Лорел Гамильтон - Strange Candy

I tied the horses up outside, and we entered. The place smelled stale. The windows were open, and the spring wind blew through the place, but it would take weeks for the sourness of winter to be blown away. When my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I saw the place was almost empty.

Only three of the small scarred tables were in use. A group of five farmers sat drinking and laughing. Two men in chain mail sat eating at another table. Their swords were out on the table beside them, sheathed. And a young man dressed all in black sat at the last table near the stairs. A young girl no more than twelve sat with him. Her eyes were downcast, and she was obviously afraid.

Celandine stiffened beside me. She had recognized the robes of a healer, a black healer. The host came over to us, smiling, “And how may I help you this night, travelers?”

“Food, stabling for the horses, and a room for the night.”

“One gold ducat will get you all you desire.” His leer was obvious. I looked blankly at him. He explained patiently, “All our guests have the choice of three fair ladies to keep them company for a time.”

“No, thank you. My wife and I are quite fine, alone.”

He shrugged. “As you wish, but if I were you I’d have my wife pull up her hood. And have her lower her eyes.”

“She is fine as she is.”

He shrugged again. “Just trying to help. The stables are to the lef t. My boy will see to them. When you return, I will have your dinners waiting.”

We went out and led the horses and Ulliam to the stables. They were cramped, and a dirty boy of about ten scuttled up to take the horses. He did not try to take Ulliam, and I did not offer. While he brushed down the horses, I tended the unicorn. The boy was dirty and perhaps not quite bright, but he brushed the horses well, and the feed he gave them was good quality.

We took a small table near the wall so I could watch the room. It was then that I noticed a small demon, barely three feet high, cleaning tables. He balanced the dirty dishes above his head with impossibly long arms. He was a bright green in color and scaled rather than skin-covered. Celandine and I stared after him as he disappeared into the back.

She stared at me, and I shrugged. In the end it would be Celandine who said what the token was and

where it was. My job was just to help her get it.

The little demon also brought our food. Neither of us spoke as it put down bowls of stew, thick slices of brown bread, and tankards of some liquid. He seemed accustomed to silence and raced back through the tables with his empty tray.

The stew was hot, the meat and vegetables a little stringy, but it had been a hard winter. Stores were running low everywhere, but the bread was fresh and good. One of the farmers I had noticed earlier came to stand beside us. He bumped into our table, unsteady on his feet. He smelled of beer. “Is this pretty thing your wife, Varellian?”

“Yes.”

“How much for a night with her?”

I stared at him a moment, not sure I had understood. “I said she is my wife.”

“I heard you. How much for the night?”

“We are new to Lolth and do not understand all the customs. Are you saying that Loltuns sell their wives for money, like whores?”

“You brought her in here, with her face showing. She looked at every man in the place, bold as a basilisk. What else would you be doing but selling?”

I understood the host’s warning now, but it was too late. “We are not Loltun, and I am not selling my wife.”

He scowled at that. “The other three women are busy, and I don’t go near a black healer. I have need of a woman, and she is the only one available.”

“You’ll have to wait then.”

“Loltun men do not wait for women.” He grabbed at Celandine surprisingly fast and jerked her to her feet.

My sword was out before I had time to think. “Let her go, or die.”

The sight of naked steel seemed to catch his attention. He let go of her, and she sank back into her seat. The man stared at the end of my sword, and finally said, “Well, if you don’t want to sell, then have her keep her eyes to herself. You could get a man killed over a misunderstanding like this.”

I said nothing as he shuffled back to his companions. Celandine pulled up her hood without being asked.

I resheathed my sword, and we ate in silence. But there was another scene taking place.

The black healer and his girl were having a fight of sorts. He would touch her and then laugh, and she would scream. And then he would touch her again and laugh. I asked Celandine, “What is he doing?”

She swallowed. “I think he is hurting the girl and then healing her.”

“To what purpose?”

“Many black healers are insane. They pervert their healing power into harm, and it contaminates them.” The girl was pretty. She had long yellow hair and light eyes that I guessed were blue, but couldn’t be sure

at this distance. Her body had just begun to swell to womanhood, but she was still more child than woman. A bleeding scratch appeared on her cheek. He touched it, and the cut vanished.

“How did that cut appear? He didn’t touch her.”

“He is a very powerful black healer. He has a gif tsimilar to sorcery.”

“As you have.”

She nodded. “As I have, but I must not use it again on peril of my soul.”

That was what the quest was all about. The token, whatever it was, would cleanse the healer’s soul of the stain of black healing.

The girl screamed, a full-blown shriek. She stood, knocking her chair backward. Even in the dim light I could see the open sores on her arm.

Celandine started to rise, and I gripped her arm. It was automatic for her to help the sick, but not here. My grip seemed to remind her of her fear, and she sat down.

I had seen this sudden bravery many times. It came from her healing. She was afraid of so many things. But her healing made her different. I had seen her risk death to save a drowning child. Many times she had walked among bandits to heal their sick. It was as if all her strength, all her bravery, went to healing, and there was none left for Celandine herself.

The black healer caught the girl-child. She struggled as he clutched the diseased arm. She broke away from him and stared at the now-healed arm. He laughed.

The host went up to him, and his voice carried in the sudden silence. “Sir, we are honored at your business, but your lady friend is upsetting the other guests. Would it please the most honorable healer if he would take her up to his room?” The man had bowed low but never took his eyes off the healer.

What would the host do if the healer moved to touch him? The healer laughed again. “You should be honored that I come to this piss hole of an inn. I am of the highest rank of healer. I talk to your Gods for you. I face them when you cower in fear.” He was addressing the entire room now. “I hold the power that pacifies the Gods themselves. I consort with the demons of the pit. I do things that would crack your minds like brittle kindling.” And he walked over to the now-quiet farmers. “But you turn away from me when I show power. Oh, heal me, please, heal me. But then leave us alone. That’s how it is.”

He went back to the girl, and she backed away crying. She begged him, “Please, let me go, please.”

“Come, girl, it is time someone here learned what it is to embrace a black healer.” She screamed as he grabbed her. He pulled her toward the stairs. Her hand gripped the banister, and he tugged her. Her fingers slipped, and he grabbed her close to his body. He carried her like that up the stairs and paused at the very top. He yelled at the host, “Which room is mine?”

The host made a half bow and said, “Turn to your right. It is the last door on that side. It is the nicest room in the inn.”