Lord of the White Hell Book One lotwh-1 (8 page)

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anic bolted through Kiram, scattering his thoughts in a dozen different directions. A stream of blood still trickled down from Javier's wrist. Kiram had no idea what to do.

Only the memory of his physician uncle's battlefield stories gave Kiram any direction. He whipped off his jacket and dropped down beside Javier. As he wrapped the sleeve of his jacket around Javier's arm he noticed that there were already bandages swathing his wrist. Javier's dark red blood soaked through them.

Kiram knotted the sleeve of his jacket just above Javier's elbow and twisted it tight to form a tourniquet. He should have used some kind of stick to twist the knot even tighter. Kiram was sure his uncle had mentioned using a stick, but Kiram didn't dare let go of the jacket now. He held the thin cloth in place, applying pressure to the wound.

His uncle always said to apply pressure. Kiram wracked his memory for anything else. Raise the limb above the body; slow the flow of blood from the heart to the wound. Kiram lifted Javier's limp arm up onto his lap.

This was what his uncle would have done, wasn't it? Kiram couldn't remember his uncle ever saying he'd used a jacket sleeve for a tourniquet.

Nor had he ever mentioned how hot fresh blood felt or how pungent it smelled. He had not told Kiram that a man's mouth could turn ice blue from blood loss or that his taut muscles would loosen and hang like slabs of cold meat. Javier's chest didn't rise or fall.

Kiram felt suddenly, sickeningly sure that Javier was dead. Something between a wail and a sob clenched Kiram's throat but he couldn't get the sound out. He couldn't even pull in a breath. Every muscle of his body seemed to clench and shake.

Then Javier opened his eyes. He looked at Kiram and forced a slow smile, as if his own death were a joke.

"Well, if it isn't Kiram Kir-Zaki. What are you doing here?"

"I came to find you." Kiram could barely gather his thoughts to speak. He was relieved that Javier was alive but almost unable to credit it. "Ybu were-you looked like you were dead."

"Yfes, I do that from time to time." Javier's laugh emerged as a dry rasp. He closed his eyes and, as if it took all his concentration, drew in a slow breath.

Faint color returned to Javier's lips, though his skin still felt cold. A living tension slowly spread through the muscles of Javier's body.

Blood clung to Kiram's fingers like hide-glue. He tried to wipe his hands on his pants but they wouldn't come clean. "There's so much blood."

"Muerate poison keeps wounds open. It can be a little messy."

"You weren't moving." Kiram found the quaver in his own voice disturbing. He shouldn't have been this upset. Javier was alive and he seemed to be recovering his strength. But the thought of his death, the sensation of his limp body, and heat of his blood had been burned into Kiram's mind. Never in his life had he been so close to someone dying. It had seemed so immense and terrible and he had been so utterly helpless to stop it. Now he couldn't believe that Javier was alive, staring up at him and carrying on a conversation as if this were a trivial matter.

"I think Scholar Donamillo must have administered a little too much of the poison before Holy Father Habalan bled me." Javier sounded disinterested. "I can't feel my left hand."

"I tied a tourniquet around your elbow to slow the bleeding," Kiram said. For the first time he noticed little tremors moving beneath the blood-soaked bandages. Then he saw a tiny white spark skip over the mass of cloth.

"Take it off, will you? I don't think it's doing any good now." Javier tried to sit up but then slumped back down against Kiram's thighs, muttering, "Damn."

Kiram worked the knots loose and slowly unwrapped his jacket from around Javier's elbow. He watched Javier's wrist closely, fearing a sudden gush of blood. Instead more white sparks danced through the bandages. Javier's fingers twitched minutely.

"You're not supposed to be on chapel grounds," Javier said as if he had just realized where they were.

"No one said anything about the grounds, just the chapel." Kiram folded his jacket, to hide the bloody sleeve. His hands still trembled. He wished he could make them stop.

"I'm not certain that the holy father would be sympathetic to that argument. And honestly, as exciting as this illicit meeting in the garden is, I think it might be getting a little late." Javier frowned up through the branches of the pear tree at the darkening sky. "We should get back to the dormitory."

"You need to see a physician. Scholar Donamillo-"

Javier shook his head. "Scholar Donamillo is hardly as entertaining as you are."

