The Deadly Magician (The Memory Stones Series Book 2) Page 15

  Theus looked up and saw that her head was reclined back on her pillows, and her eyes were closed, as she relaxed.

  “I was fencing with the officers this morning in the armory, and after this I’ll go to the palace hospice to tend to some burn victims there. And after that, I’ll probably deliver lunch to some meeting,” he summarized.

  “You fence with the officers? The guard officers in the palace?” there was a note of intrigue in the noble woman’s voice.

  “Strictly for their enjoyment,” Theus replied. “They find it amusing that a kitchen slave can handle a sword.”

  “I hope they’re not too rough on you. I can put in a word to order them to leave you alone, if you wish,” she kindly offered.

  “No,” Theus smiled, “we get along pretty well. There’s no need to change anything.”

  “But if you could ask for more money for the hospice,” he suddenly recognized a chance to do something positive, “I could use their money to create more treatments for the patients there, like I’m treating your gout,” he suggested.

  “Well of course. You should be given everything you need to help people feel better. You’re doing a wonderful job for me,” Citrice agreed with a sleepy smile.

  “Your help would be most appreciated, my lady,” he said earnestly, hoping that the noble woman would truly carry out the simple request.

  “You keep massaging my feet like this,” she sighed, “and your hospice will double its budget.”

  Theus added effort to his massaging, and switched back and forth from foot to foot for several more minutes.

  “There,” he stopped his work. “Shall I come back tomorrow?” he asked, hoping to prompt the woman to feel more compelled to carry out her promise of funds for the hospice.

  “Oh yes, of course. Another round of massage, eh, treatment, would be so beneficial,” Citrice immediately agreed.

  Minutes later, Theus and Torella were out of the noble wing of the palace and on their way back to the hospice at last.

  “What does she look like?” Torella asked.

  “She’s an ancient hag,” Theus suddenly knew that he couldn’t tell Torella that the noble lady was an attractive woman, one who most men would find desirable. If he felt a certain, irrational jealousy about Torella, he suspected she felt the same way about him. He didn’t want to feed those feelings in any way.

  “And she says that the hospice will have more money, so that it can pay for more remedies and healing of the patients in the building,” he added. “Let’s hope it’s true.”

  “I hope it’s true that Ruune is recovering from the fire,” Torella responded softly.

  “I think he is. I think there will be a little more recovery every day for a few days. We’ll have to wait to see how far he recovers,” Theus reassured her.

  “I’ll wait out here again,” Torella stopped outside the door of the hospice upon their arrival. “But please call me in to see him if you think it will be the right thing to do.”

  Theus held her hand and squeezed it gently, then went inside. He decided to visit Ruune first, to reduce Torella’s impatient vigil outside the building, if conditions permitted. Ruune was alone in his bed, but he was a different person than Theus had seen before. His ears were nearly completely restored. Hair was growing back in wisps upon his skull, and more of the scarred skin had switched over to become healthy new skin. He had lips, and part of a nose. There were no eyebrows, but the vacant eye sockets seemed whole once more. His missing arm remained missing, without any sign it was returning; that would have been a cure beyond miraculous, Theus thought.

  But the rest of it certainly seemed to qualify as miraculous. It was extraordinary enough that he was sure he needed to bring Torella into the building, and let her see what was happening. The recovery wasn’t at an end after only two days, Theus was sure, so Torella would be able to see that there were better things coming.

  Or, he could not say anything to the girl, and perhaps continue to enjoy more of her attention to himself.

  He gave a sigh, after standing silently for a moment more, then turned and walked back out of the building.

  “Tory,” he said quietly, as she stood leaning against the wall, soaking up the sunshine outside.

  Her eyes flew open, and stared at him, round and wide.

  “I think you should go inside and see Ruune,” he told her. “I think you’ll like the progress he’s making.”

  Her lip trembled slightly, but she remained silent. Then her head bobbed sideways in a slight nod to proceed.

