HONOR BOUND (The Spare Heir) (9 page)

“Let’s just say I don’t want anyone to be punished for my stupidity,” he said a bit grimly.

Jen looked at the determination in his eyes and nodded.  She looked back down at his hand and took a deep breath.  “Ready?” she asked.

“Whenever you are.”

Jorem watched as she closed her eyes.  Stress lines appeared on her forehead and her lips pressed tightly together.  A prickling sensation traveled up his spine.  The feeling intensified rapidly until it was even more intense than when Pentrothe was casting a major spell.  That’s when the pain started and Jorem forgot about the prickling at the back of his neck.  It felt as if someone was pressing white-hot needles through his hand.  Jorem gritted his teeth to keep from making any noise.  The pain was more than he had expected, but he knew he had to finish this.  Even through the pain he was fascinated as he watched the cuts in his hand close and seal.

Jorem looked up at Jen and saw that if anything, she was concentrating harder than before.  Her eyes were pressed shut and beads of sweat were forming on her forehead.  Her breathing was smooth and steady, but her body was rigid with tension.  He realized that she must be pushing her gift to its limits and began to understand why she was so upset.

Jorem was beginning to go into a trance to help deal with the pain when suddenly it was gone.  Startled, he looked down at his hand.  He was expecting to see soft new pink skin but to his surprise he saw slightly toughened, calloused skin.  Not only had she healed his hand, she had given it the natural protection that normally came with years of work with a sword.

When he looked at her he could see the worry in her eyes.  Fear that he would be mad at her because of the pain she had caused him.  Fear that he would agree with Healer Devonne.  He had never realized she was so fragile.  She always seemed so sure of herself, so in control.  He looked into her eyes and smiled in reassurance.  Then he held his hand up and flexed his fingers.

“That is truly amazing!”   He spoke in a quiet tone, as if sharing a secret with a friend.  “Not only did you heal my hand, you made it better than it was before.”

“I’m sorry that it hurt.”  Her voice was sincere but sad.

“I won’t lie to you.  It did hurt, but the results are worth it.”  He held his hand up to her face.  “You do good work.”

“But it’s not supposed to hurt.”  Another tear trickled down her face.

Jorem looked at his hand for a moment.  “Would I appreciate it more if it hadn’t hurt?”  He paused and looked up at Jen.  “I don’t think so.  Somehow the pain makes it more real to me.  That’s not such a bad thing.”

Jen was absolutely silent, concentrating on his every word.  Jorem knew what he needed to say, if he could just find the right words.  “Sometimes things are supposed to be hard, even painful.  If I want something and it won’t cost me anything to get it, will I value it?  Maybe I will and maybe not.  But if I have to work for it or sacrifice something else that I value to get it, then it will hold more value to me.”

Jen didn’t look convinced so Jorem decided to try something else. 

“When a person has been injured and then healed what do they remember most, being injured or being healed?”

Jen thought for a moment before she answered.  “Mostly they remember the injury, especially if the injury was caused by a traumatic experience.  Unless, of course, we block the memory.”

“You can do that?” Jorem ask.

Jen just nodded in response.

“Well,” continued Jorem, “if there is a price to being healed, pain for example, then they have something to associate with being healed.  They’ll remember it longer and value it more.”

Jen shook her head and frowned.  “All they remember is that I caused them pain.  As soon as it starts to hurt they jerk away.  So there isn’t any healing to remember.”

“Do you tell them it is going to hurt?”

“No, but”

“So, tell them.  If they really want to be healed they’ll accept the pain as the price.  I even bet they’ll thank you afterward.”

Jen sat for a while before she spoke.  “I’ll think about it.  It makes sense, sort of. But I’ll have to think about it.”

Jorem wasn’t sure whether he had helped Jennifer.  She hadn’t been her normal happy self when he had left lord Andrew’s quarters, but at least she was no longer crying. He had never thought of Jennifer as fragile. Then again, he’d never thought an adult healer would be so callous as to say what Healer Devonne had said to Jen.  If he had time he was going to speak with Pentrothe about this.  Even the least talented healer should be treated with respect.

