The Healer’s Story
Selena knelt on the floor, setting out clean rags, a bottle of vinegar, and surgical implements on her bunk. The Aluren adherent lay on the cabin’s other small bunk, watching her with wide eyes and a green tinge to his cheeks. The Black Storm bounced on choppy waves; the lantern hanging from the deckhead swayed back and forth, casting erratic shadows. Timbers creaked with the ship’s every movement, and though he smiled readily, Selena could see Niven’s eyes darting between her and the metal pincers on her tray over and over.
“I am Niven Mattias,” the young man said. “I may have already told you my name. I can’t quite remember; the night has been so eventful. Have I? Told you my name?”
“You have.” Selena said, taking up a cloth. “Try to relax. This will hurt and I’m sorry, but I have to take the ball out before I can close the wound. Talking will help make it more bearable.”
“Will it?” he asked, pleading.
She smiled. “No, but I’ve been saying that for years.”
“So have I.” He laughed and then sucked his teeth as she dabbed his injury. “I was on Isle Joril when I was kidnapped by pirates,” he said through a held breath. He blew air out of puffed cheeks when she removed the cloth. “Kidnapped by pirates. Heh. It sounds like someone else’s life.”
Selena smiled. With his light hair and eyes, Niven could be her younger brother, had she had one. I should have liked to have had a brother. Or family of any kind besides my father. And my mother. She silenced the thought before it could lead to unpleasant memories and focused on her patient.
“I’ve never heard of Isle Joril,” she said. “Where is it? On the Edge?”
“Yes. In the Farendus Isles…the Forgotten Isles, some call it. Since the war I’ve been on the Eastern Edge to help, to heal. There are many living on those islands who are still suffering the war, even after all this time.”
“So I’ve heard,” Selena replied. “But what I hadn’t known was that there were Aluren so far from Western Watch this long after the war. Did the High Reverent—it would have been Coronus back then—did Coronus decree you should do this work?”
“No, I chose for myself to stay. There were a few of us left over from the war, scattered all over. Some chose to return to Watch. Others, like myself, wanted to help.”
“You must have been a child.”
Niven smiled. “I am only a few years younger than you.”
“I was eighteen when I joined the battle,” Selena said.
“And I fifteen. But I am no Paladin, only a Healer.”
“Only? Don’t diminish yourself or the god’s gifts,” Selena said gently. “There is nothing small about bringing relief to those in pain.”
“As you are doing for me,” he said, with a grateful smile. “I’m content with Healing. I’ve never been much of a warrior. Probably hurt myself worse if they gave me a sword.” He laughed weakly and the laugh degenerated into a pained cough.
Selena squeezed his hand. “Why were you out there for so long?”
Niven closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, the sky blue was clouded with memories. “It was near the war’s end when I took passage with an Alliance convoy to the Eastern Edge. You were already at war. The Temple was all but empty. We were the last to Hear the god and join the cause. We were all that was left. And they sent us too, on Alliance brigs. There were ten ships when we sailed the southern route across the Heart Waters. In less than a month, there were three. The Zak’reth were ferocious; it was all we could do to seek asylum on Isle Eleria, also in the Forgotten Isles. In two turns of the moon, those three ships fell too. Defeat was assured. And then…”
“And then Isle Calinda happened,” Selena said.
Niven struggled to lift his head up from the pillow, his eyes shining. “The war ended. Thanks to you.” He gripped her hand in his. “Paladin Koren, I’ve wanted to say…it is a great honor to meet you.”
“An honor?” Selena wrung out the cloth and tossed it on her trunk that served as a table in her small cabin. “Is it an honor to meet the Tainted One?”
Niven sank back. “Is that what they call you? Surely not…”
“You must have heard of what happened to Isle Calinda’s people,” Selena said, more harshly than she intended.
Niven nodded. “Hundreds of innocent lives were lost in the war,” he said. “Thousands. And if the Zak’reth had continued, thousands more would have joined them. The tragedy of Calinda is also its redemption.”
His youthful, open face and how his eyes were filled with warmth for her. His words sounded comforting as well, and had she not worn the wound, perhaps she might have believed them; or at least told herself she could believe them and so find some peace.
“I appreciate that, Niven, but the god did not see it that way.”
