The Curse in the Gift (The Last Whisper of the Gods Book 2) (8 page)

“He’s a menace to your rule and to the city’s potential future - a more immediate one than what’s brewing in the Deep South.”

And if I don’t act, I don’t deserve to be king.
Azarak straightened his posture and swept aside the charts he had been studying before Ferguson’s arrival. “Prepare an arrest warrant for Prelate Ferguson.” That would be the easy part. The hard part would be trying to execute it without igniting a civil war.

CHAPTER SEVEN: TWO QUESTIONS

Wakefulness came gradually to Alicia. Once the fever broke after having ravaged her mind and body for two weeks, lucidity was slow to re-assert itself until the afternoon when she opened her eyes and found her thoughts to be clear.

She didn’t recognize her surroundings. She was alone in a windowless, one-room hovel with a hard-packed dirt floor and low ceiling. Aside from the bed in which she rested, the only furnishings were a couple of sturdy chairs and a small writing table. A cheerful blaze in a fireplace provided the room’s light and heat, but imperfect ventilation made the air smoky. Despite the fire, it was chilly; if Alicia took a deep breath and exhaled, she could see the mist. Three layers of heavy blankets trapped her body’s heat under the covers, keeping her warm, although they were rough against her naked skin.

Her memories were so fragmented and unreliable that she couldn’t hazard a guess at her circumstances. Little was clear from her sickness when impressions of real events were entwined with fever-dream visions. One horrific event seemed impossible to dismiss as a conjuration of her illness: Vagrum’s death. His being shot point-blank in the face then toppling lifelessly from the path was an image she couldn’t shake. It was too clear, too precise to be false. And, although she remembered seeing Kara, Rexall, and others she didn’t know hovering during her confinement, Vagrum hadn’t been there. His absence reinforced the reality of that memory. Had he lived, he wouldn’t have left her side; he would be there, watching over her and worrying as had been the case throughout her entire life. One of the two unadorned, functional chairs in the room would be occupied. That both were empty bespoke Vagrum’s fate as forcefully as a grave marker.

So she wept, silently but from the heart, tears leaking from her eyes to run down her cheeks into the folded wool blankets that acted as pillows. Only now, when he was gone, did she fully recognize what an important part of her life he had been. Always there, ever constant, seemingly indestructible and indefatigable, he had been her rock. Even his death had been an act to save her life and give her a chance at more days and nights.

Alicia recognized that Vagrum would have considered his death to be a worthy one. When electing to confront their pursuers, he had understood the likely outcome. He had been as pragmatic a man as had ever lived. Weakened by the poisoning from which he had never fully recovered and hampered by treacherous conditions, his chances for survival had been slim. It would have taken a miracle of the gods to save him, and the gods were no more. He had acted to save his mistress and her presence in this bed validated his death. Given an opportunity to choose the means of his passing, Vagrum would have selected something like this. Dying abed of old age would have held no appeal for him. Unfortunately for Alicia, this recognition did little to salve the grief. Dead was dead. With no gods to shepherd souls to another place, it was truly the end. Vagrum was no more. The finality of it forced her to appraise what it meant to exist during a time of divine abandonment.

Once the tears stopped flowing, she tried to sit upright but lacked the strength to do so. She closed her eyes and waited, doing the best she could to sort through the puzzle-like memories she had collected during random moments of consciousness over the past few weeks. Only three things were certain: she was safe, she had survived whatever manner of illness had overcome her in Widow’s Pass, and two of her three companions were with her. 

Alicia had been awake for less than an hour and was on the verge of drifting back to sleep when the door to the hovel opened to admit a familiar figure. Carrying a small bundle of firewood, Kara stepped into the room amidst a flurry of snowflakes and a blast of cold air. It wasn’t until she closed the door behind her and threw back her hood that she noticed Alicia was awake.  She dropped the wood on the floor and rushed to the girl’s bedside to offer an embrace of relief, comfort, and consolation.