When Jorem finally got back to his room he found that someone had already packed his things.  A pack filled to bursting, along with his wooden chest, was sitting in the middle of the floor.  The servants generally only entered his room to clean and he knew that they were far too busy with their own tasks to have done this.  It surprised him that they had taken the time to do this for him.  Then he noticed a slip of paper on top of his things.

Jorem,

I saw that you and Jen were having a fairly serious conversation and I didn’t want to interrupt.  I packed your things for you.  I even packed a practice sword in case you find someone willing to teach you new ways to be beaten.  Dad told me it takes about a sevenday to get to Broughbor so you’ll probably be gone for about a moon cycle.   I hope you were able to untangle things for Jen.  I tried to talk to her about it, but it didn’t seem to help.  Anyway, thanks for trying.  Have a good trip,             

                                                                      Jeseph

Jorem hadn’t actually thought about how long they would be gone.  He’d never been away from the castle for more than a few days, let alone a full cycle.  He was both excited and nervous at the same time.  As he lay down on his bed he tried to imagine what adventures there would be on the way to Broughbor.  He was apparently more tired than he thought.  It wasn’t long after he lay down that he was fast asleep.

Chapter X

It was actually closer to midday when they finally got started on their way to Broughbor.  Even as they started down the road servants were still tucking things into the wagons.  It was amazing how much stuff they were taking with them.  With as many wagons full of equipment as they were taking with them, Jorem was beginning to wonder if they were leaving permanently.

The King and Jorem’s brothers rode up near the front of the procession.  Due to Jorem’s lack of experience with horses, he was forced to ride in one of the wagons.  It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to ride a horse; he just hadn’t ridden very much.  He looked longingly at the horses as the royal guard road past the wagon he was riding in.  He felt as if he were being treated like a child and it rankled.

“Don’t you go a frettin’ yerself about not ridin’ one of them there cantankerous animals.”

The voice startled Jorem and he turned to see Jacobs, one of the guardsmen he saw at training most mornings.  The guardsman was driving the wagon that Jorem was riding in.

“Come tomorrow mornin you’ll see who’s used ta ridin an who’s not. There’ll be a sight a moanin’ an complainin’. You jus wait’n see.”  He continued, “Climb up here.  You might as well see where we’re going instead of sittin’ with the baggage.”

Jorem climbed over the seat and sat down beside the guardsman.  Jacobs reached behind the seat and pulled out a pillow.  Handing it to Jorem the man grinned and winked.  “It’s a long ways we’re travelin’ and a wooden bench gets tiring after a bit.”

Jorem hadn’t noticed before, but Jacobs had a pillow beneath him.  About then their wagon went over a bump in the road that jarred Jorem’s teeth.  “I see what you mean!” Jorem said as he tucked the pillow beneath him.

“Ridin’ a horse ain’t so bad if’n ya do it often enough.  The guard, they spend a good part of their time ridin’ here and there.  You watch, come morning, the guard’ll be up an about their duties.  The Fearsome Fo--” Jacobs stopped himself from finishing.  “I mean them that’s not used to hard ridin’ll be hoblin’ about like a herd of lame mules.”

Jorem smiled at the guards slip.  “I think Fearsome Four fits them quite well, so long as their opponents don’t wield brooms.”

A grin spread across Jacob’s face.  “Now
that
I’d have dearly loved to of seen.”

They rode without talking for a time, the clop clopping of the horse’s hooves on the road and the creaking of the wagon the only sounds as they traveled.  The air was filled with the dust from those riding in front of them.  It was a pleasant day to travel, the heat of summer having passed to the cooler days of autumn.  The leaves on the trees lining the road had already begun to turn to scarlet, flaming orange and bright yellow.

They took occasional breaks in their travel to stretch their legs and care for the horses.  Jorem stayed at the back of the group so as to avoid having to deal with his brothers. The dust from the trail coated everything and everyone, especially those bringing up the rear.  After a short time the dust made it difficult to distinguish one person from another.  After one of the breaks Jacobs turned their sporadic conversation from pleasantries to subjects a bit more serious.

“What you done for Trenton, that was mighty good of you,” Jacobs said in a casual tone of voice.

