Dennis McKiernan: The Dragonstone

"Aiko, Yngli," she called to the two as the beverage steeped, "ye need both drink a cup of this as well, for I would not have ye come down with fever, drenched as ye were."

Moments passed and moments more as the benefit of the petals infused throughout the hot melt. Finally Arin dipped up a spoonful of the steaming liquid and blew on it and then tasted it. With a nod, the Dylvana filled a cup and motioned Aiko to do likewise and to pour one for Yngli too. As Aiko complied, Arin stepped upon the crate to stand at Egil's side. She waited long moments for the steaming tea to cool down, testing it now and again. Finally, slowly and carefully, a bit at a time, she began spooning small sips of the clear liquid into Egil's mouth as he reflexively swallowed. After a while she gave over the task to Thar.

Arin turned to Orri. "Captain."

"Lady."

"The wounds of thine other men-"

"Ar, nothin' as bad as Egil's, them what wasn't killed outright. We patched up most aboard."

Thar looked up from his task. "Ye've done enough, Lady. I'll see to their scratches."

Arin smiled at the healer and turned again to Orri. "Is Egil married, betrothed, promised?"

"Ha!" Orri barked a laugh. "Nay, Lady. He be free wi' th' women, and they be free wi' him."

"Then, Captain, when he has had his cup of tea and another, I would have thy men bear him to my quarters at Blackstein Lodge where I may tend him in the days to come."

Orri's eyes widened, but he said, "Aye, Lady."

Arin poured herself a cup of arel tea and then moved to where Aiko sat with Yngli. As the Dylvana took a chair, she said to Aiko, "Egil will be moved to our quarters at Blackstein Lodge."

Aiko's dark eyes betrayed no hint of approval or censure. Instead with a faint nod of her head, Aiko acknowledged Arin's words.

"We cannot afford to lose him," added the Dylvana.

Again Aiko faintly nodded.

Yngli turned to Aiko. "I'd ask ye t' come t' my home, but I think my wife w'd take an axe t' me."

Aiko looked at him impassively, then said, "If I did not take my sword to you first."

Yngli laughed, heartily to begin with but fading to silence as he looked into the warrior woman's eyes. He shuddered, dropping his hands to cover his crotch. "Why, I b'lieve y'would at that." Abruptly, Yngli downed the last of his arel tea, then stood. "As long as Captain Orri's buying, I be thinkin' I'll ha'e me some ale." He turned to Arin. "Thank ye f'r th' tea, Lady."

"I thank thee for thy help, Master Yngli," she replied.

Yngli bowed to them both-"Ladies"-and spun on his heel and shouted, "Hoy, Tryg, set me up a mug o' ale!"

For long moments Arin sipped her tea in silence, then turned to Aiko. But before she could say aught, Thar called, "Lady Arin, Egil's had his two cups o' tea."

Wearily, Arin pressed her fingers to her eyes, then stood. "Captain Orri?"

"Har there, Bili, Svan, Angar, Rolle… take up Egil's litter and bear him t' th' Blackstein, t' Lady Arin's quarters."

"Cover him wi' a cloak or two," added Thar, "it still be rainin' out."

As they carried the unconscious man away, Aiko got to her feet and donned her still wet cloak and said in a low voice, "Then you think, Dara, as do I, that this is the man of your Seeing?"

Arin caught up her own cloak and turned to the warrior. "Art thou forgetting Alos?"

The corners of Aiko's mouth turned down. "Dara, how can you think of Alos when Egil is the one?"

"Alos, too, has but one eye," responded Arin, the Dylvana, looking about. "And speaking of Alos, where has he gotten to?"

They found the scraggly old man lying under a table in the corner, surrounded by empty ale mugs and clutching an empty brandy flagon and sleeping in his own vomit.

Aiko covered her nose in disgust, but with a sigh Arin said, "We must take him, too."

Aiko's eyes widened, then she said, "To the boathouse where he sleeps, neh?"

"Nay, Aiko. To our quarters in the lodge."

Aiko looked down at Alos in disgust. "But, Dara, he is foul, fuketsuna, unclean."

Arin settled her cloak about her shoulders. "Then we will have to bathe him."

"Huah!" Aiko shook her head. "Scour him, you mean. And pumice his teeth and mint his breath and burn his clothes as well."

"Enough, Aiko," admonished Arin. "He has but one eye, and we must discover if he is the one."

"Jikoku," growled Aiko… then sighed. "If it is your will, Dara."

With that, Aiko reached beneath the table and dragged Alos by his ankle out from under, ale cups rattling in his wake, the flagon lost to his grip. Then with a grunt she hefted him up and across her shoulders. And with Orri and his raiders looking on in wonder, she followed Arin across the floor and out into the dank night, a thin thread of vomit-tainted drool dribbling from Alos's slack jaw and leaving a wet trail behind.

It was well past mid of night as Arin sat staring into the flames, trying to ‹see› just who the one-eyed man was, to no avail. Behind her, Egil now slept in the bed, the brandy coursing through his veins keeping him unconscious. From the next room came an agonized howling as Aiko scrubbed the old man, hauling him shrieking from tub to tub as the water in each became too filthy, the lodge boy running back and forth, bearing fresh hot water after dumping the old out through the trough of the bathing room. Perhaps it was this caterwauling which kept the vision from coming-Arin did not know, yet she continued to fix her gaze deep within the fire.

As the lodge boy passed through the room carrying the old man's clothes out to the greatroom hearth to be burned, in through the door came Thar, the healer bearing a bulging leather sack. He momentarily paused and frowned at the ruckus in the next room, then a look of understanding crossed his face. He stepped to the Dylvana's side and raised his voice above the howls and said, "Right, Lady, I ha'e th' herbs and stones and powders ye asked f'r, though th' gettin' o' some o' them were a fair quest i' itself. Ha't' look through all me goods. Ha't' get old Maev up f'r some o' 'em." He set the bag on the small table next to the chifforobe.

From the next room there came a sodden thunk! and the yowling ceased.

"Aiko?" called Arin.

"He tried to get away, Dara, but slipped and hit his head," came the reply.

Arin raised a skeptical eyebrow but did not question Aiko further. Thar pointed to the leather bag. "Ye look at what I ha'e brought and make certain I got all that be needed. I'll go peer at Alos, see if he be truly injured or no. But, Lady Arin, do not start mixing the medicks wi'out me. I c'n use th' knowledge o' th' sleepin' draught t' aid them what need such."

"A sleeping draught and a potion to ease pain, Thar. I shall show thee the making of each."

Thar bobbed his head and then stepped into the next room as Arin began laying out the contents of the bag: harf root, laka reed, soda stone, oil of cod…

The lodge boy came back through carrying a fresh pail of steaming water. Moments later he stood shuffling from foot to foot at Arin's side. "Beggin' y'r pardon, Lady, but"-he swallowed- "she wants th' chewin' stick, th' p-p-pumice, 'n' th' mint leaves, er, 'right now,' she said, she did, Lady, beggin' y'r pardon."

Arin unloaded the rest of the bag and found the requested items and gave them to the lad.

Back to the other room he sped as Thar returned. "Alos, he be no th' worse f'r th' havin' o' a knot on top o' his head, though how it came about from a slip, I nae c'd say."

Arin sighed and cast a glance toward the room where Aiko could be heard muttering words in her native tongue. As the Dylvana turned her attention back to the goods on the table, soft moans from Alos began as well.

"This is the way of a sleeping draught, Thar," began Arin.