Royal Exile (36 page)

‘The boy doesn’t need to hear any of this, Lily,’ her father warned as he carefully cleaned Gavriel’s wound.

Lily tipped a bitter-smelling liquid into Gavriel’s mouth as she spoke. ‘This will dull the pain,’ she explained. ‘Anyway, father knew more than them about healing and, as he says, his beloved wife was already past help. But the villagers thought he was frightened of the blood price, which had to be drawn from me as I was the cause of her sickness.’

‘Absolute claptrap!’ her father growled as he worked.

Leo smiled in spite of the sad story.

‘After she died,’ Lily continued, threading a needle she had heated in the candle flame, ‘we came here.’

‘And I got leprosy,’ her father finished.

‘As his punishment,’ she said in the same tone, as though mocking him. Then she turned to Leo. ‘And I grew up alone with my grumpy old leper father and learned much about living in a forest. There’s our story, Lewk. How about you?’

Leo hesitated. He wasn’t ready to craft the right sort of lie.

Greven saved him. ‘Right, enough jawing. Start sucking on those leaves, both of you.’

Lily gave Leo a look of disgust. ‘Now the nasty bit. Come on, you don’t get out of it. He’s your brother.’

‘What do I do?’

Greven handed him some silvery green leaves. ‘Chew on these, son, and then spit them into this bowl. These are amazing leaves from the clirren, powerful infection fighters. Once you’ve chewed them into a paste, we need to put as much into the wound as possible, which we’ll also pack with the lichen. In a few hours we can stitch him and then it’s up to his own defences — and he’s got plenty of them, lad.’

‘What about the fever?’ Leo asked, after spitting out the first gob of chewed leaf. ‘That’s awful,’ he added, pulling a face.

Father and daughter smiled. ‘The fever is just the body’s way of showing infection. It will pass once his body starts to fight back. We’re just going to help the fight get started,’ Greven explained.

‘How do you know all this?’ Leo asked, spitting again.

‘Careful, Lewk,’ Lily said, flicking some of his leaf debris from her blouse.

He gave her a look of apology, reddening with embarrassment. He caught himself staring at her breasts, before quickly looking away.

‘He won’t tell anyone,’ she continued, ‘so don’t bother pursuing it.’

‘It’s a gift,’ Greven declared loftily. ‘That’s plenty. Let me have the bowl.’

Leo watched as Greven worked dexterously to push the chewed clirren into the wound. He winced at the way the flap of skin was lifted until the wound bulged with the soggy medicine. ‘Now, the moss,’ Greven said, applying the white lichen.

‘Why has only one side of your face been affected by the leprosy?’ Leo blurted out.

Greven sighed. ‘I’m not sure. I have only seen one other case and the poor man’s whole face had erupted with weeping sores. His lips, nose, and cheekbones all looked as though they had been bubbled over a furnace.’ Leo felt ill, more than able to imagine it from Greven’s description. ‘Mine looks different, and it doesn’t weep. It’s always dry and a bit warm to the touch.’

‘Is it anywhere else on your body?’

‘Just my face for now,’ Greven replied, stretching. ‘Ah, well, we’ve done our best. Now we wait.’

‘A few hours, you said?’ Leo confirmed.

‘That’s right. Why, are you in a hurry?’

Leo had only just begun to think about the fact that they could already be under hunt. If anyone had seen them leaving the palace — although he wasn’t convinced anyone had — the barbarians would know they were in the forest. And of course Al and Jed might help spread the word.

‘Are you worried about those thieves who set upon you?’ Lily asked.

‘Yes, I am.’ Leo leapt upon the easy excuse.

‘We’re well hidden, Lewk,’ she assured. ‘And in case you hadn’t realised it, we travelled at least a mile with Gaven. You won’t be easy to find.’

‘Trackers could find us, though.’

‘Trackers?’ Greven queried. ‘Why on earth would you be considered so important? Have you done something criminal?’

‘No, no, nothing like that. We were, er, just passing through the forest, minding our own business.’

‘Where are you headed?’ Greven asked conversationally but Leo was sharp enough to note the glance between father and daughter.

‘North,’ he said. ‘I don’t know why. Gav said it was best.’

‘North, eh? Bit dangerous for a couple of youngish fellows, don’t you think?’ Greven said, seating himself at the tiny table. ‘How about some food for the boy, Lily. Must be hungry, eh, Lewk?’

