so others on the wheel might live. She considered heading back to the hold, but it was still early and the more game she could bring in before the snows came, the better provisioned the hold would be through winter. Along with tutoring his niece and nephew, Holder Tem had hired her to help keep the hold supplied with meat. Kira intended to fulfill both bargains.

Mist rose from the fields, covering the forest path in a gauzy fog. Kira walked ahead. It wouldn’t do for Trad to trip and re-injure himself. The path narrowed as it meandered though the woods. A small crackle of twigs off to the left told Kira where Kelmir prowled. Vaith flitted from tree to tree, suddenly swooping low over the path ahead of her, his eyes glowing and his thoughts filled with hunger.

“I suppose it’s about time,” Kira said, opening her pouch. The smell of meat and bread reminded her that they had set off that morning without eating.

Kira settled herself on the gnarled roots of an ancient oak and unrolled the heavy cloth Brilissa had given her. It was filled with sliced meat, dark bread and fragrant cheese. The cook had also given her several large apples. Kira pulled off a large chunk of bread and ate it with a thick slice of meat. The cheese was tangy and she nibbled at it between bites of apple, feeding the cores to Trad.

When she finished her meal, Kira leaned back for a moment. Kelmir snoozed nearby, lying in the dappled sunshine that filtered through the trees. Vaith sat a short distance away, eyeing the remaining meat. She tossed a scrap of meat high into the air and he streaked from his perch, catching it before it began to fall. He landed on another branch and ripped the meat apart, stuffing pieces into his mouth.

“Slow down, you little glutton.” Vaith eyed her, a piece of meat dangling from his pointy teeth, and Kira laughed. “All right, finish it so we can get back to work,” she said, rolling the rest of the food in the cloth.

Kelmir raised his head and stood, slowly stretching out his front legs and arching his back. He padded off along the path in the direction they had been heading. Vaith watched the big cat, turning his head while he stuffed the last morsel into his mouth before taking to the air. He swooped down low, soaring close by Kelmir’s head before winging up the path. Kelmir gave a small growl and leaped after him.

By late morning, the hunters were tired. Trad had begun to sag under the weight of the game he carried. Kira turned back toward the hold satisfied that they had gathered enough meat for one day. If their hunting remained productive, she would easily be able to request a warmer cloak and additional bedding before the winter season.

She offered the fattest of the hares to Kelmir and he took it in his great maw. “Here you are, Kel,” she said. “We’ve had a good day.” She turned to Vaith. “I want you to come with me, little one. There’s someone I want you to meet. You can eat along the way.” She held up the rolled bundle containing their remaining provisions and patted the pommel of Trad’s saddle.

Vaith landed gracefully on the leather perch and watched expectantly as Kira unrolled the cloth and tore off a piece of meat. He took the morsel from her and ate it as they headed back to Tem Hold. She talked along the way, telling Vaith about Tratine and Milvari. She sent him mind-pictures of them, showing him how Milvari had finally awakened to Kira’s teaching, while Tratine remained distant. She tried to show Vaith her hope that Tratine would be as interested in wyverns as Milvari had been about plants.

Vaith finished eating, then licked his claws till they glistened, his long black tongue snaking between his toes. He sat tall on his perch, gleaming in the midday sun, when they reached the main gate. Kira called out for Harl as she passed the stable. She stopped Trad beside the kitchen door and began unloading the morning’s catch.

Harl jogged over and reached up to help, then stopped, mouth agape. “Is that a . . . wyvern?” he asked, staring at Vaith.

Kira smiled at Harl’s wide-eyed excitement. She liked this young man. He made her feel welcome and at ease, and his reaction to Vaith was exactly the one she hoped to get from Tratine. “Vaith,” she said, “this is Harl. Harl would like to know if you’re a wyvern.”

Vaith turned his head toward the boy and stared at him. Kira chuckled. “Harl, this is Vaith. He is a longtime companion of mine and an excellent hunter.”

Harl stood still. “I’ve seen them from a distance, but never so close.”

“You could come closer.”

“Won’t he fly off?”

Trad blew impatiently, staring back over his shoulder at them. “Not unless he has a reason to,” Kira replied, untying the rope that held the remaining game on Trad’s back. “Here, help me with this. Trad needs to rest.” She patted the horse’s rump and he shook his head, whipping his mane with eagerness. “You can help get this game into the kitchen while I see to Trad. Vaith will still be here when we’re done with our work.”

Harl helped Kira lift the deer and hang it on the dressing hook beside the kitchen door. As they unloaded the smaller game, he kept watch on the bright winged creature before him, as if he thought Vaith would disappear if he looked away too long. “When you’re done here,” she told Harl, “see what scraps of meat Brilissa will part with for our guest.”

“Really? Do you think he’ll let me feed him?”

“I don’t think he’d let me stop you,” Kira said, smiling. Trad headed toward the stable and Kira followed. “Now hurry up. Sooner done is sooner on,” she called over her shoulder. Her smile wavered. She was quoting Heresta again. A breath of cool air ruffled her hair. “You’ll always be with me, old raven,” she whispered to the wind.

Vaith perched on a railing while Trad was rubbed, brushed, blanketed and fed. Harl hadn’t come into the stable by the time Kira finished, so she took Vaith and went in search of him. She peeked in the door of the kitchen and saw him talking with one of the cooks. Harl grinned and waved when he saw her and Kira returned his wave. She started to step inside to see about getting a plate of food, but remembered Vaith and ducked back out. It wouldn’t do to have Brilissa see her bringing an animal into the kitchen.

She was about to send Vaith off to perch nearby when Harl came tumbling out of the kitchen door. “Hunter!” he called. “The midday meal will be delayed.” He eyed her and an impish grin spread across his face.

“I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me why,” she responded.

“Well, if you must know,” he said with a playful air. “The household is busy with travel preparations. The present Lady of the Hold and her retinue will be leaving on the morn,” he went on. “She will be accompanied by her son, the heir apparent, and they shall not return for more than a full moon’s time.”

“Oh,” Kira said.

“What’s wrong, Hunter? I thought you’d be pleased at having one less student.”

“Nothing is wrong,” Kira said, but she couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice. She’d been so sure she could win over Tratine by introducing him to Vaith.

Harl glanced around. “There are some who are quite happy at the prospect of a moon’s turn without the company of certain persons,” he confided.

His humor was contagious, but Kira gave him an innocent look. “Are there?” she asked.

Harl laughed. Kira knew she should admonish him for his behavior, but couldn’t keep herself from laughing with him. She coaxed Vaith onto her wrist and held out her arm. “Harl, how would you like to take Vaith out for a flight?”