The Redemption of Althalus (49 page)

Gebhel’s command post was a large tent with several cots, a crude stove, and a table littered with maps and diagrams. The half-dozen Arums whom Sergeant Khalor had commandeered carried Eliar inside on a hastily improvised litter and gently laid him facedown on one of the cots.

Come in here, Leitha,
Althalus heard Dweia silently murmur to the pale blond girl.
You and Althalus are going to have to work together when we do this. Eliar’s brain’s bleeding, and there isn’t any way for it to drain. It might have been better if Gelta’d hit him squarely with that ax. If she’d opened his skull, the blood could run out, but the way it is right now, the blood has no place to go, so it’s building up pressure. If that goes on for
too
long, the pressure will crush his brain, and he’ll die.

Are you saying that we have to pull off the back of his head, Em?
Althalus asked incredulously.

Don’t be ridiculous, Althalus. All we’ll really need to relieve that pressure is one or two small holes in the back of his skull. As soon as Leitha pinpoints the exact location of the bleeding, you’ll use a word from the Book to open those holes.

That’s all there is to it?
Althalus asked.
It sounds awfully mechanical to me—sort of like installing a drainpipe.

That comes fairly close, yes.

And that’ll cure him? That’s all it’ll take?

Not entirely, but it’s the first thing we have to do. We’ll get to the rest of it
after
we’ve relieved the pressure. Let’s move right along: every minute counts right now. The first thing we need is more light. Use
“leuk,”
Althalus. We want the tent roof to glow in the same way the dome in the tower does.

All right. Do we need anything else?

Have somebody fetch one of those Wekti shepherds. We need certain plants
to make a poultice and some others to brew up a medicine. The shepherds are
more familiar with the local vegetation than the Arums are.

“Gher,” Althalus said aloud, “go find that redheaded shepherd Salkan, and bring him here. Hurry.”

“Right away,” Gher said, bolting from the tent.

We’ll have to shave the back of Eliar’s head before we can start,
Dweia said then.

“Is your razor good and sharp, Bheid?” Althalus asked.

“Of course it is, Althalus.”

“Good. Dweia wants you to shave the back of Eliar’s head.”

“Althalus!” Andine protested.

Put her to sleep, Althalus,
Dweia said abruptly.
Use
“leb.”
She’s just going to be in the way, and she doesn’t need to watch anyway.

Right,
Althalus agreed silently. Then he spoke aloud. “Andine?”

“Yes?”

“Leb,
Andine.
Leb.”

Her eyes went vacant, and she slumped senselessly into his arms. He carried her to the other side of the tent and gently laid her on one of the vacant cots.

“How are we going to go about this, Dweia?” Leitha asked.

“As soon as Bheid finishes shaving the back of Eliar’s head, you’ll locate the exact places where the brain’s bleeding. Then you’ll put your finger on his head to show Althalus precisely where they are. Then Althalus will very gently grind small holes through Eliar’s skull bone with the word ‘
bher.
’ That’ll let the blood out and relieve the pressure.”

“Has anybody ever done anything like this before, Dweia?” Leitha asked dubiously.

“Not very often, no,” Dweia admitted. “Most people who claim to be healers are frauds—or worse—and they have a very limited understanding of how the body really works. Now and then, though, a few very gifted healers have recognized this problem. Unfortunately, they didn’t have the right kind of tools. And because they didn’t understand the danger of infection, they didn’t bother to clean the tools before they started drilling holes in people’s heads. Althalus isn’t going to use a hammer and chisel or a flint knife. He’s going to drill with a word from the Book, and the poultice we’ll make should ward off any infection.”

I caught a few “shoulds” and “maybes” in there, Em,
Althalus noted.
If
I wanted to put a wager on this, how good would the chances be?

About half and half—maybe just a little better. We don’t really have a
choice, though, do we?

No, I guess we don’t at that.

Gher led the fiery-haired Salkan into the tent. “I finally found him,” the boy said. “How’s Eliar?”

“He’s been better,” Bheid said, wiping his razor on a crumpled rag.

