Unguilded (6 page)

“You put this on the wound,” she said. She placed half of the garlic, flat side down, on her wound. She sucked in a breath. “It stings, but the garlic will stop the infection.”

“So I’ll need to make sure Zayeera’s tied up tight.”

“Yes,” Kara agreed. She could keep up the pretense that this would only be used for the burro too, if that’s what Mika Gianetta wanted.

“Every half hour I will cut a thin slice from the garlic. I’ll put the fresh end on the wound until this half of the garlic is gone.” She adjusted the garlic on her wound so it would stay there. With her left hand she sorted through the contents of the bundle. There. She lifted out some dried basil.

“The other half of the garlic will need to be crushed.” She looked over at Mika. “I may need your help with that. Once the water is boiled, I’ll steep a handful of basil leaves with the crushed garlic. Once that cools, I’ll use some of the water for a compress on the wound. The rest I’ll drink.”

“That sounds easy enough,” Mika said and nodded.

“Yes,” Kara replied bitterly. “It’s not as though it’s magic.” And then she realized what she’d said, what that small statement told her companion about herself. She looked over at Mika, who had a thoughtful look on his face.

“But there’s many who’d like us to think so,” he said. “To their shame, I’m thinking. To my mind this simple procedure could save . . . burros a lot of pain and suffering. Save lives, even.”

“That’s true.” In her old life, Kara had never thought of it that way—that Mage Guild hoarded these basic cures despite the suffering it caused. The most powerful ways to heal required magic, but there were also a lot of simple poultices and salves that took nothing more than knowledge. She’d always assumed that anyone could access a Mage Healer—in the last few days she’d found out how wrong she’d been.

She tamped the garlic down on her finger. It stung as the wound oozed again. Mika busied himself with his wagon, pulling out a hook to lift the pot along with an oiled bag and a folded piece of cloth.

“Here.”

Kara started and opened her eyes. Mika had placed a flat, wet stone down on the ground in front of her.

She must have dozed off. Even though Mika was a stranger and she had powerful people trying to find her, she’d been too drained to stay awake. But if he really was a simple traveler, then she had nothing of value to him except for her knowledge.

“I’ll get the pot.” He turned and went over to the fire. Using the hook, he carefully snagged the wire handle of the pot and pulled it out of the fire. The rock hissed when he set the pot down on it.

Mika sat down beside her. “I expect this is cleaner than anything you got.” He handed her the cloth.

Gratefully, Kara took it and unfolded it. She let the garlic drop off her hand and dipped a corner of the cloth into the water. Gritting her teeth, she dabbed her wound. Blood and pus seeped onto the cloth. She dipped a fresh corner into the pot and then placed it on her wound, holding it in place with her left hand.

“All right,” Kara said. “Now I’ll add the basil.” She held the basil leaves over the pot and crushed them, one handed. “You can mash up the garlic and put it in as well. Use the flat of a knife and a small rock,” she instructed when Mika hesitated.

Almost immediately the odours of garlic and basil wafted from the pot. Kara found her little knife and sliced the garlic so that there was a fresh end to place on her wound. That done, she leaned against the tree and closed her eyes.

Mika rustled around, but she was simply too weary to be concerned about him. She’d know in a few hours if her treatment had reduced the infection. If it had, then she’d worry about Mika—and what she wanted to do next. And if the infection wasn’t reduced . . . well, Mika would be the least of her problems.

“You look like you could use something to eat,” Mika said.

Kara opened her eyes. He held a chunk of white cheese and some dark bread out to her, and she almost wept at the sight.

“Thank you.” She clumsily grabbed the food with her left hand. “I can pay.” She made herself take a small bite of cheese and chew slowly, savouring the tangy sharpness. “I have guilders.” She had hoped to use them to secure her future—passage on a ship maybe, or to buy a place in a foreign household—but she had to get to Rillidi Port alive.