  They entered the building together, holding hands, and turned right, into Ruune’s wing. They went five steps forward, then Theus stopped and released Torella’s hand, and let her slowly walk forward the rest of the way to the bedside. Theus watched as she looked down in silence for a long time, then reached a hand forward to touch Ruune’s shoulder. After that, he turned away, and didn’t see the rest of the reunion. Instead, he crossed the building to go visit Weese.

  “My hero!” the man shouted when Theus came into view. “They tell me they’re going to discharge me in two more days if this healing keeps up,” he told Theus when the healer arrived at the bedside of his patient.

  “Do you think that’ll happen?” he asked Theus. “You’re the miracleworker here; you’d know better than anyone.”

  Theus looked at the expanding patches of pink, healthy skin that had replaced nearly all the scar tissue visible.

  “Do you feel much pain now?” he asked Weese.

  “Hardly anything at all. It goes down by the hour. It’s not like it was when everything was suffering,” he replied. “So what do you think?”

  “I think you can be released tomorrow,” Theus answered.

  Weese sat up straight in his bed, a look of joy on his face, and leaned out to hug Theus with intense happiness. “I never would have believed it! I thought I’d just stay here in pain until I died,” he sobbed into Theus’s shirt.

  “Well, that won’t happen. And maybe we can help a few others in this place leave happily too,” he added, looking around the ward at the other patients. He gently pried himself from Weese, then began to make rounds of the others, asking for symptoms and explanations of their problems. He developed a prognosis for those in who he could identify the problems, and mentally cataloged what he would need to develop a treatment for them all. An hour later, he felt that he could help half the patients in the ward find better health.

  He was pleased with the potential he saw. He’d been there long enough, he decided, and he could plan to come back to work his way through the patients on Ruune’s side of the building the following day. He stopped in the center hallway, and looked into the right side of the building to see Torella still standing next to Ruune’s bed, her hands down low, perhaps holding his in his bed, her head bent low, close to the patient’s.

  He stepped back, then left the hospice, and walked back to the kitchen. It was lunch time, and he was assigned to serve plates of food to the guards in the various guard posts around the perimeter of the palace. He pushed a wheeled cart and made the long circuit, covering a portion of the wall, and handing out meals until he finally met up with another person also making deliveries; the two of them returned to the kitchen together, and each ate one of the leftover meals from their cart as they walked.

  Upon his return to the kitchen, Theus had no further work assignments, so he went back to his counter and began to write out a list of the ingredients he would need to buy to be able to concoct the numerous remedies that were needed for the invalids he had seen in the hospice.

  “He spoke to me,” a voice behind Theus startled him as he focused on writing out his list.

  He whirled about, and found Torella standing behind him, with shining eyes.

  “I understood what he said; I heard his voice and could understand his words. I told him he was healing, and he was going to get better. I told him I loved him still, and he told me he loved me,” the girl told Theus in a voice filled with
emotion.

  “You have made this possible,” she squeezed him tightly in a fervent hug. “You have become the best person in my life, other than Ruune, in just a matter of days! You are the best person ever!”

  He smiled at her emotions, then heard his name called. “Theus! Theus, I need to see you!” Letta was steaming towards him, holding something in her hand.

  Torella released her grip on him and stepped back, as Letta arrived.

  “Shall I leave, my lady?” she asked, looking apprehensively at the chief of the kitchen.

  Letta looked down at the diminutive girl. “Yes, no, it doesn’t matter,” she shifted rapidly through several answers. “No, on second thought, you might be part of this,” she held out the leather ball in her hand. “You two have been thick as thieves the past few days.

  “Theus, this was just delivered to the kitchen,” Letta held the leather object higher and further, pressing it towards Theus’s face. “Smell that,” she demanded.

  He was examining her face closely, trying to discern some clue about her mood and behavior, but finding none. He was worried.

  He leaned forward and gingerly inhaled the fragrance of the leather ball. It was a refreshing, flowery aroma, one that was pleasant and exotic.

