“Perhaps you’d better go inside out of the sun, Father,” Magnes suggested. The rainy season had not quite ended, but already the days waxed warmer as spring took firm hold of the land.
“Ayeesha and I will escort you, Father,” Jouma said, gently taking the old man’s elbow. Together, he and the midwife steered their leader back toward the cool interior of the temple.
After the three had disappeared inside, Magnes turned to Wambo and said, “He grows weaker by the day.”
“Ndoma and I came to Darguinia together,” Wambo replied, voice heavy with sorrow. “So many years have gone by since, so many people have passed through our doors… Some we could heal, others we could not. For those whom our skills were not enough, at the very least, we helped to ease their passage to the other side. Now, the time draws near when I will ease my old friend’s passage and take up his mantle of leadership.”
“Everyone here has complete faith in you, Brother,” Magnes responded with heartfelt sincerity. He recalled the day when he had first arrived at the temple of Eskleipas, his spirit withering beneath the crushing weight of depression born out of guilt. Wambo and his people had offered him a haven, a place where he could, in time, come to terms with what he’d done and perhaps find absolution through helping others. During his time as an Eskleipan Brother, Magnes had managed to ease his tormented soul, and if he did not feel entirely at peace, he felt as near to it as possible.
“I can have the infirmary stocked and ready to roll in two days, three at the most,” he said. “Fadili and I have had time to make plans, so we know exactly what we’ll need. I bought a map of the local area in a shop near the palace, so I think it’s fairly accurate…I’ve marked the outlying villages we’ll stop at. I estimate we’ll be able to stay out two to three weeks at a time.”
Wambo nodded as Magnes spoke, thoughtfully tapping his strong white teeth with the tip of a forefinger.
“Hmm, yes. Excellent. You and Fadili will both be missed, of course, but this is important work! Jouma will have to resume the contract work with the yards. Hmm, we’ll be spread a little thin… Perhaps it’s time for a recruitment drive!” He slapped Magnes on the shoulder and grinned.
Magnes sighed. He felt torn between his desire to admit to Wambo the other use to which he would put the infirmary and his instinct to protect everyone at the temple. He hated the fact that he had to deceive his friend, but in the end, it was far safer that no one else in the temple besides Fadili should know the truth.
He glanced up at the hazy sky. “Speaking of the yards, it’s time I was getting over to de Guera’s. They’ve got at least five matches today, so I’m expecting a lot of injuries.”
The rest of the temple folk had returned to their duties, leaving Magnes and Wambo alone in the sunny courtyard. Magnes started toward the temple pharmacy where he kept his supply bag. Wambo fell in beside him.
“How is your friend the elf doing?” the old man asked.
“He is much better,” Magnes replied. “The elves are a tough race. I don’t know if a human could’ve survived the kind of wound Ashinji did. He is healing remarkably fast.”
“That is good to hear.” Wambo paused for a moment before continuing. “Tilo, when you first came to us, I sensed you were a young man in trouble. I have never asked you to reveal anything about yourself or your past, nor am I asking now.” He halted, and fixed Magnes with a discerning eye. “Whatever the circumstances that brought you to us, I am glad. I am glad that you became our brother.”
Magnes’ breath caught in his throat.
It sounds like Wambo is saying goodbye, as if he somehow knows I intend to leave and won’t be back. But…how could he know?
Until this very moment, in fact, Magnes himself had no idea he wanted to leave Darguinia for good, but now he realized that it had been his intention all along. He shifted nervously from foot to foot. Overhead, doves cooed and rustled in the eaves. A cloud drifted over the face of the sun, plunging the world into cool shadow. The wind began to gust and the smell of rain infused the air.
“I’d better get going,” Magnes said. Wambo nodded and turned to head back the way they’d come. Magnes watched him go, a deceptively fragile old man with a core made of the strongest steel. He would miss Wambo, and all the others at the temple who had come to mean so much to him, but something had changed. It took Wambo’s uncanny perception to bring it to the fore so Magnes would acknowledge it.
The time had come for him to return home to Amsara and face what he’d done. Thessalina deserved to know what had really happened, and Duke Teodorus’ spirit deserved the peace that the telling of the true story of his death would provide.
“Tilo, there you are!” Fadili called out, hurrying over to the pharmacy door where Magnes stood, thinking. “It’s getting late. We should go over to the de Guera yard now. The first matches are nearly over.”
“I was just getting my things,” Magnes replied. Hinges squealed as he pushed open the weathered wood door and stepped inside to retrieve his bag. Re-emerging, he smiled at the younger man and said, “Let’s go.”
“Everything’s ready, my friend,” Magnes said in a low voice.
“I’m ready as well,” Ashinji replied. Fighters, not so injured that they couldn’t walk but requiring Magnes’ services anyway, were trickling into the infirmary. “Let’s go outside,” Ashinji suggested.
Magnes nodded and called to Fadili. The young Eskleipan, who squatted over a female slave’s leg examining a nasty gash, looked up, eyebrows raised. “I’m going outside for a bit. Can you handle things?” Fadili flipped his hand dismissively, as if to say the question need not have been asked.
Magnes chuckled. “Fadili is turning out to be a fine healer. He really doesn’t need my supervision anymore.”
“I can see that,” Ashinji replied.
The two men stepped out of the infirmary into the cool of the blustery afternoon. The wind ruffled Magnes’ brown curls and sent loose tendrils of Ashinji’s blond hair whipping about his angular face.
Ashinji grew stronger with each passing day, but he was still far from total recovery. He tired easily and his wounds continued to give him a great deal of pain. The flight from Darguinia would be very hard on him and Magnes worried the effort might prove too much. Still, what choice did they have?
“Let’s walk over to the women’s barracks. Gran’s waiting,” Ashinji said, his voice catching a little as he spoke. He grimaced and rubbed his side.
“Ashi, we can wait another week if you need to,” Magnes suggested, keenly aware of the pain his friend tried to conceal.
“No, we can’t,” Ashinji replied, shaking his head. “If we wait much longer, it will be too late. Gran tells me she can feel the power of the Nameless One growing swiftly, even this far south. No, we must go now.”
They reached the shelter of the women’s barracks just as the first fat raindrops speckled the sand beneath their feet. Ashinji called out in Siri-dar, and a few moments later, Gran emerged from the dim interior of the long, low building. A frown deepened the creases at the corners of her mouth.
“Something has happened,” she announced. “I felt an unusual surge of energy from the north. It feels as though the Nameless One has broken free somehow, and yet, I still feel the main core of his energy remains below the Black Tower. I don’t understand this and it frightens me.”
“The mobile infirmary will be ready to go in two days. We can leave then,” Magnes said. He looked first at Gran, then Ashinji.
“Would that it could be today…” Gran shook her head in dismay, then sighed. “Very well. Day after tomorrow, then. I’ll inform Aruk-cho.”
“I’ll tell Seijon,” Ashinji said.