Jorem couldn’t tell if he was being given a compliment or being tested. So he answered with a question he hoped would change the subject.  “You mean tripping over my own two feet and falling into a pile of rocks?  It was nothing.  Actually, it’s one of the few things I’m really good at.”

Jacobs looked at him intently.  “I’ve not noticed you fallin’ nor stumblin’ about fer some time.”

“Then I suppose I was due for a spill, wouldn’t you?”  Jorem said in almost a challenge.

Still looking at Jorem the guardsman nodded his head.  “Right then.  Yer a fine lad. Even if you are a prince.”

The last he said with a grin on his face.  He motioned to Jorem’s hand and asked, “The new healer take care of that fer ya?”

Jorem glanced at his hand.  “No. Jen, I mean, Healer Trainee Jennifer took care of it for me.”

Jacobs winced.  “I hear she’s none too gentle at her craft.”

Jorem looked back at his hand and concentrated on choosing the right words.  “Her gift comes at a price, that’s true.  What she gives is more than just healing.  It’s more like she understood what was needed to really fix the problem.”  Jorem held his hand up to Jacobs.  “See for yourself.”

Jacobs looked closely at Jorem’s hand. He reached over and ran his fingers over the callused palm and fingers.  The surprise was evident in his face.

“Newly healed skin is always soft and pink.  This looks as if nothing ever happened.  Maybe even better than it was before.”

Turning his attention back to driving the wagon, the guardsman said as if an afterthought, “That’s something to keep in mind.  New healers a bit of a prig if’n ya ask me anyhow.”

Chapter XI

It took Jorem a while to remember where he was the next morning.  The musty smell of the seldom-used tent confused his senses.  When he rolled over he got a sharp reminder that he had been sleeping on a very narrow cot.  It wasn’t a long fall, but it jarred him nonetheless.  His back complained for the jouncing it had taken during yesterday’s ride. As he staggered out of the tent, he reached up and stretched long and hard hoping his bones would settle back in their proper places.  The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, and streamers of light streaked the morning sky.  The smell of green grass and fresh air sent a calm feeling through his entire body.

In the dim light, Jorem could see that the guards had been up for awhile.  Their tents were down and packed away and the aroma of cooking eggs and bacon drifted past.  The smell of food drew Jorem on as no other force could have.  The guardsmen were busily saddling and harnessing the horses.  Few noticed him as he followed his nose to a table filled with food.

There was a thin, wiry man standing by the table.  In one hand he held a large serving spoon, in the other he had a thick cooking pad.  When he turned and saw Jorem he scowled.  “Soldier!” the cook said, “You may be young but if the captain sees you like that you’ll be cleaning privies.  You get yourself cleaned up and get your uniform on.  Pronto!” Jorem was so shocked at the man’s words that he was halfway back to his tent before he realized what had happened.  He laughed at the cook’s mistake but hurried back to his tent anyway.  The smell of food lingered in his mind and added speed to his steps.

The noise he made as he quickly splashed water over his face and donned a fresh set of clothes woke his brothers.  They began moaning and groaning, their complaints becoming more audible by the moment.  As Jorem was stepping out of the tent he turned with mischief in his eyes.  “Food’s on, best hurry if you want some while it’s still hot.”  He dashed clear of the tent to avoid the variety of objects thrown in his direction.

Dashing back to the table of food, Jorem didn’t slow down until he was standing next to the cook.  He closed his eyes and inhaled the rich aroma of the food before him.  Turning, he saw the cook looking at him in confusion. The man began to say something but the words died on his lips.  Jorem could see by the man’s face that he was figuring out who he had just been ordering about.

Before the cook could say anything, Jorem said, “This looks wonderful and it smells even better than it looks.  It must take a lot of work to prepare such a meal while traveling.”

“Yes, well, ah” the man stammered.  “With the King and the royal family, I didn’t realize that you”

Before he could continue, Jorem interrupted.  “I must apologize for my appearance earlier.  Sometimes my stomach overrules my mind.  May I have something to eat now?”

“Of course, of course,” the cook said.

The cook snatched up a plate and quickly piled it with food.  When he handed the plate to Jorem there was far more food on it than he would be able to eat.  Jorem took the plate of food and was thanking the cook when the captain of the guard walked up.