  “It smells nice, my lady,” he replied carefully, hoping his answer was correct. He was feeling good about his position among the slaves in the kitchen, and he feared that he had somehow just received blame for something that would upset his situation.

  “Nice? Just nice? Is it familiar?” she asked. “Would you like to examine the ‘nice’ smell?” Letta asked Torella, lowering the leather to the girl’s face.

  Theus watched his friend gingerly inhale. A half smile formed on her face. “It’s very nice, isn’t it?” she asked conversationally.

  “Oh,” she murmured. Her eyes rose to Letta, then shifted to Theus. “It’s the perfume of that noblewoman you visited this morning.”

  Recognition dawned in Theus’s mind, and his nose and his memories were reacquainted. He had known the scent. He had smelled it in Lady Citrice’s bath, and in her room, and on her skin.

  “It is the Lady Citrice,” he agreed, his eyes returning to Letta’s face.

  She shuffled the leather in her hand, then held it over the counter beside Theus, and they all watched and listened as a cascade of bright metal coins fell, striking the counter and bouncing about wildly. Torella instantly fell to her knees and began to trap those that dropped off the counter and hit the floor.

  “There was a note with this interesting delivery,” Letta said. “The note said it was ‘as promised to the kitchen slave whose hands have made life like heaven’,” she recited.

  “What have you been doing with that noble woman?” her voice was tense.

  “I have done only what I am supposed to,” he replied instantly. “I am healing her gout; it’s already healed, I believe, but I agreed to go back tomorrow one more time, in order to,” he paused. He realized what Citrice had done.

  “I asked her if she could help me find the funds to buy the medicines to heal more of the people in the hospice,” Theus explained. “I thought she would just tell someone to give the hospice the money, but I think she must have sent it here. But it’s for the hospice, my lady,” he spoke emphatically, “it’s not for me.

  “I looked at many of the patients in the hospice, and I can heal many of them, I truly believe I can,” he insisted.

  “He can, without a doubt, my lady,” Torella spoke up. “I spoke with Ruune today! He’s coming back to life. He’s regaining,” her voice petered out momentarily. “He has a face again, and it’s getting better. Theus did that! He can do so much! He’s better to have around than a magician, if you ask me,” she spoke in a fervent, but low voice, so as not to be overheard.

  “Shush, child,” Letta reprimanded her. “Ruune is recovering? What of Weese?” she asked Theus.

  “I believe he’ll be discharged from the hospice tomorrow. He’ll be back here in no time to bake again,” he spoke assuredly.

  “Let’s go see this miracle,” she used her hand to sweep the coins back into the leather bag, then took Theus by his arm, and grabbed Torella as well, and began marching through the kitchen.

  “We’ll be back soon. Keep marinating that roast for the royal dinner,” she told the cook as they left the room.

  The three hurried through the palace and back to the hospice in the late afternoon.

  “Let’s go see Weese,” Letta, led them to the left wing of the hospice.

  “My lady! Your young great one is my hero!” Weese spoke as he saw Letta approaching. The heads of the other members of the ward were raised by those who had the strength to raise them, as they watched the small entourage with interest.

  “Look at me, ready to come home,” he announced, sitting up and flinging his sheet off, to reveal the expanse of healing, healthy skin that had replaced his former scar tissue. “And the pain’s gone too,” he assured Letta, then looked at Theus and winked.

  “You’ll want me to bake a cake first thing when I return, to celebrate, of course,” he said solemnly to Letta. “You’re getting your very best baker back, you know!”

  “And not a moment too soon,” Letta said. “Colandra has placed an order for two hundred cakes for delivery the day after tomorrow.”

  “That’s impossible!” Weese cried. “You’re truly blessed to have me back. The youngster must have been the god’s own gift to you.”

  “My lady,” a man in a bed three spots further down the row called out. “Will the great healer be back to heal the rest of us?”

