Artesans of Albia: 02 - King's Champion (6 page)

Rienne did so, sealing the cracked bone easily before turning her attention to the broken ones. She felt Robin preparing to use the power to dull the inevitable pain, but Sullyan stopped him.

No, Robin, I need to feel where the ends are to ensure they align correctly. Go ahead, Rienne.

Rienne could sense the sweat standing out on Sullyan’s face as she fought not to cry out at the pain of the broken bones being set. She was gasping for breath when Rienne finished. These physical hurts attended to, Rienne was about to open her eyes when something caught her attention. Deep within Sullyan’s soul she sensed a site of great damage and poison. She yearned toward it, eager to cauterize and cleanse. Reaching once again for the power in Robin’s hands, she felt him release it as she approached this vast darkness. The Major had relaxed her vigil in the aftermath of the pain and didn’t immediately react to what Rienne was doing. Suddenly, the healer felt a backlash of refusal and rejection so strong and violent it hurt. The irresistible force flung her away from the area.

Don’t stop me, Sullyan,
she pleaded.
I can heal you of that. It will kill you otherwise.

There was pain and panic in Sullyan’s tone.
No, Rienne. You cannot heal there. You will destroy us both if you try. Rienne, HEAR ME!

The healer fought, desperate to follow her instincts, but Sullyan was too strong. Once again, Rienne was forced away. She heard the Major calling on Marik and watched while the Count’s power, weak though it was, enveloped the terrible area, walling it off.

Puzzled and hurt, she opened her eyes. “Why did you stop me? Don’t you know that it will—?”

Painfully, Sullyan gripped her hands, preventing her from finishing her sentence. “Leave it, Rienne.” Exhausted, she lay back in Robin’s arms. “Let me sleep now. Robin, wake me at dawn, do you hear? Time is pressing, and there are things that must be done. Bulldog, make sure he obeys me.”

Robin glared. “You don’t need to set Bull on me. I’ll do as you ask.”

“See that you do,” she murmured, smiling.

Rienne watched as the younger woman fell almost instantly asleep. She was deeply unhappy about what Sullyan had prevented her from doing. When Marik left the hut, she once more followed him into the night. He seemed unable to stay with them, probably realizing how much pain his presence caused Robin. Rienne knew he didn’t believe the Captain’s forced apology.

Before he could reach the sanctuary of the barn, Rienne caught his arm. Staring up at him, ignoring his alien eyes, she said, “That poison is killing her. Why wouldn’t she let me deal with it?”

He tried to turn away, but she held him. Unwilling to free himself by force, he said, “Rienne, this is not something I can speak of. Ask Sullyan if you must. But if I were you, I’d leave it as she asked you.”

She could hear the pain in his tone. “It’s something to do with what Rykan did to her, isn’t it? That’s why she had you seal it off instead of me.”

He scowled. “It has to do with Andaryan blood, yes. More than that, I can’t say. I respect you, Rienne. Please do me the same courtesy. It really isn’t my place to tell you.”

She let him go then and he marched stiffly into the barn.

R
ienne woke to the sound of someone calling her name. She had been deeply asleep, safe within the circle of Cal’s arms and dreaming of the power she had held in her hands just hours before. She sat up without waking him and looked around the dimly lit hut. She could see the slumbering forms of Taran, Bull, and Robin, but there was no sign of either Sullyan or Marik.

Slipping from the blankets, she shrugged into her jacket. Her boots were by the fire, and she took them with her to the door. On a sudden impulse, she picked up her medical bag and slung it over her shoulder. Quickly lacing her boots, she cracked the door and stepped outside.

It was barely dawn. A pale peach light was just seeping into the eastern sky. The ground was damp. It must have rained during the night, and that purple bank of clouds Rienne could see on the horizon threatened more. A pale, watery sun was rising, its first rays glinting in the rain droplets on the roof.

Rienne glanced around, finally seeing Sullyan over by the corral. The Major was stroking the nose of Robin’s chestnut warhorse, Torka. She was wearing her spare shirt and breeches from the pack they had found at Marik’s mansion, and her glorious hair was partially braided, the weight of it falling like a ripple of amber down her back. Despite the potency of that wonderful whirl of healing power earlier in the night, Rienne was amazed to see her on her feet.