Leo nodded. He was starving, to tell the truth.

‘Sit down,’ Lily offered. ‘I’ll get something. I’ve nothing warm, mind.’

‘I wish I could pay you for this. I lost Lily’s hare,’ Leo explained to Greven.

‘Lost it? You set it free!’ she said, scowling.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said again.

Greven smiled, contorting his face horribly on the ravaged side. ‘Do you know the folklore surrounding the hare, Lewk?’

He shook his head as Lily set down a cup of creamy milk. Nodding his thanks, he began to swallow it in greedy gulps. Nothing had ever tasted so good.

‘Well, the hare is associated with the moon. There’s even a series of stars that take their shape and name from the hare.’

Lily hacked off some cheese she’d unwrapped and put it onto a brick of bread. She reached for a jar of preserves. ‘Chutney?’ At Leo’s nod, she raised her eyebrows. ‘Very grown up,’ she murmured. After dolloping some on top of the cheese, she set the delicious looking pile of food before him. ‘Don’t waste a crumb.’

He didn’t intend to and began eating hungrily. ‘It’s a full moon tonight,’ he said to Greven, although with his stuffed mouth it came out as more of a mumble.

The leper seemed to understand all the same. He nodded. ‘The harvest moon, burning brightest of all. Well, as I say, hares and moons share some folklore. Maybe it was a good thing you turned that buck free tonight, Lewk.’

‘I don’t know what struck me. I saw it struggling and I just didn’t want to see it die.’

Greven looked thoughtful. ‘There’s been enough killing in our land. Perhaps it was an omen for you. After the harvest moon comes the hunting moon.’

Leo’s food turned sour in his mouth. He swallowed the final chunk. ‘I think Gav and I should make tracks as soon as he wakes.’

‘Wakes?’ Greven laughed. ‘There will be no waking for him tonight, lad. He may surface but he won’t really be aware of much.’

Leo couldn’t even swallow the rest of the milk now. He imagined what would happen to these good people if Loethar tracked him to this hut. ‘As soon as he wakes we have to leave.’

‘What’s troubling you?’ Lily asked. ‘You can stay here tonight. We won’t cast you out. The hare is forgotten; stop worrying about it.’

‘I can see that something’s amiss here, Lewk,’ Greven added. ‘If hiding is what you’re after, Lily will show you a place you can stash yourself for the night. Fret not, you won’t be discovered, and we won’t disturb you.’

Leo looked at them both. He dared not tell the truth. ‘Thank you.’

Lily looked perplexed. ‘All right. Come with me, then.’ She led him to the back of the hut and moved aside one of the few items of furniture, a small sideboard. Then she easily pulled up a handful of floorboards, revealing a specially excavated area. It smelled musty but looked safe. ‘In there is a crawlspace. Here, take this blanket. It’s mild up here but cool down there, I can assure you.’

‘Why do you have it?’ Leo asked, amazed.

‘Father worries about my living out here with him. He still frets that nasty men might come looking to abuse people, men like that pair you met today.’ She shrugged, embarrassed. ‘He feels better knowing I can hide myself very quickly if need be.’

‘Thanks for everything, Lily.’

She nodded, looking slightly sceptical. ‘Sleep well. Hope you’re not scared of spiders.’ Once Leo had lowered himself, she replaced the boards and he heard her pull the small chest back. He could follow the footsteps of Lily returning to her father and then muffled voices. There was nothing he could do now except wait. And with a full belly on top of being exhausted it didn’t take much to convince Leo to curl up as best he could and sleep.

20

Overhead the sky had paled to a murky charcoal. Glowing slashes of light were scored across the eastern skies; dawn was close. Buffeted by winds coming off the sea, the bird, which had covered much ground during the night, searched for the marker that would prompt it to swoop and soar downwards. The forests were well behind it and it was now into open country, tracing the cliffs. In the distance it spotted a tiny pile of stones and flew faster toward it, hitting its highest speed now despite its fatigue. Once over the stones, it banked skyward and then in a display of acrobatics that would have impressed anyone watching, it twisted mid-air, performing a complex series of barrels before soaring downwards. At the precise moment when it seemed it was going to plunge into the sea it swooped, skimming agilely above the waves. As it reached the beach it slowed and then, spotting what it looked for, it flapped its wings once again, gliding more gently now to land on a low ledge.