“Why are you cutting off his hair?”

“Althalus needs to get to skin, and the hair’s in the way.”

“When Eliar wakes up, he’s going to come after you with a club,” Gher said. “He’s going to look really silly without his hair.”

“We have to make a poultice, Salkan,” Dweia told the young Wekti, speaking through Althalus, “so we’ll need certain leaves and roots. Eliar’s been badly injured, and we don’t want any infections setting in.”

“I’ve got a fair idea of the things you’ll need, Master Althalus,” Salkan replied. “I’ve cured quite a few injured sheep. Your voice sounds a little strange, though. Are you all right?”

“Something just happened that wasn’t supposed to happen,” Dweia replied. “It made me a little tense. Which plants do you normally use to make a poultice?”

Salkan rattled off some names that Althalus didn’t recognize.

“That should come fairly close,” Dweia approved. “See if you can find a greenberry tree, though, and bring me some of those berries as well.”

“Those berries are poisonous, Master Althalus,” the boy warned.

“We’ll cook the poison out,” Dweia assured him, “and the other ingredients will counter what’s left. A greenberry poultice prevents infection, and it stops bleeding. Now, then, there are a few other things I’ll need for a medicine we’ll be spooning into Eliar’s mouth.” She identified several other plants for the young shepherd.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Salkan asked dubiously.

“Trust me. Go with him, Gher, and take a basket. Bring back the berries as quickly as you can. They have to cook longer than some of the other ingredients do.”

“Anything you say, Emmy,” Gher agreed. And then he and Salkan left the tent.

Get a fire going in that stove, Althalus,
Dweia instructed,
and put some
pots of water on to boil. As soon as the water starts to bubble, use
“gel”
to cleanse it.

I thought
“gel”
meant to freeze something.

Well, sort of.

You’re asking me to freeze boiling water? That doesn’t make any sense, Em.

It
will
work, love. Trust me. It’s a form of purification. We’ll do that several times while we’re making the poultice and the medicine Eliar’s going to be taking after you drill the holes in his head, and you’re going to have to wash your hands in some of that medicine as well. Everything that touches Eliar has to be absolutely clean.

I don’t entirely understand, Em.

Clean is good; dirty is bad. Was there any part of
that
you didn’t
understand?

Be nice,
he murmured silently.

This isn’t permanent, is it, Em?
Althalus asked, looking at his hands after he’d washed them in the peculiar syrup they’d concocted from several different ingredients.
I might have a little trouble explaining how I came to have green hands.

It’ll wear off in time. Now swab the back of Eliar’s head with it, and let’s get started. Listen very carefully, Althalus. We’re not going to bash our way into Eliar’s head, so speak the word
“bher”
very softly each time. All you want to do the first time is just go through the skin. Then you’ll come to a very thin layer of flesh. Say
“bher”
again, and you’ll remove the flesh. Dab away the blood with that linen cloth and swab the wound with more of the green syrup before you start drilling into the bone. Keep flushing out the hole you’re drilling to clear away the bone fragments.

We’ve been through this several times already, Em.

Once more won’t hurt. Let’s make sure you know what you’re doing before you start. I want you to stop immediately when you break through the skull bone. There’s a tough membrane between the skull bone and the brain itself. Flush the wound out thoroughly and then swab it again. Only then do you go through the membrane. Do you have any questions at all?

I think we’ve covered just about everything, Em.

All right. Start drilling.

———

The bright red spurt of Eliar’s blood struck Althalus squarely in the face.

His heart’s strong,
Dweia observed clinically as Althalus wiped the blood off his face.

How can you tell?
Leitha asked, her silent voice echoing in the mind of Althalus.

Every time his heart beats, his head squirts like a fountain.

You ladies are being awfully cold-blooded about this,
Althalus accused.
That
is
Eliar there, you know. We’re not just talking about some leaky bucket here.

Don’t be so sentimental, Althalus,
Dweia told him.
Pack that wound with the poultice, and then drill another hole on the left side.

How many do you think we’ll need?