Sullyan didn’t stir as Rienne approached and leaned on the railing beside her. The horse turned to her in hopes of a tidbit, but lost interest when it smelled she had nothing to offer. It moved off to crop the wet grass, and Sullyan watched it with unreadable eyes. Rienne thought the younger woman’s face looked sad under the fading pattern of bruises. The dark circles under her eyes had all but gone and the healthy skin was regaining its tawny glow.

The healer kept her voice soft. “I thought I heard you call me.”

The woman at her side turned from her contemplation of the grazing warhorse. “I did.”

“How was I able to hear you?” This speaking and hearing without words was new to Rienne.

Sullyan flicked a glance at her and Rienne had a sudden impression of great sadness before the Major schooled her expression.

“First, it has to do with your being an empath. And then with how you helped me when you removed the spellsilver.”

“I still don’t understand that,” said Rienne. “I don’t know how it happened. I could somehow see what Robin was trying to do, and I knew he was going about it the wrong way. I was getting so frustrated and I just wanted to shove him aside and help you. I guess that’s just what I did.”

“Poor Robin,” murmured Sullyan. “He tries so hard, but despite my teaching, he still sometimes fails to understand.”

Rienne knew how he felt. “Why did you call me?”

Sullyan shook herself and looked up with a more normal expression. “I need your medical skills, if you will. We are not safe here, and I must be able to travel. Your healing last night accomplished much and the flesh you stitched has knitted. I need you to remove the sutures.”

Rienne smiled. “Of course. Where shall we go?”

Sullyan led her into the barn. The morning light shone full through the door, illuminating the hay bales lying on the ground. Easing herself onto one, Sullyan removed her shirt. Rienne unwound the bandages she had used to support the broken ribs, seeing that the whip cuts on the Major’s back had already faded to pink lines.

Deftly, she slipped out the sutures. Sullyan’s skin was sleek, her back defined by muscle honed with weapons training. It was marked here and there with the faint, white lines of other, older scars, but also by ribs and spine made prominent by her recent starvation. She stood before pulling on her shirt, allowing Rienne to examine the damaged area beneath the right breast where the ribs had been driven in. It appeared much improved, but Sullyan winced slightly when Rienne touched it.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “You’ll have to be careful of that for the next few days. Do you want the bandages put back?”

Sullyan shook her head. “I can cope with it now the other hurts have gone.” She unbuckled the belt of her breeches, preparing to remove them so Rienne could deal with the other, more intimate, sutures. A sudden rustle startled Rienne. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the Count rising hastily from where he had slept among the bales. He was red faced, acutely embarrassed, and wouldn’t meet Sullyan’s eyes.

He hurried past them, muttering, “I’ll ... um ... just go and ... um, check on the horses.”

“Ty,” called the Major softly. Rienne frowned; it was the first time she had heard anyone use his given name. Judging by the way he jolted to a halt, the Count wasn’t used to it either. Half turning, he looked back.

Sullyan smiled. “I have not yet thanked you for what you did.”

Marik took a backward step, reminding Rienne of a nervous horse. “There’s no need. You’re very welcome.”

“I will not forget the dangers you braved, Ty. I know what you sacrificed by befriending me. I intend to repay you for that.”

His flush deepened and he turned away. “There’s no way you can. Just forget it.”

Sullyan watched him go before turning back to Rienne. “So much pain,” she sighed. Rienne heard a depth of despair in her voice that had its roots deep in her soul. She had the impression it was not just for Marik’s troubles.

The Major removed her breeches and lay down in the straw with a hay bale at her back. Rienne kneeled before her and reached for her little suture knife. On examining the area, she was amazed at how well the flesh had healed, considering the ruin Rykan’s abuse had left.

Delicately, she removed the first few stitches, but then stopped and looked up at Sullyan, catching the younger woman’s eye. Firmly she said, “I want you to tell me about the poison inside you.”

Surprise showed on Sullyan’s face and Rienne experienced brief satisfaction. Clearly the younger woman was unaccustomed to being caught so unprepared.

“I want to know why you sealed it away rather than letting me deal with it. You do know it will kill you, don’t you?”

Sullyan regarded her narrowly. “Rienne, I never had you down as the devious type.”