Show off
, the man said, lightly disgusted.
Hello, Ravan. You
took your time
.

I have been occupied
, the bird replied,
doing your bidding
.

Well, you’re looking thin. I’ve trapped you some voles. I’ve been
hoping for your return the past moon. Hungry?

Ravenous
.

The man turned, smiled wryly at the jest.
I hate it when you go
silent on me, you know. I miss you
.

You know I must not risk it
.

He sighed.
Yes, indeed. So come on in. Tell me everything
.

The bird hopped heavily behind, following the man into the small hut that was built on the ledge but protected by cliffs that curved around in a natural crescent. Inside it was warm and dry. The dull roar of the waves crashing to shore was a comforting rhythm in the background.

Go feed
, the man said, pointing to the small pit where a pile of freshly killed rodents was heaped. He shut the window against the rattling wind.
And then we can talk
.

While Ravan fed, the man busied himself warming a small pot of water over the fire. He never worried about the smoke being seen. Courtesy of the sea breezes, it seemed to disperse long before it ever reached the cliff’s summit. No, he was well hidden here. Had lived here in this hut he built himself for over two decades now, although he had long ago stopped keeping track of the years, or of his age. He threw some herbs and leaves he had dried himself into the fizzing water and waited patiently while it came back to its gentle boil. After a few minutes, he took it off the flames and set the pot aside for its contents to cool and infuse. Still not looking at the bird, he reached for the honey jar from his meagre supplies and stirred a generous spoon into the mug once he’d added the amber liquid.

Finally Ravan turned from his food.

Better?
the man asked.

Much. How are you anyway?

The usual. Same old aches and pains
.

Ravan hopped closer.
Then you’d better drink more of your
healing tea. It has begun
.

I know, Ravan. I know it has. It began before Loethar conquered
Penraven, before he even invaded the Set
.

I have been away too long
.

The plains are too far for me to expect you to visit often
.

We are much closer now. I can see you regularly
.

Does he suspect?

How can he, Sergius? I am simply Vyk, the sinister, silent raven
.

The man nodded.
Tell me everything you have learned
.

Ravan began to recount everything he had witnessed or heard since he’d last been with his oldest friend.

 In a trice, Lily leapt into bed beside Gavriel.

‘I’m awake,’ he said, noting the sudden fear in her eyes. ‘I can hear them.’

‘You’re my husband Jon,’ she hissed. ‘You got wounded chopping down some branches. You fell, and a sharp stake ripped through your arm. All right?’ He nodded, helplessly held by her gaze. Her skin was creamy, soft against his own. He felt a surge of desire that betrayed him and her instant scowl told him she felt it too.

Dizzy from the pain in his arm and a different sort of ache between his legs, his head felt dull and thick. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Lily. My father is Greven. He’s —’

‘Who lives here?’ bellowed a voice from outside.

Gavriel started, anxiously rubbing his face only to realise he suddenly had a beard.

‘Don’t touch it!’ Lily warned. ‘Who is it?’ she called, but before she could move to the door, it was kicked in and three huge men piled in.

‘What is happening?’ the old man Gavriel hadn’t noticed until now quailed, his voice tremulous. His face hidden behind a hood, he stood, reaching out blindly toward the men.

‘Please!’ Lily screamed. ‘What do you want? My father’s half blind, my husband is hurt.’

‘Out, all of you!’ the leader ordered.

Lily continued a barrage of pathetic complaint. Two of the men hauled Gavriel out of bed but he managed to protect his arm. He felt light-headed and unsteady on his feet but the tatua on the men terrified him more than his discomfort and he gave not a word of complaint. ‘Names?’ the leader said, looking first at the elderly man.

‘I am Greven,’ he said, pushing back his hood. The three intruders stepped back, disgusted. ‘A leper!’ one of them cried.

Greven shrugged humbly. ‘I live here well away from other people, with my daughter, who is also in the early stages of leprosy, and her husband, who is wounded. We’re a sorry lot, I’m afraid.’

‘She’s a leper as well?’ one of the others asked, scowling.

‘Early stages, very contagious. Her sores are angry today,’ Greven said, nodding towards Lily’s bare arms, which bore raised red welts. ‘I would keep your distance. Me, I’m not so infectious any more.’ He sneezed and the men stepped to the side.