“Pah. You can’t be going around saying you got guilders,” Mika said. “That’ll get you trouble.” He eyed her. “
More
trouble. Only Guildsmen can use them. Which I think you’re not.”

She ducked her head, not willing to say it out loud to someone she had just met. She bit off a piece of bread. “Is it illegal for non-Guildsmen to buy anything with guilders?” she asked. Had her mother known? If she hadn’t expected Kara to be able to use the guilders, why had she given them to her? Or had she
wanted
Kara to be caught trying to use them?

“Illegal to even have them, though there’s some’ll take a risk.” Mika wiped his hands on his pants. “Not out here though, only in Rillidi. That where you’re headed?”

“Yes,” Kara replied. She didn’t want him to know her plans, but she couldn’t think of another believable destination. Besides—she would only be there long enough to find a ship to take her away from Tregella.

She’d finished eating and had settled against the tree when she had a thought and sat up, scanning the glade. “Did you see a pack?” She wouldn’t have to worry about guilders if she’d lost her pack—she peeked up at Mika—or if it was stolen. Her mother’s jewelry was in the pack. Surely it wasn’t illegal to trade that? Would those two items even be worth enough to buy passage on a ship?

“Zayeera found it.” Mika stood up and walked towards the wagon. He lifted the tarp and pulled her pack out. “Sorry, there’s a bit of burro drool on it.” He dropped it at her side.

“Then it matches me,” Kara said. She opened the pack and closed her hand on the jewelry. Still there—Mika hadn’t stolen it, at least not yet. She pulled out her clean shirt and her father’s cast off trousers—they would be much more practical than a skirt. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Away from the river and just into the trees, she found a private spot and relieved herself before donning the fresh clothing. Her body was still filthy, and her hair was tangled and matted, but eating real food and wearing clean clothes made her feel almost normal.

“You look better already,” Mika said when she returned. He sat down across from her. “Even without this brew.” He gestured to the pot of steeping herbs.

Cautiously she felt the side of the pot. It was cool enough to drink.

“I feel better, thanks.” She sat down again. “Do you have a cup I could borrow? I’m badly prepared for a journey.”

“Sure.” Mika pulled a chipped clay mug from his own pack. “I hardly ever use this, you can keep it.”

“Thank you,” Kara said, grateful that Mika hadn’t commented on her lack of supplies—no food or even a way to carry water. She took the mug and dipped it into the pot—she would keep it, it was far too useful for her to refuse such a generous gift, but she was starting to worry about just how much she owed Mika Gianetta. Besides some healing tricks, how would Mika expect her to pay? Quickly she downed the pungent liquid.

Kara recut the garlic and placed it on her wound. Soon it would be time to apply the compress.

“Burro bite, you said?” Mika asked. He peered at her hand, and she lifted the garlic to show him the weeping wound.

“Yes, and it hurt.”

“They don’t usually bite,” Mika said.

“I thought it was tame,” Kara explained. “It wasn’t afraid of me, and I thought I could catch it and ride it.”

She smiled in embarrassment. Saying it now, like that, it sounded ridiculous. Mika must have thought so too because he whooped with laughter.

“Burros are the most stubborn creatures Gyda put on earth,” he said. “They don’t scare easy, and you can’t make them do anything they don’t want to.”

“I know that now,” Kara said. “Even after one bit me, they weren’t in a hurry. They did finally lead me to a stream, but if I’d been able to clean my finger sooner it might not have become infected.”

“Burros have their good points,” Mika said. He shook his head and leaned back on his hands, his hat tipped forward against the afternoon sun. “But doing anything in a rush isn’t one of them.”

“I can tell you how to make another salve,” Kara said. “Let me know what ails your . . . burro the most. You’ve helped me a great deal, but I don’t want to keep you.”

She turned to look uphill at the pine trees that dotted the slope. She didn’t know if she could trust Mika, but she didn’t want him to leave, didn’t want to be alone again. This trip, going to Rillidi Port to board a ship for another country, seemed foolish now.

