The Master stopped his chanting and probing. “Notice,” he said, “how the edges of the wound are red. Are your hands clean? Then touch, here.”
Savn did so, tentatively. The wound seemed even warmer than Vlad’s forehead. “Sometimes,” said Master Wag, “it is possible to find the cause, the vehicle on which the Imps rode into the body. This time we were able to.”
“What?” said Savn.
“See, on the end of the probe?”
“What is it?”
“I believe it is a piece of his clothing, which was driven into the wound.”
“Clothing?”
“We wear clothing, why cannot the Imps? When a piece of cloth enters the body, it is almost certain that the spirits are riding it to a new home. It is our task to expel them. Thus I poured onto the wound the purest water I could find, mixed with laith, which demons hate, and blowfiower leaves which purify. And through his mouth we give him dreamgrass to help him sleep, and prairiesong which cools the soul.”
“I see.”
“Now I push—here—and we expel the Imps. You see how thick and grey is the solution? That is the grey of death. Necromancers are known to use it for evil purposes, so we catch it on a cloth, which we will then burn thoroughly. Here. Set it aside for now, until we have the chance to build a fire. Hand me a clean cloth.”
Savn did these things. Master Wag’s mention of necromancers made him think of His Lordship, but he put the thought out of his head, telling himself sternly to concentrate on the task at hand. As he was reaching for the clean cloth, both jhereg suddenly rose as one, stared down the cave, and hissed.
Savn looked but didn’t see anything. “Who’s there?” he said.
The answer seemed to come from a long distance away, and it was full of echoes. “Savn? Where are you?”
The Master looked at him, his eyebrows raised.
Savn got one of the torches and began walking down back through the cave, the jhereg, still hissing, at his heels. “No,” he told them, “it’s all right.” He wasn’t certain if they believed him; at any rate, they continued hissing.
He found Polyi about fifty feet away, apparently caught between several diverging paths. “What are you doing here?”
“Following you,” she said.
“Why?”
“To see what—Eek!”
“It’s all right,” said Savn. “They won’t hurt you.” He hoped he was right.
“Are those the same—”
Steven Bmst
“Never mind that. Come with me. We’re trying to heal the Easterner.”
“I know. I saw you.”
The jhereg watched Polyi suspiciously, but didn’t seem inclined to attack her. Savn led the way back to where Master Wag was tending Vlad.
“It’s my sister,” he said.
The Master grunted, then said, “Get back to work.”
Polyi didn’t speak.
Savn knelt down and touched Vlad’s forehead, which was still warm, as well as wet with perspiration.
“Bathe his head,” said Master Wag. “And I will teach you the spells. We will recite them together, and we will wait.”
“Savn—” said Polyi.
“Not now,” said Savn.
Less than an hour later, Master Wag touched Vlad’s forehead and said, “His fever has broken. We must let him sleep now.”
“My throat is sore,” said Savn.
“You must practice chanting,” said Master Wag. “Sometimes you will spend hour after hour doing nothing but sitting and reciting the spells. Your Easterner friend is lucky.”
Savn nodded. “How long will he sleep?”
“There’s no way to know. Probably a long time. But when he wakes, he will require water and—”
“Murmumph,” said Vlad. His eyes were open, and his expression was intelligent and aware. The two jhereg, forgotten by the side of the cave, began to hop around near his head. Polyi, who had not spoken for the entire time, just watched, her eyes wide and gleaming in the torchlight.
“I can’t understand you,” said Savn to Vlad.
The Easterner opened his mouth, closed it again, and said, “Who?”
“This is Master Wag. He treated your fever.”
“Fever?” His voice was just above a whisper.
“Yes.”
Vlad glanced quickly at the jhereg and at Polyi, then nodded to Savn.
Master Wag said, “Would you like water? Food?”
“Yes,” said Vlad. “And yes.”
The Master nodded to Savn, who helped Vlad drink from the wineskin. “Do you have food?”
“Yes. I have some bread, and cheese, and spring onions, and beets, and a few seasonings.”
“Help me sit up,” said Vlad. Savn looked at Polyi. She hesitated, then helped Savn assist Vlad. It seemed to be quite an effort for the Easterner, but at last he was in a sitting position, his back very straight. He took slow, deep breaths. Something about the flickering of the torches made his face seem even more gaunt than usual. “More water,” he said.
Savn helped him drink.
“Back down,” said Vlad.
Savn and Polyi helped Vlad lower himself, and when he was flat once more, his breathing was labored. He shut his eyes, and in a few minutes his chest rose and fell normally. Savn became aware for the first time of the smell of Vlad’s sweat—very much like the smell of a human who had been working hard or was ill.
About the time Savn had decided that Vlad had fallen asleep, the Easterner opened his eyes again and said, “Food?”
Polyi said, “Where—?”
“I’ll get it,” said Savn.
He found the sack and rummaged around in it until he found the food. As he tore off a piece of bread, he noticed that his hand was trembling. “What should I give him?” he asked the Master.
“The bread is fine, and perhaps some cheese.”
“Put a spring onion on it,” said Vlad, “and whatever herbs you have.”
Savn did so, and then frowned. “Is it all right?” he asked Master Wag.
“Yes,” said the Master. “You may season the cheese. You must not put another scallion on it.”
Savn held Vlad’s head. Vlad managed a couple of laborious bites before he shook his head and asked for water. Savn supplied it, and Vlad leaned back once more, and this time he did fall asleep. While he slept, Savn tried a bite. Not bad, he decided. He offered some to his sister, who declined with a quick shake of her head.
“He’ll sleep for a while now,” said Master Wag. “Let’s start a fire.”
“Is it safe to leave him here?”
“Probably. But if your sister wants to help you find wood, I can watch him.”
“Would you like to help, Polyi?”
“All right,” she said in a small voice.
They took one of the torches and made their way out to the woods. “Savn,” said Polyi when they were alone. “What is—?”
“Why did you follow us?”
“I thought you’d know where he was.”
“Well, you were right. Now what? Are you going to tell Speaker where we are?”
“I don’t know.”
They gathered sticks and fagots from the thinly wooded area above the caves. “Why are you helping him?” she said.
“Because he’s my friend, and because everyone else is after him, and he didn’t do anything.”
“Didn’t do anything? You saw Reins.”
“What makes you think he killed Reins?”
“What makes you think he didn’t? And what about all those men of His Lordship’s?”
“They attacked him.”
“Well, but what’s he doing here, anyway? Who is he?”
Savn remembered some of the things Vlad had uttered while feverish, and didn’t answer.
They brought the wood back into the cave. “Where shall we put the fire?” asked Savn.
“Over here,” said the Master. “Even though his fever is broken, we don’t want him getting too warm. Burn the cloth, keep the fire going, and I’ll return tomorrow. You should sleep, too.”
Savn nodded. The three of them built the fire together, after making certain there was enough of a draft to carry the smoke out of the cave.