“I’m so sorry, My Lady,” Kara said, allowing Alicia to cling to her. The quiet tears Alicia had shed while lying alone became sobs that shook her body. She had never known loss like this. In truth, she had been close to so few people during her lifetime that only a handful mattered enough to hurt by their removal: her father, Vagrum, and Sorial. That was it. Her mother had never been more than a shadow figure.

After Alicia’s tears had dried up, she gently disengaged herself from Kara’s embrace, feeling foolish that she had let herself go to pieces like that. She liked to think of herself as a stronger person. She
needed
to be stronger.

Busying herself with building the fire, a task that was almost therapeutic in its simplicity and familiarity, the older woman gave Alicia a moment to compose herself before pulling up a chair next to the bed.

“It’s good to see you awake and aware,” said Kara. “On more than one occasion, we thought we were going to lose you. Fevers that might easily be shaken off in temperate climates can be fatal when contracted in a place like Widow’s Pass. Even the best healers can’t always save the patient. But your resilience is astounding.”

“Thank your son for that. He’s what keeps me going.”

“You underestimate yourself, I think.”

“How long?” Alicia knew it had been some time. A week, perhaps - maybe longer. To her fevered mind, it seemed like forever.

“It’s been twenty-three days since Vagrum fell.”

Alicia was flabbergasted. Three weeks? How was that possible? She fought down a surge of panic. Too long, too long... The world had moved on while she lay abed. Sorial’s journey, and his life, might be over by now.

As if reading her concern, Kara said, “Widow’s Pass is closed. We were the last ones to use it. There’s no indication Sorial came through before us and he couldn’t have made the passage after us. The snowstorm that nearly trapped us worsened and made travel through the mountains impossible. If he’s to reach the portal, he’ll have to go up the coast north of Earlford. Even if Warburm obtains horses for the party, that will add three to four weeks to the journey. They’re behind us.”

“Where are we? How did I get here?” Those weren’t Alicia’s only questions but they were the most obvious ones.

“Vagrum’s sacrifice allowed us to make it to the other side of the bridge. Because we were exhausted and you’d lost consciousness, we decided to rest. Your condition was bad; neither Rexall or I was sure you would make it to the morning, let alone on an extended trip. Your face was flushed and your skin too warm. We used snow to keep the fever under control, but that has its own dangers.

“I convinced Rexall to stay with you while I rode to Sussaman, the town in which I was raised. When Ferguson established it, he placed it near to the pass to facilitate his frequent trips between the North and the South. I knew that, without mishap, I could return with help by mid-day the next day. Rexall wasn’t enthused about being left as your sole protector, but he recognized your best chance for survival lay in my being able to secure the services of an experienced healer.

“Weather hampered my travel to Sussaman and it was nearly sundown when the rescue party came upon you and Rexall. I feared finding one or both of you dead, but he proved to be more resourceful than I expected. He gathered enough wood to start a respectable fire and did what he could to keep your fever low. You were still unconscious but your breathing was more regular. We placed you on a litter and brought you back to the village.

“You’ve been here since, fighting for your life with the help of teas and poultices prepared by Mezlark, Sussaman’s chief healer. He took immediate charge of your care instead of delegating the responsibility, rarely leaving this room until the fever broke and he was convinced you would beat your illness. Rexall and I and a few others who remember me of old have sat with you as well.

“This is my cabin - the one I left behind when Lamanar and I took Sorial to Vantok. The folk here don’t make an issue of property but they left this place abandoned while maintaining its upkeep. For them - for all of us - there’s something special about this house. It represented the culmination of many years of planning; this is where my children, including Sorial, were conceived and born. In this very bed, in fact.”

“I assume the linens have been changed since then.” The attempt at a joke, feeble though it was, convinced Kara that Alicia’s spirits were beginning to rally.

She responded with a chuckle. “I never actually lived here for an extended period. This was my home only when I was being ‘seeded’, as Ferguson called it, and when the time came to deliver. All the nights I lay with Maraman occurred here, and this is where I brought four children into the world. Two of them are dead and the fates of the others are unknown. We’ll know Sorial’s soon enough, but I’ll probably go to my grave without learning what became of Ariel. At one point, I hoped that if Sorial became a wizard, he might have a way to locate her.”