That depends on what Leitha finds after we’ve finished with these two. The poultice should stop the bleeding in these, and then she should be able to discover any other trouble spots.

How exactly does the poultice stop the bleeding, Dweia?
Leitha asked curiously.

It’s an astringent, dear. It constricts the blood vessels. It’s something on the order of the way sour fruit makes your mouth pucker up. That’s why we needed the greenberries. They aren’t really all that poisonous, but they’re so sour that people believe that they almost
have
to be deadly. Get back to work, Althalus. You aren’t being paid to just stand around.

Paid? I’m not getting paid, Em.

We’ll talk about that some other time. Drill, Althalus. Drill.

“What have you
done
?” Andine demanded, staring at the bandages wrapped around Eliar’s head.

“You don’t really want to know, dear,” Leitha told her. “It was moderately revolting.”

“I mean what did you do to me?”

“Althalus put you to sleep, Andine,” Bheid told her. “You were very upset, and Dweia wanted to calm you down.”

“How much do you love Eliar, Andine?” Dweia demanded, using Althalus’ voice again.

“I’d die for him.”

“That wouldn’t be very useful just now, dear. I want you to administer a medicine to him. It’s a bit on the order of the way you’ve been feeding him lately. You and Bheid are going to have to take care of that, because Althalus and Leitha have to help Khalor and Albron hold off the Ansus until Eliar’s back on his feet.”

“Just tell me what to do, Dweia,” Andine replied.

“You see that bowl on the table, and that glass tube?”

“Is that some sort of brown syrup in the bowl?”

“It’s not exactly syrup, dear. It’s a medicine. Eliar has to receive regular doses of it.”

“Three times a day, or something like that?”

“No, it’s a little more precise than that. Eliar needs very small doses at regular intervals. That’s what the glass tube’s for. There’s a line around the tube to show you just how much to give him. You take the tube, dip it into the medicine as far as that line, and then you put your finger over the upper end of the tube. Then put the tube in Eliar’s mouth and lift your finger. That lets the medicine drain into his mouth. Try it once, so that you’ll know how to do it.”

Andine went to the table, took up the tube, and dipped it into the syrupy liquid. Then she stoppered the end of the tube with her finger. “Like that?” she asked.

“Exactly.”

Andine put the tube into Eliar’s mouth and lifted her finger. “Oh, that’s easy,” she said confidently. “How often do I do that?”

“Once every hundred heartbeats.”

“Mine?”

“No, Andine. You aren’t the one who’s sick. That’s where Brother Bheid comes in. He’ll sit by the other side of the bed with his hand over Eliar’s heart so that he can count the beats. Every time he reaches one hundred, he’ll tell you to dose Eliar again.”

“Why not just give him bigger doses three or four times a day?” Bheid asked.

“The medicine’s particularly strong, so an overdose wouldn’t be good for him. That’s why we need to dose him gradually.”

“What exactly does this medicine do?”

“It counteracts the effects of the greenberry poultice that Althalus used to stop the bleeding. The brain needs blood, Brother Bheid, so we don’t dare shut off the flow completely. We’re walking a very fine line between too much blood and not enough. It’s very much like tuning a lute.”

“How long do we continue this?” Andine asked.

“Probably ten hours—twenty at most. Pay very close attention—both of you. Those regular doses are absolutely critical. Without them, Eliar might sink deeper into total unconsciousness, and he could stay that way permanently.”

“If what you say is true, this might
not
be the place where the main attack’s going to hit the trenches,” Sergeant Khalor said to Althalus with a worried look on his face. “If all that noise and the cave was some exotic trick to get Eliar to this particular spot so that they could kill him, they might mount their main assault someplace else.”

“That could be just a little subtle for Pekhal and Gelta, Sergeant,” Althalus disagreed. “Are they still in the cave, Leitha?” he asked the pale girl.

“Yes,” she replied. “I’m not getting anything coherent, but there seems to be about the same number of people in the cave.”

“It’s only a couple of hours until dawn,” Khalor mused. “They’d be moving by now if they were planning to hit us from anywhere else. Is there any chance at all that Eliar might be back on his feet by then?”