“I honor and worship the Shining face for the many blessings it has bestowed on us. But…may it forgive me…” Niven swallowed. “I don’t understand why it would grant you the power of the wave and then punish you after.”
“It’s simple: four hundred innocent lives lost,” Selena said. “And who’s to say that the deaths of thousands of Zak’reth weren’t an abomination in the god’s eyes? They were to me. They weigh heavily on me, every one. No, the god did not err, I did. What happened on Isle Calinda was more tragedy than victory. I know this even if I hadn’t the god’s dark mark to prove it. And I will never summon the seas again. Not ever.” She took up her rag again and smiled tightly. “We were speaking of why you were on the Edge for nearly a decade. Of how the people needed you.”
“Aye,” Niven said. “The war was terrible enough but what came after has been, in some ways, much worse. Villages put to the torch by brigands who rape and steal. Fishing boats stolen by the scores, leaving families with no means to eat, never mind sell their catches. Many good people simply gave up and turned to lawlessness. I suppose they felt that it was easier to take from others what had been stolen from them, rather than start over from nothing.”
Selena nodded. She could imagine burnt out husks of villages, women mourning their dead men, small children wandering empty shores alone. It’s so much worse than we thought. She remembered the Alliance meeting that sent her on this voyage, where they discussed this very thing, safe in the Temple and leagues away.
“I had heard the Bazira have a hand in fomenting unrest.”
“Perhaps. Pain and suffering bring our dark brethren succor, true. What I witnessed wasn’t driven by anything other than hopelessness brought on by the war. I tried to offer the people hope and told them to listen for the god but it was difficult. I was welcomed wherever I went for my healing, but unsuccessful in turning any to the faith. For six years, I sailed from island to island, some hardly more than atolls, healing, day and night. But it seemed no matter how many people I healed, there were twenty more behind, and then pirates or brigands would attack and undo all my work. And there weren’t enough of us Aluren to staunch the blood. So I decided to return to the Moon Temple.” He dropped his gaze. “To be plain, I gave up.”
“You served in desolate conditions for years. Alone,” Selena said. “No one can fault you for being weary.”
“I was. Very weary. And then she came.”
Selena paused in taking up her cloth again. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask who but she knew. “Skye.”
Niven’s eyes were shadowed with all that he had seen but Selena watched a fire kindle behind them.
“Yes. Skye.”
“When?”
“It was two years ago…I don’t even remember the name of the little island. She came and spoke to us, to all the villagers there, promising a new era of peace. Many Aluren accompanied her, converts she had made along her journey.”
Selena stopped. “Many Aluren? How many?”
“There was a hundred with her, at least. And she left a dozen of them with us, with orders to keep doing our good work, and to stay on the Eastern Edge until she returned. And so I did.”
“One hundred Aluren? Are you certain?”
“I saw them myself. A small army of adherents: healers and Paladins both.” Niven shook his head, his eyes wide. “It was…joyous. And a relief to know that are ranks weren’t as thin as we’d feared.”
A relief, Selena thought. The Alliance needs this same ‘relief.’ Celestine, the poor woman, needs this relief.
“When Skye left Lillomet four years ago,” Selena said slowly, “it was without a word to anyone. Not even her husband. It was mere weeks ago, she sent a peliteryx to Celestine, outlining her plans. She said nothing of having Aluren with her. And where are these adherents now? Why hasn’t she sent any back to the Temple? It makes no sense.”
Niven looked uncomfortable. “Is it not good news? It seems that Skye’s plan is pleasing to the Shining face.”
“It is…hopeful,” Selena said. “I just wish Skye was not so reticent about her plans.” She’d almost said secretive, but Niven’s fervor for Skye reminded her of Taliah.
And they are both right to trust her, she chided herself. My bitterness for Skye is rooted in the fact that Skye gave the order that brought me the wound. She could never have known what would happen. How could she?
“Skye has the god’s ear better than any,” Niven said. “I have faith that she will succeed in her endeavor, and when she does, war, strife, even the Bazira…they will all be unpleasant memories of another Age.”
Selena said nothing but poured vinegar into a glass. She dipped her tool—small steel pincers—into the liquid that smelled sharply sour.
“I’m going to pull the ball now. Are you ready?”
Niven braced himself, and said in a whispery voice, “As ready as I’ll ever be. I’m not used to being the patient. I know now why they always looked so scared.”
