A Balance Broken (Dragonsoul Saga) (33 page)

Magus Britt returned the nod. “We have other surprises as well.”

Turning back to the Hadonese quartermaster, Earl Boris gestured toward his men. “Most have never served at Highspur before. They will need instruction.”

The Hadoner bowed his head. A fine beard circled his honest smile. “I have already detailed Gannonite men to get them situated. A hot meal is currently being served in the mess hall.” He gestured for them to follow him up the stairs. “The forge is fired, should any of your equipment need repair, and farriers stand ready in the stables to care for your mounts.”

Khalem Shadar led them to the staircase, and they began to climb upward. “We have many excellent eyes here at Highspur. We have known of your approach for some time.”

“My scouts watched you wet your toes in the Gallond,” Gael added. “We knew the hour you would arrive.”

Boris looked back to the quartermaster. “How are the stores?”

“Very full. And growing.”

Earl Boris rubbed his black mustache. “Keep at it, Khalem. I want the deep stores bursting if anything comes down on us.”

Once he set foot upon the third level, its walls carved with campfires and the vine-entangled hand of healing, Jaerd smelled bacon and roasted peppers, mingled with the yeasty aroma of fresh bread. His stomach gurgled, reminding him that he had not eaten since breakfast.

Boris smiled at him over his shoulder. “Not long now, Captain.”

A blocky, soot covered form waddled out from the entrance. Jaerd focused on a dwarf, almost as wide as he was tall. His black beard was streaked with gray, though Jaerd could not be certain if it came from age or ash. Grime smudged every visible patch of the dwarf’s skin. Upon his head he wore a helmet – the kind the dwarves wore for mining, not for battle. A white crystal was strapped to it.

The thing probably glows in the darkness below
.

Earl Boris clasped hands heartily with the dwarf, heedless of the black soot rubbing onto his glove. “Tarrak! Good to see you again, my friend.”

The dwarf laughed a sonorous bellow from his thick chest. “Good to see you again, lad. I was in the mines when you visited us last – found one heck of a vein – and never got word of your visit until you were already gone.”

Earl Boris patted the dwarf on the shoulder and raised a puff of dust in the process. “Understood, my old friend. I only wish I had been able to stay long enough to visit you down there myself. This time, however, I will be here for a while longer.” He waved his hand at Jaerd. “Captain Jaerd Westar, I want to introduce you to the chief dwarf here at Highspur, Maester Tarrak Goldmar.”

Jaerd shook the dwarf’s hand, ignoring the soot as politely as the earl had.

“Jaerd served on the walls of Gavanor for many years,” Boris said. “He has a particular knowledge of siege weapons. The two of you will have a lot of ideas to share over the next several months.” He waved at the walls. “I want this place bristling.”

“Good to meet you, lad.” The dwarf rubbed his blackened hands together. “I can’t wait to pick your brain for any of your Human secrets.” He cackled, eyes glittering.

Jaerd looked at his commanding officer, uncertainty on his face.

“It’s alright. Don’t mind him.” Boris laughed. “Tell him everything you know, with my permission.”

Jaerd saluted, noticing the odd grin on Tarrak’s face. “Yes, my lord.”
I think this old codger and I might just get along.

Boris turned to the elf ranger. “Can you have two dozen of your best ready to leave tomorrow?”

Squinting his eye, Gael nodded. “Aye. You wish to head out that quickly?”

The earl nodded. “Captain Silios will go with us too. We need not leave early – the men can rest tonight. We will discuss in council who I will take and what provisions we will need, but I will leave with at least a thousand cavalry tomorrow. We will scout deep into the Northlands.” He cast his gaze over Highuspur’s shoulders. “I intend on drawing them out. They’ve had enough time in control of the game board.”

Magus Britt sighed, stretching his back. “And my ass was just beginning to enjoy being out of the saddle.”

Earl Boris drew down his brows. “Nay, Joz. We’ve discussed this. You must stay here. You are the only one who can enhance the Quickfire.”