“I’d rather strike a different bargain,” Mika said. “I know you’re Mage Guild. Or at least you were.”

Shaken, Kara met Mika’s gaze. “I can’t go back,” she said.

“I won’t hand you over,” Mika said. “I
hate
the guilds, but I can help you—make a trade. But not for healing skills.” He frowned. “I’ll take you to Rillidi Port if you’ll teach me to read and write.”

“Won’t healing be more practical?” Kara asked. “And safer?” Knowing a poultice or two wouldn’t necessarily attract Mage Guild’s wrath, but this? They would definitely kill both of them.

“Or the knowledge I can read in books might save me,” Mika said.

“You have books?”

“I’m a traveler—I’ve come across all sorts of unusual items,” Mika said.

“What you’re asking for is dangerous,” Kara said. “For me to teach and for you to learn. The guilds . . .”

“Guilds!” Mika said. “I told you I hate them. And I’ll risk much in order to gain what they want to keep from me.”

“It’s my risk too,” Kara said.

“Yes,” Mika agreed. “But you already showed me the poultice.”

Kara sighed. That
was
enough for Mage Guild to put her to death—would teaching Mika to read and write make that death any worse? She didn’t trust Mika—but neither could Mika trust her.

“All right,” Kara said. “You take me safely to the port, and I’ll teach you as much as I can while we travel. And you must promise to keep me safe from the guilds.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Mika said. “They don’t like our kind much—unguilded. We keep to ourselves, and for the most part we aren’t bothered.”

“Unguilded,” Kara said. She’d never heard the term. “Were you ever a Guildsman?”

“Me, no. But there’s lots of us who were. Them that have left guilds are more shy about strangers, though.”

“With good reason,” Kara said. The guilds didn’t like losing people. In her case—unless they found out she’d shared Mage Guild secrets—she had enough value that they would probably let her return. For others, it could mean death.

“Then we have a trade,” Mika replied softly. “I’ll take you with me to Rillidi, and you’ll teach me to read and write.”

“And help me stay away from the guilds,” Kara added.

“Yes,” Mika replied. “Although along the way I might have to introduce you to some unguilded.”

She nodded. She would like to meet some who lived outside of the guilds. It gave her hope that she could live that way too. She paused. “Someone very powerful has been looking for me.”

“It’s always dangerous for unguilded,” Mika said slowly. “That’s why I keep to the Mountain Road. Besides, some things are just worth the risk.”

“Yes,” Kara agreed. Running away
had
to be. Mage Guild would have consigned her to a miserable life bearing babies for men she didn’t have the right to refuse. And if none of her children showed magic, she’d have to live with the horror of knowing she’d brought
her
children into the exact same life. She wouldn’t do that. It
would
be better to be dead. And if she was caught teaching Mika, Mage Guild would make sure she was.

“I’ll need some supplies,” she said. “Books, pencils, paper to write on.”

“I think I have what’s needed,” Mika said. “It’s always been a hope, reading and writing.” He looked down at his feet, a blush on his neck. “Sometimes at night I take out a book and pretend I can read it, pretend I know what the words say.”

“Are you sure you want to know the truth?” Kara asked. “The truth can be a lot more ordinary than what we imagine.”

“I want to know,” Mika said fiercely. “I want to know what others have tried to keep from me, ordinary or not.”

Kara nodded. “I’ll start later today.”

ARABELLA SMOOTHED A
hand along her hair and smiled at her reflection. It was late morning, and Valerio had just left for his own room.

She dipped a cloth into the basin of water and gently patted her face. There was no need to enhance the blush on her cheeks—Valerio had proven to be quite . . . athletic. She tossed the cloth onto the washstand, placed her hands on her stomach, and whispered a small spell, the warmth from her hands spreading to her belly. She would know in a few days.

She quickly dressed and packed her bag. After a night spent pleasing the Mage Guild Secundus in bed, it would not do to displease him out of it.