Gail Martin - The Sworn

Carina muttered curses under her breath as her hands glided over the gaping wound in the man’s belly, pushing his entrails back into place. The dark ichor that replaced blood for vayash moru covered her hands.

“Use this,” Sakwi said, creating an elixir from herbs he took from pouches on his belt, mixed with a sharp-smelling liquid from a flask he pulled from one of the pockets of his robe. “If they’ve poisoned the wounds, it should clean them, and it may lessen the pain.”

The vayash moru groaned as Carina gently touched the wound. He looked to be in his early twenties, and Carina guessed that he had been undead less than fifty years to be captured so easily. A faint blue glow formed beneath her hands as Carina’s healing magic began to work, cleansing the wound and supporting the vayash moru ’s own regenerative powers, helping him heal more quickly. After a few moments, the gut wound had closed, and Carina could see that the other gashes that had marred the man’s arms and torso had begun to heal.

The vayash moru grasped her hand feebly. “Thank you,” he managed. Carina nodded, and signaled to a servant who brought a flask of goat’s blood and a goblet, pouring a drink and holding it for the weakened vayash moru.

“What’s your name?”

“Deinol.”

“How were you captured, Deinol?” Carina asked as she and Sakwi gathered their supplies.

Deinol took a long sip of the blood and closed his eyes. “I was betrayed by family. My wife and children kept my secret, and I remained with them until they died. But my granddaughter’s husband saw a chance to advance himself by courting the favor of the magistrate. He must have alerted the Durim.”

“When you’re ready to travel, Lord Gabriel’s people will help you find a safe day crypt.”

Deinol met her eyes. “I want to fight. I want to join Lord Vahanian’s militia, if he’ll have me. There are more out there, like the ones who captured me. I want to stop them.”

Carina nodded. “I’m sure Jonmarc will be glad for the help. Now, rest.”

Sakwi was already treating the next patient, a vyrkin whose front leg had nearly been severed by a vicious ax blow. But before Carina could kneel beside him, she heard a shout.

“Carina, I need help!”

An auburn-haired girl in her middle teens knelt next to an injured vyrkin in human form. The man had begun to convulse, his body rigid and shaking, eyes wide and staring. Carina and Sakwi hurried to help as the girl skillfully maneuvered a rag between the man’s teeth.

“Berry, I need some herbs from my storeroom-valerian and withania, along with red wine. Will you-”

But before Carina could finish the request, Berry was already gone. Sakwi placed a jade disk in one of the man’s hands and a disk of emerald in the other, and began chanting to ground the convulsion. Berry returned within a few minutes with the needed ingredients, and as Berry and Sakwi held the man in place, Carina mixed an elixir and removed the cloth from between the man’s teeth so she could drip the mixture into his mouth. Then, Carina placed her right hand on the top of the man’s head and her left hand over his heart, focusing her healing magic until a faint, blue glow created a nimbus beneath her hands. She willed the humours to sort themselves, separating water, fire, land, and air into their proper courses. As she worked, the man’s tremors gradually lessened until he lay still and sweating.

Carina managed a tired smile as the man groaned and opened his eyes. “You had a nasty blow to the head,” she said as she moved her hands carefully down the injured vyrkin ’s body, watchful for strained and torn muscles from his seizure. “I know vyrkin heal quickly, but you need to make sure you rest or it will cause another fit. You can sleep here without worrying. We’ll watch over you. You’re safe now.”

The vyrkin looked up at her with the clear violet eyes that marked him as a shifter. “Is anywhere safe, m’lady?”

Carina took his hand. “I wish I could answer that,” she said quietly, glancing to Sakwi, who took a carefully wrapped wad of herbs from his belt. Carina showed it to the vyrkin before carefully inserting it into his mouth, behind his back teeth. “Chew on this. It will ease the pain and help you sleep. Berry will stay with you for a few moments to make sure it takes hold.”

Berry looked up at Carina. She was almost fifteen summers old. Her auburn hair was caught back in a simple braid, and she wore a plain linen shift. I wonder how many of the wounded would believe that Princess Berwyn is fetching them water and binding their wounds? Carina thought. Berry’s eyes sparkled with excitement, and Carina knew Berry was thrilled to be part of the action, showing the same reckless courage she had displayed two years before, when Jonmarc had rescued her from slavers. Her father, King Staden of Principality, had sent her to Dark Haven to avoid the plague. Carina doubted he had envisioned that Berry would take such a lively role as Carina’s assistant, but she was glad for Berry’s help and her enthusiasm.

“M’lady, you asked me to give you an update.” Carina turned to find Lisette behind her. Tall and red-haired, Lisette was Laisren’s partner, and though she appeared to be in her early twenties, Carina knew that Lisette was over two hundred years old. Originally assigned to be Carina’s lady-in-waiting, Lisette and Carina had become fast friends and Lisette was one of several vayash moru Carina had trained to help her with healing both mortals and the undead.

Carina took a deep breath and stretched, hoping to ease the stiff muscles in her back. “I hope it’s good news.”

Lisette smiled. Vayash moru didn’t tire as quickly as mortals, and with the constant influx of new patients to be cared for, Carina was thankful for the stamina of her undead helpers. “As good as this day gets, I suppose. Sister Taru and her assistant made one pass through the upper floors, and they’ve put to rights those with minor ailments. Those who’ve been healed well enough to leave have gone home, to make room for the ones waiting in the bailey to be seen. Taru’s assigned three mortals-a hedge witch, Sister Glenice, and one of the village women-to watch over the patients on the upper floors during the day so we can take our rest.”

“Has Neirin started the shelters yet?” Neirin, Jonmarc’s grounds manager, had promised to build large canvas structures in the bailey to house those who had yet to find a safe place to stay once their healing was complete.

Lisette nodded. “He’s got crews working day and night-mortal and vayash moru. It should be ready by tomorrow night.”

“Sweet Chenne, how did the world come apart at the seams like this?” Carina murmured tiredly, looking out over the room full of injured vayash moru and vyrkin.

“As it always does, one crazy person at a time.”

Carina jumped at the voice behind her and turned. A man she didn’t recognize smiled and extended his hand. “I’m Sior.” Sior looked to be in his thirties, with a close-trimmed beard and rich brown hair flecked with gray. His violet eyes revealed him as vyrkin, but there was something familiar in his face that made Carina pause. “I was a packmate of Yestin’s.”

Carina caught her breath. “That accounts for the resemblance. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Sior inclined his head. “He died bravely, in battle, defending his friends. There are worse ways to go.” He looked out across the rows of patients and his eyes darkened. “Lord Jonmarc sent me to let you know that I’ve rallied the packs and brought as many as can be spared from guarding our dens. We’ve pledged our service to fight or assist in any way necessary. I was told that we could be of most help here.”

Carina smiled tiredly. “Thank the Lady! We can use help here, with the vyrkin and vayash moru. I’d be especially grateful for a translator-we’ve got a few who were too badly injured to shift and I want them to know they’re safe before I start working on them, so I don’t lose a hand. If your people can help here, I can send the mortal workers upstairs to help the day shift.”