Hearing the sarcasm, the healer grinned. “It comes of having four older brothers. Now, are you going to tell me, or do you want to walk bow legged all day?”

Sullyan looked down at herself, half naked, exposed, and completely at Rienne’s mercy. She gave a hard smile. “You do seem to have me at a disadvantage.”

Abruptly, her whole face changed and her golden eyes held such an expression of sorrow that Rienne regretted her question.

“Ah, Rienne, I do believe this is going to be the saddest day of my life. Today I must shatter the hopes and dreams of the one person I love above everyone else.”

Sullyan closed her eyes and drew a shuddering breath. Then she motioned for Rienne to continue her work.

“Yes, of course I am aware that the poison will eventually kill me. Unfortunately, there is nothing that I, or anyone else, to my knowledge, can do about it. You must have learned during your time at the Manor that even a minor infection contracted beyond the Veils could prove lethal to Albians?”

Trying to concentrate on two things at once, Rienne said, “Yes, but we were very careful to clean all the wounds and disinfect them thoroughly. Robin was very insistent about it. There’s no residual infection.”

Sullyan’s face paled at the mention of her Captain’s name. “Perhaps I used the wrong word. Substitute ‘contamination’ for ‘infection’.”

Rienne stopped working, her expression slowly changing into horror. “Are you saying you might be ... pregnant?”

The Major shook her head. “No, Rienne. Appalling as that would be, conception is not the problem. It is simpler than that. If an Andaryan and an Albian couple together, they cannot create life between them. Only death. Our two species are not at all compatible, and the Andaryan seed acts like a poison, a corrosive infection which cannot be removed. With Rykan’s seed inside me, I cannot cross the Veils. The pain would kill me if I tried. Neither can I speak through them without pain in excess of what I could bear.” Pausing, she glanced down. “I am trapped here, Rienne. Even if the poison was not lethal, I could survive here only a few months before my body began to fail. Within a year, maybe less, I would die.”

Rienne stared, her mouth open. She could barely take it in. “And Rykan knew this?”

Sullyan nodded. “So what he did was ...” Rienne trailed off, too appalled and upset to carry on.

“Brutal enough,” said Sullyan. “But also deliberately and callously calculated to force me into a corner from which there is no escape. He did not rape me out of lust, at least, not entirely. He did it to show me how little my resistance mattered. The fact that it made me all the more determined amused him, I think. He knew he had already destroyed me. So even though he did not gain what he wanted, Rykan still has the victory.”

Rienne covered her face with her hands, her body trembling. She heard Sullyan’s soft murmur.

“You were right that evening in my rooms. You said I should not let duty interfere with my one chance of happiness. Do you remember?”

Rienne didn’t want to be reminded of that happy evening now. It was too cruel in the light of what she had learned.

“And now it is too late.”

The healer could barely complete her work; her sight was so blurred by tears. Sullyan herself said nothing more, only watched her sadly. Rienne could feel her sympathy and could scarcely bear it. Eventually, packing away her instruments while the Major dressed, Rienne summoned the courage to speak.

“How long?”

“I have no way of knowing.” Sullyan was unwinding the dressing on her wrist to inspect the half-healed skin beneath. “The power Ty provided to seal off the poison will alleviate the symptoms for a while. But the seal is not strong, and soon the poison will eat through it and start leaching away my strength. I only pray I will be granted enough time.”

“To do what?”

Rienne already knew the answer. In the light of what she had heard, there could only be one thing driving Sullyan now. The Major’s harsh words confirmed it.

“Prevent Rykan from taking the throne. Destroy him. Preferably by my own hand.”

* * * * *

S
ullyan watched in silence as Rienne left the barn. The healer walked with slumped shoulders, a clear sign of the pain she felt. Sullyan had asked her to send Robin out to the barn, and as she waited she took some deep breaths, trying to find the strength and courage she knew she would need. Her heart was pounding, and one phrase kept repeating in her mind.

Robin, I have something to tell you ....

Too soon, she heard his footsteps. He walked briskly into the barn, her combat jacket slung over his arm. There was a look of innocent enquiry on his handsome face and her heart lurched painfully. She forced herself to approach him, and he held her jacket open. Shrugging into it for warmth, she failed to suppress a shiver.