"Entertaining?" The word was an utter anathema to everything that Kiram felt. "I thought you were dying."

"Really?" Javier gave Kiram one of his sensual, mocking smiles. "Were you scared for me?"

"Of course I was, you ferret-faced moron!"

"Ferret-faced? Such harsh language on holy ground, Kiram."

"How can you laugh?" Kiram hissed. "I thought you were going to die. I was terrified for you and you-you're just an utter pig."

Kiram was horrified to feel tears welling up in his eyes. His vision blurred. He stood quickly and turned his back so that Javier would not see.

"Kiram," Javier said gently, as if he were addressing a child. "I'm sorry."

"No, you aren't." Kiram wiped his face angrily. "You're amused. You think it's all just some huge joke. But it's not. You were ice cold and there was so much blood and I-I really thought-I-" Kiram hated the way his voice broke. He sucked in a deep breath of air and refused to look at Javier. He didn't think he could bear the sight of another of his satirical grins.

"Obviously you're just fine now." Kiram kept his tone as cold as he could. "So I'll be going."

"Don't," Javier said, but Kiram didn't stop. He stormed through the trees as if he didn't care who saw him. He wouldn't let Javier laugh at him creeping from shadow to shadow.

The sweet scent of night jasmine floated over Kiram as he followed the winding path through the grounds. The air felt thick, like it might rain soon. Deep shadows filled the overhanging branches of fruit trees but thin rays of light still shone through the wrought iron bars of the gate. Kiram pulled it open.

"Kiram, damn it, slow down!" Javier's voice was closer than Kiram expected and far more strained. Despite himself, Kiram turned back.

Javier stood a few feet away, leaning heavily against the thin trunk of a plum tree. His breathing came in slow deep gasps. A sheen of sweat covered his face.

"You left your coat." Javier gripped the stained blue jacket in his right hand.

"I can't believe you." Kiram returned to Javier. "You can barely walk."

"I could manage a hell of a crawl, though." Javier closed his eyes and bowed his head back against the smooth trunk of the tree. "Will you just put up with me, Kiram? I need your help."

"You're an ass," Kiram said, but he couldn't summon any real anger. Javier already had his sympathy. It embarrassed Kiram to be so easily won back. "Fine, but I'm just repaying you for what you did yesterday."

He ducked under Javier's right arm, taking half of his weight. Javier leaned against him. The scent of blood overpowered the jasmine in the air. He wrapped his arm around Javier's waist and helped him out through the gate.

"I'm taking you to the infirmary," Kiram said flatly.

"Please don't," Javier whispered, and there was nothing seductive or laughing in his tone. He sounded so desolate that it reminded Kiram of Fedeles. "I don't think I could endure Scholar Donamillo tinkering with me like I'm one of his mechanisms. Not today." He bowed his head against Kiram's neck.

"You need a physician."

"I don't, I swear. I've done this a thousand times. I just need time. The white hell will heal me." Javier straightened a little as if to prove that he was already recovering. Kiram could feel the strain trembling through Javier's muscles.

"Fine, we'll go to our room. But if you haven't recovered your strength by the time the warden calls last roll I'm going to summon Scholar Donamillo up to see you."

Through the twilight Kiram picked out the distant shapes of several students lounging in front of the dormitory. Farther across the grounds he thought he could see the shadows of riders returning to the stables. He thought he recognized Elezar among them.

At the sight of the riders, Javier changed course, so that he was facing into the deep shadows of the school orchards. "We can circle around to the back of the dormitory. There's a pulley lift near the scullery. We can use it to get up to the tower rooms without climbing the stairs."

"Why don't I just go get Elezar?" Kiram suggested.

"No." Javier shook his head. "I don't want the other students to see me like this. Not even Elezar."

Kiram studied the footpath that skirted the perimeter of the orchard and then disappeared behind the dormitory. Remnants of an old wall jutted up in places and Kiram supposed Javier could rest against one of them if he needed to.

Kiram took as much of Javier's weight as he could and they walked slowly. Kiram heard calls echoing through the trees and Javier told him it was a red owl calling for its mate.

As they moved on, Kiram felt heat returning to Javier's body. By the time they had reached the cider shed, Javier was standing straight and moving easily. He kept his arm wrapped around Kiram, and Kiram held his waist, feeling the muscles of his hips flex and relax beneath his fingers.