The Battlemage set his hands on his hips. He opened his mouth to argue, but Boris forestalled him with an upthrust finger.

“Very well,” he said at last, his eyes narrowing at Earl Boris. “But you are taking Gaeric and two of his best lieutenants with you.”

Jaerd gazed at the wide stretch of desolation.
I’m glad I’m staying here.

The Doctor’s College in Daynon dates back to King Arathan I, son of the Navigator. The Talent for healing hid within certain folk of the People of Gan, even during the Exile. Arathan I set the cornerstone of King’s Hall, a building still used to this day. He commissioned the college not only to find those with Talent and make Doctors out of them, but also to teach the basics of herbology and medicine to anyone with the aptitude to learn.

— “Second History of Gannon, Vol. III” by Elyn Bravano

M
addi leaned forward in the squeaky wooden chair, hunching over the desk with an inkwell and quill holder. The handsome man she had seen upon the dais in the High Hall just a week ago stood glaring down at her and the dozen students in the class. Lord Doctor Tymin Marten was the most Talented doctor in the city, and his place upon the High Council stemmed from his position as headmaster at the college.

“It is rare I see so many students in this class.” The Lord Doctor turned his eyes to Maddi, softening them and offering her the hint of a smile. “With our surprise addition this semester, you are the largest class I have ever taught to embrace their Talent.” He scanned the crowd with his gaze. “You all have the potential, or I would not waste my time with you. Some of you will choose to join the Bluecloaks – the army always has need of healers for some reason.” A soft chuckle emanated from the students. “A few of you may choose to teach here.” He narrowed his eyes. “Very few.”

Another soft laugh circled the classroom. Maddi even offered a slight grin, until a faint sound tickled her ears.
Was that a child’s cough?

The Lord Doctor folded his hands behind his back to continue. “Most of you know the basics of our current subject. Otherwise you would not be here. You have either been told by another Doctor or sensed it for yourself.” Marten turned his head toward a shy young woman slumped in her seat near the rear of the room. “Some of you even found a way to tap into your Talent already – warped though you have made it.” The woman sunk further into her seat.

“You know about the life force,” the doctor continued, “what the elves call the
psahn
. Healing Talent is far more common among the elves than humans, though less so among the dwarves.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I do not know nor care what the rate is among orcs.”

One boy near the front guffawed, receiving glares from some of the students.

After a short smile at the young man, as if proud of making him laugh so, Marten resumed his pacing. “Regardless, the
psahn
is the power that drives all life. It is in all living things – even the microbes that cause the diseases we cure.” He waved his finger at the class. “When you learn to use the mind’s eye of a healer and enter into your Talent, you will see the
psahn
as a glowing light, radiating from the life forms around you. The more complex the life, the more brilliant the glow.”

A hand shot up from the boy who had laughed.

The doctor sighed. “Yes, Mister Darby?”

The young man shifted forward on his seat. “How soon will we learn to use it?”

The Lord Doctor barked a sharp chuckle. “Well, Mister Darby, if you are so enthusiastic, lets get right to it.” He walked to a small door leading to a back room and opened it. “Come on out, little girl.”

A wiry ball of stringy hair and rags stepped into the classroom. Her eyes widened in fear at seeing the assembled students, then closed as she lifted her hand to cover a hacking cough. Coming from deep within her chest, it wracked her tiny frame. Maddi started from her seat, her hand reaching out. She stopped herself when the Lord Doctor led the girl forward.

“We will try disease first. Wounds next.” He pushed the girl forward, his fingertips pressuring her shoulders. “Mister Darby, you begin.”

The young man hopped up from his seat and strode forward to face the Lord Doctor. Darby looked down on the little urchin, who wiped her nose in response. He grimaced, his face wrinkling in disgust.

“Shut your eyes, and put your hands on her shoulders.” The Lord Doctor closed his own eyelids. “You will think of the girl, see her in your mind – see the glow of her
psahn
. Enter it with your mind. See the blackness of her sickness.”