  “He’ll go to the market tomorrow morning, after his chores, and he’ll buy all the goods he can to put your remedies together,” Letta replied, without looking over at Theus even once.

  “You are truly a great friend to all of us,” the patient said gratefully to Letta. “May Maurienne have mercy upon you.”

  “Alright Weese, we’ll see you in the kitchen tomorrow as early as you’re able to get there,” Letta said briskly. “Let’s go see Ruune,” she turned and walked away, Theus and Torella trailing behind.

  “Torella,” she said when the trio reached the center aisle of the building. She handed her leather bag of coins to the girl. “You take Theus out to the markets right now and start buying whatever he needs for these other cures.”

  “It’s late my lady; many of the markets are closed,” Torella objected.

  “I know, but go get as much as you can, and then go out and get more tomorrow morning, after you two make all these appointments that our young phenom has established for himself. Here’s a few coins so you can buy dinner too; don’t spend the Lady’s money on anything for medicines, and don’t come in early if you can buy more,” Letta instructed. “I’ll go visit Ruune myself. I never thought there’d come a day when I’d ever hear his voice again.

  “Now, you two run along,” she gave a gentle push to Theus’s shoulder. “You’ve got work to do,” she added gruffly.

  Theus grasped Torella’s hand in his, and pulled her with him, as they exited the hospice.

  “I thought I was going to get to see Ruune again,” she murmured softly.

  “You will, tomorrow, I’m sure,” Theus assured her, secretly pleased to have her company with him rather than with her revived betrothed. “Let’s hurry to get as much as we can tonight,” he urged. “I might even be able to start mixing some of the remedies tonight, after we return to the palace.”

  Torella led him directly through the palace, cutting the shortest route possible to the palace gates, and they quickly entered the city beyond the imposing walls. They headed towards the nearest market, where Theus launched on a winding, haphazard buying spree.

  “I was writing a list when we left the kitchen, but now I have to try to remember everything from many different remedies,” he explained to Torella, as they repeatedly retraced their steps back and forth to return to vendors for items he had forgotten to buy.

  By
the time the sky was turning purple overhead and the fourth market of their shopping spree was closing down, they were far from the palace gates, and they carried multiple bag of goods. But Theus felt satisfied that they carried suitable supplies to allow him to concoct one or more complete remedies for the patients in the palace hospice.

  “Let’s eat some dinner Theus, I’m famished,” Torella exclaimed, as they passed a posh-looking tavern. “Let’s go in here.”

  “Can we afford it?” he asked in a low voice. He watched a couple enter the building, wearing fur-lined robes and fine silks.

  “Letta gave us a lot of money,” the girl replied. “And we can celebrate Ruune’s recovery. I hear that the wines they serve in these places are much nicer that we would ever receive.”

  “Okay,” Theus agreed. He felt a slight pang of misgiving, but he was happy to have so many ingredients in hand, and he was willing to go along to make Torella happy.

  The first challenge they faced was getting past the doorman. When Torella opened the bag of remaining coins from Lady Citrice and showed them as proof of ability to pay, the man agreed to give them a seat, despite their poor clothing and relatively unkempt appearance.

  “What shall we order?” Torella whispered, as the pair followed a waiter, carrying their bulky bags through the narrow aisles between tables. They were seated at a small table near the kitchen door, against the rear wall of the dining room, then left alone.

  “What should we order in a place like this?” Torella asked with a giggle.

  “We could get something that Letta’s kitchen is good at making, like eggs and hash,” Theus offered helpfully.

  “I know!” Torella ignored his suggestion. “We’ll order a bottle of wine!

  “Waiter, bring us some wine,” she flagged down a passing server.

  The man gave a curt nod and continued on.

  “Let’s have fish,” Torella suggested. “And potatoes, and honey rolls.”

  “Whatever you want,” Theus conceded the decisions to his companion.

  The waiter stopped by and placed a wine bottle and two clear wine glasses on the table.