"So what kind of bow do you use?" Javier's tone was unconcerned and Kiram thought that the question had probably been chosen simply for the sake of conversation. It still surprised Kiram slightly, if only because it seemed like days since he had told Javier that he practiced archery.

"My favorite is a short compound bow that my uncle Rafie brought back from the Yuan kingdom."

"Yuan?" Javier's brows lifted. "That's a long way to travel for a bow."

"His partner is a Bahiim." As always Kiram felt a twinge of embarrassment at the disclosure that his uncle's partner was a religious zealot who talked to trees, but then he realized that Javier probably didn't know much, if anything, about the Bahiim. "They traveled a lot when they were both younger. Now they've settled down in Anacleto."

They passed between the shadows of overhanging tree branches and shafts of dull gold sunlight. When the warm light fell across him, Javier's white skin looked as if it had been gilded.

"What kind of business does he do? Your uncle, I mean?"

"He's a physician."

"So, he and his business partner traveled to Yuan just to practice medicine?" Javier raised a black brow; his expression was slightly teasing. "You're sure they weren't smuggling Sueno root?"

"I'm sure." Kiram smiled at the thought of his fastidious uncle Rafie keeping company with smugglers and addicts. He'd be scrubbing them down in hot baths in a matter of minutes. "My grandmother would probably have been happier if Uncle Rafie had chosen to follow a smuggler to Yuan. At least the rest of the family wouldn't have thought she raised a religious fanatic."

"So they went as missionaries?" "Not exactly. They were invited by a merchant's family to lift a curse from the household." Kiram sighed, knowing that he would have to explain. "His partner, Alizadeh, is a Bahiim, a priest of the old church. The Bahiim battle curses and put ghosts to rest and I don't know…talk to trees and things like that. My parents think Alizadeh's a lunatic, but he's always been kind to me and he's quite charming."

Javier stared at Kiram as if he couldn't quite put all of Kiram's words together in any way that made sense.

"So, this man, Alizadeh, your uncle's."

"Partner," Kiram provided. It was the word Haldiim always used when speaking in the company of Cadeleonians. It sounded businesslike and Cadeleonians easily accepted two men uniting their houses if it was for the sake of profit.

"His partner," Javier repeated, "is a kind of exorcist?"

Kiram shrugged. "Something like that."

"A Bahiim." Javier seemed to consider this for a few moments, then he asked, "So when he went to Yuan, did he lift the curse?" Javier's casual level of interest seemed to have risen.

"There was none," Kiram replied. "A store of grain had gone foul and mistakenly been used to make a medical poultice. My uncle figured it out, destroyed the poultice, treated the victims, and that was that."

They reached the iron gate enclosing the low beds of the kitchen garden. Javier placed his bloodstained left hand against the lock. Kiram heard a slight crackling noise then the solid clunk of a bolt sliding back.

"You don't believe in curses, do you?" Javier shrugged out of Kiram's grasp and pushed the gate open. Kiram felt strangely aware of where Javier's body had pressed against his own and the absence felt wrong.

"I believe in the possibility of curses," Kiram allowed. "But it seems like there are usually better explanations for why things go wrong."

"Fouled grain or just plain bad luck?"

Kiram nodded cautiously. Something in Javier's tone put him on edge. It was the seriousness of it, Kiram realized.

Javier closed the garden gate behind them and laid his hand up against the lock again. This time Kiram saw white sparks skip from his fingers to the metal.

"It's not as though I don't believe in powers," Kiram said quickly. The last few weeks living with Javier had led him to believe in shajdi powers more than he ever had before. But meeting Javier hadn't stopped Kiram from applying reason. "When it comes to things like curses and deviltry, people make accusations too easily. They use curses to justify their prejudices."

"Are you thinking of King Nazario?" Javier glanced over his shoulder at Kiram. "That was a long time ago."

"It was, but things haven't changed so much. Even now if a Cadeleonian is well connected he can accuse any Haldiim of cursing his fields and have the Haldiim stripped of his property and imprisoned."

The gate locked with another deep click. Javier turned to face Kiram. He looked thoughtful but not offended. "That's true, but these days, even in northern counties, there has to be a trial."