“Tell me how you ended up in the hold of that ship,” Selena said. “And of the merkind.”
“Of the merkind, I can tell you little,” Niven said. “I heard the battle. It sounded…like something out of a nightmare. The screaming…”
Selena dug the pincers into his side, searching. Niven shuddered and gasped.
“I was in the Forgotten Isles,” he said through clenched teeth, “doing as Skye commanded—maintaining a presence and healing those who needed it.”
Selena twisted the pincers. Niven clutched the bed sheet. He spoke quickly, as if trying to get the words out ahead of a scream.
“I was the lone Aluren there, working to build a small chapel to the Two-Faced God. The villagers were friendly to me. Desperately poor, but…hopeful. But then the ship…the Seven Swords…it docked under the…auspices of …replenishing their stores of fresh water and salted meat for a longer journey to the Western Watch.”
“I think I’ve found the ball.” Selena dug deeper and Niven whimpered. “I’m sorry. Go on. They were pirates?”
Sweat beaded his forehead. “They flew no standard but said they were a cargo packet from the Isle of Lords. A poor lie. The Isle of Lords would never hire the likes of these men. Ah, gods!”
Niven twisted involuntarily away from Selena’s probing steel teeth, and she felt the pincers scrape lead. Three grasps and three times the pincers slipped. Niven was breathing like a bellows by the time her tool caught and held.
“I’ve got it.” Selena carefully pulled and held the pincers to the light; a small bloody slug grasped in its tines. She set the tool down, poured seawater, and found the moon in the sky.
“Illuria.”
The perfect round hole—made less perfect and more ragged by Selena’s prying tool—knit itself. Niven’s breathing slowed and a small smile spread over his face.
“I understand what you meant,” he said. “To ease pain is no small thing.”
Selena smiled thinly, watching the lines of pain on his face melt away. Her hand crept to her own wound but she let it fall. “I want to let you rest, but I’m still curious about we came to find you.”
Niven nodded, settling against the pillow. “The pirates…the villagers were frightened of them and I did my best to broker quick trades with the hopes the ship would sail on without incident. But their captain—an odious man by the name of Gullich—decided that an Aluren adherent was a rare commodity. He wished to take me back to Isle Lillomet with thoughts of ransoming me to the Temple. I resisted but he threatened the villagers. I had no choice but to comply. I spent weeks in the hold, desperately seasick—no sailor, am I—and once a day did they let me out for air. Afternoons. I was taking my daily walk at the end of the bo’sun’s pistol when the other ship came upon us, hours before you found me.”
“Another ship.” Selena remembered the ship Whistle had spotted sailing into the Heart Waters. “More pirates? Rivals to those of the Seven Swords?”
“I can’t say for sure, but it’s likely,” Niven said. “Whoever they were, they frightened the scoundrels of the Seven Swords into a near panic. Frightened me too. I saw the ship. A dark, shadowy thing that brought the cold of the Deeps with it.”
“Not pirates then. A Bazira ship.”
“Aye, that may be true. But the ship didn’t get close enough for me to see anyone on board. It only…menaced the Seven Swords. Its crew was silent. Everything grew silent, even the sea.” He shivered. “It was unnatural. And the stench…As if the water around the ship was poisoned or polluted. A sickening smell. Then the merkind attacked.”
“By whose order?” Selena asked. “From the strange ship?”
Niven’s eyes dropped. “It all happened too fast. I was thrown into the hold and the panicked bo’sun shot me. It was an accident—not that it mattered much to him—and he left me there. I thought someone would come back and finish the job but no one did. After the battle, the same silence fell over the Seven Swords, only this time I was inside it.” His pale face turned ashen. “It was horrible. I called for help and even the sound of my own voice made my skin…”
“Itch?”
“Yes. It frightened me, but dying alone in the hold—for I knew by then that the crew of the Seven Swords was gone—frightened me more.”
“I can imagine.”
Niven’s eyes drifting closed. “The god rewarded me. It sent you.”
Selena patted his hand. “Rest. I’ve taxed you enough with so much talk.”
“Thank you.” He sighed. “Thank the god for you, Paladin…”
Selena climbed up the quarterdeck. One lantern, hung from the spanker boom, cast a soft yellow glow over the ship. Ilior was at the aft rail, watching the wake. He turned to regard her, scrutinizing. Satisfied she was unhurt, he turned back to watching for merkind pursuit.