“So now I’m in the hands of Ferguson’s followers. I guess that means I’ll be escorted back to Vantok as soon as I’m well enough to travel.”

Kara raised an eyebrow. “Only if that’s what you want. The men and women of Sussaman are beholden to Ferguson’s ideals but not to the man, and he hasn’t visited in over a decade. They won’t impede you if you still wish to travel to the portal. And Rexall and I will continue with you. We’ve already discussed this, he and I. We’ll see it through to the end, whatever that end might be. We made a commitment to this trip and you when we departed Vantok.”

Alicia was touched by Kara’s words. Since awakening in these strange surroundings, she had felt in her heart that the journey was ended. Would she be granted a second chance? “What are our options?”

“I wouldn’t advise doing anything for a few days. We’ve been spooning broth into your mouth, but it’s been three weeks since you’ve eaten solid food. I’d guess your body weight is down by twenty percent. You need to regain that before embarking on what could prove to be a physically challenging Winter journey. Even the best roads in the North at this time of the year are difficult and unpleasant. The mud freezes and is blanketed over by snow and ice. On a sunny day, they can be a slippery quagmire. On a cold, stormy day, they can become impassible. 

“Unless you have a burning desire to visit Obis, our path should be east. As we get near to the coast, you can make the decision to head north to the portal or south toward the Earlford passage. You’ll have a few days after we set out before making a final decision.”

“How far to the portal?”

“A little more than a week’s travel on horseback in this weather. But there are no inns along the way. The ‘comforts’ of the South don’t exist up here. We may find a village or two willing to take us in for a night but it will be a rough trip.”

She considered for a moment.
No worse than Widow’s Pass.
There was no turning back now; she needed to stand by the portal and wait for Sorial, even though she was cognizant he might not come. The possibility he had targeted another portal continued to bedevil her. To have made this trip all for naught... But Vagrum had given his life so she could reach the North and she owed him a completion of the journey, however unfulfilling it might be. “Prepare to depart in three days, weather permitting.”

Kara stayed with Alicia for the rest of the day. From time-to-time, she was joined by others, none of whom Alicia recognized. Two came bearing wood to stoke the blaze in the fireplace when it grew dim. Another brought a light meal - clear broth of some sort and a hearty flatbread. Alicia was surprised to discover how famished she was. She ate everything that was offered and secretly wished someone would bring more. A season ago, she would have thought the fare bland and unsatisfying. Now, it seemed like the most wonderful dinner ever. When Kara departed near midnight, she was replaced by Mezlark, the settlement’s principal healer. Although he had seen enough years to have gained silver streaking in his light brown hair, he was younger than Alicia expected - at least a few years her father’s junior. Like most of the inhabitants of Sussaman she had thus far encountered, he dressed in simple, homespun clothing: a robe-like garment with a rope belt at the waist and a pair of trousers. His appearance was as gentle as his manner. He didn’t engage Alicia in lengthy conversation but, every time she looked toward him, he favored her with an encouraging smile. Eventually, his reassuring presence allowed her to drift off to sleep.

The next day, she was sitting up in bed. Her mind was clear and she could feel strength seeping back into her limbs. Outside, it was still snowing; her visitors all stomped their feet to shake snowflakes from their clothing after crossing the threshold. Around midday, Alicia was visited by an elderly man who identified himself as the “First Brother of Sussaman.” Presumably, that meant he was either the leader or the acting leader of the settlement, depending on how Ferguson was viewed. The First Brother’s name was Yuman and he looked to be about twenty years Kara’s senior, meaning he had likely been here during her time living in the village. Although considerably younger than Ferguson, Yuman was among the oldest men Alicia had ever met.

He greeted her warmly with a ready, guileless smile. His demeanor seemed grandfatherly, although Alicia couldn’t say for sure since she had never known her grandparents. “Lady Alicia, welcome to Sussaman. I wish the accommodations were more of the kind you’re accustomed to, but we’re a simple people in a simple land.”