“Well?” Captain Tergus demanded. “What’s his story? Is he truly one of your kind, or can I toss him overboard?”
“He’s no danger to us,” Selena said. “His appearance vouches for his story as much as his words. His tunic is threadbare and he’s weary in his heart and mind from all that’s he’s witnessed.”
“And what might that be?”
“He’s spent the last ten years healing the people of the Farendus Isles,” Selena said. “Ten years.”
Julian pressed his lips together. “Another mouth to feed,” he said after a moment. “Another drain on our fresh water. Unless you mean to drop him somewhere.”
“He’ll likely want to take passage back to Lillomet at our next port. You won’t suffer his presence too long, Captain.”
She started to retreat to the galley and Cook’s stove. The air was growing colder day by day. The night air now had a bite to it. She doubted anyone else had noticed it, but Selena felt the smallest deviations acutely. Julian stopped her with his voice.
“Stay ready,” he said.
She turned. “Why?”
“The danger’s not over yet. We may need your light magic.”
Selena peered at the wake behind them: black but bearded in white. “You think we’re being followed?”
“I don’t take chances.” He tapped his fingers on the wheel. “And neither should you.”
“Niven is not a danger, if that’s what you’re intimating. He’s Aluren. His story was one of humble courage and selflessness.”
“Selfless, aye.” Julian nodded. There was a short silence between them; Selena was about to leave as the conversation seemed over, then he said, “You see Cur down there? Tying up the staysails?”
Selena looked to the bow of the ship, at Cur: a shadowy shape on the bowsprit, made lean and hard by years of sailing. “I do.”
“I found him on the Farendus Isles too. During the war he’d worked—against his will—as a runner for the Zak’reth, delivering messages, foodstuffs, rum. The Zak’reth liked to use conquered folk for menial tasks. It was dangerous; mistakes meant death. Bloody Deeps, sometimes it didn’t even take a mistake. Zak’reth love to spill blood, as I’m sure you’re aware. Many a Farendii lost his life, simply because it amused some Zak’reth bastard to watch him…or her…die.”
“Their brutality is unmatched,” Selena said, her own memories, always on the cusp, ready to pounce.
“Aye,” Julian said. “Unmatched.”
Selena glanced up, wondering if he mocked her, but he went on, his voice low and toneless.
“But old Cur wasn’t just being the obedient lap dog they thought him to be. While he was running their little errands, he was also running secrets. To the Alliance. And when the Zak’reth caught him, they gave him a choice: to tell them who his contacts were,” Julian said, turning to look at her, “or eat his own tongue. I’m sure you can guess what he chose.”
Selena huddled deeper in her coat. “A brave man to choose the latter.”
“You think so? Selfless, eh?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Aye, it would have been. Selfless. Except he did no such thing.”
“I thought you said—”
“I lied,” the captain said. “I found Cur on a nameless shit-heap of an island, so drunk he couldn’t remember his own name. He’d been dicing with pirates and they accused him of cheating. Probably was. The old bastard tried to run away from half a dozen knives, stumbled, fell, and bit off his own tongue in his drunken stupor.”
Selena stared a moment, then shook her head, disgusted, and started for the ladder.
“Do you see the moral of my tale?” Julian called after. “Anyone can talk of selfless deeds. It’s the easiest bloody thing in the world.”
Selena stopped, turned and strode back the captain.
“I think it’s a great pity when a man has seen so much darkness that he can no longer tell the difference between fool’s fire and the dawn.”
Julian regarded her in silence, then drew out a cigarillo and lit it. The nub burned bright against the gloom. Ilior had turned to watch the exchange, the captain in particular.
“The war was hard on many of us,” Selena said. “Perhaps on you too, Captain Tergus. It was hard on me, for certain, but I’m grateful that I can still recognize something good when it’s right before my eyes.”
His expression remained blank, and he made no reply.
“Good night, Julian.”
In her cabin, Niven breathed deep and evenly, his mouth open, in an ecstasy of true, unguarded rest. Likely for the first time in weeks, if not longer. She covered him with the thin blanket, then unbuckled her sword and tucked it underneath her bunk. Then she kicked off her boots, and burrowed down into her own pillow, seeking the place where the cold couldn’t touch her. The god smiled on her that night, for she was asleep in moments and she did not dream.