Darby’s face lit up. “I see it!”

The Lord Doctor sighed. “No you don’t. You may sit down, Mister Darby. I see that you need more time and concentration.” Marten nodded to the disappointed student. “Read Lord Doctor Brathlaw’s book on meditation. Use the techniques there to hone your mind and concentration.”

Flopping down in his seat, Darby glared at the little girl.

As if it were her fault!

The poor girl hacked again, this time almost falling to her knees. Maddi half-stood. “Aren’t you going to help her? She obviously needs camphor and
menthum
, with a good bath and bed rest in clean sheets. She needs warm stew three or four times every day, and whatever citrus juice you can get your hands on in this city. Lemon-grass and honey could help as well.”

A small smile crept on Marten’s lips. “Then why don’t you help her yourself, Miss Conaleon? But not with your midwife’s remedies, useful as they may be on the frontier.” He gestured toward the girl. “Use your Talent.”

Maddi crossed the room, aware of the other student’s eyes upon her. She knelt in front of the girl, her face smoothing to a smile. “What is your name, sweetie?”

The girl sniffed. “Tanya.”

“My name is Maddi.”
She looks about the same age I was when father died. I imagine I looked just like her until Renna took me in.

Maddi placed her hands on the child’s shoulders, and the doctor placed his hands on hers. His finely manicured nails held not a speck of dirt, and his skin felt warm and soft.

“Close your eyes,” Marten whispered. “Find her
psahn
.”

In the darkness behind shut eyelids, Maddi imagined Tanya standing in front of her. Her hands upon the girl’s shoulders anchored Maddi, giving her mind a seed from which to grow.

“Breathe.” The Lord Doctor’s voice came to her – distant – as if he called through a fog. “Open your mind. Open your Talent.”

Maddi perceived a glowing shimmer gathering in the black. It swelled, shaping itself into the outline of a little girl. When Tanya coughed, Maddi barely heard it. Instead, she felt a lurch within the radiance of the girl’s life force. More silvery shapes bloomed into her perception – the students surrounding them. The doctor’s life force burst in front of her, becoming a brilliant glare once it fully resolved.

“Focus on the girl.” His words floated on the edge of her consciousness. “Find the shadow of the disease that dwells within her. Find it and draw it out.” He paused. “Take care to keep your own
psahn
clean.”

Shifting her mind back to the girl’s life force, Maddi concentrated on the shining form. Black specks flowed along within eddies of silver energy. They impeded it, dimming its brilliance.

Maddi reached into the light with her mind. A warm sensation flooded her cheeks and chest. She swept the specks of shadow together, like gathering corks upon a pool’s surface. Pulling them in, she continued searching Tanya’s life force. Drawing the disease inward, she held it away from her own sense of self.

The last of the impurities disappeared from the girl’s energy. Maddi withdrew from her Talent and opened her eyes.

Tanya’s color had brightened, a pink glow in the cheeks where once gray had reigned. She cleared her throat, but did not cough.

“By the Waters!” Marten covered his mouth with one hand. “I have never seen someone cure disease upon their first try.” His voice hung low and breathless. “You are…ahem…you did well, Miss Conaleon.”

When Maddi moved to rise, exhaustion rippled her muscles. She remained on her feet, however, standing without a wobble.

“You will want to sit and rest.” The Lord Doctor put his hand underneath her elbow and escorted her to her chair. He only let go her arm once she looked him in the eye and nodded.

After a few deep breaths, her senses cleared. She pulled a strand of loose hair back behind her ear.

“Careful.” Marten grabbed her wrist with a soft and steady grip.

A black, tar-like substance smudged the palm of her hand. The doctor reached over to a side table and set a large glass beaker of clear liquid on her desk. It smelled of the strongest liquor Maddi had ever sipped.

“Place your hand within, please. It is just a distilled spirit.”

Maddi dipped her fist into the beaker, the cold shock waking her mind even further. “It will kill the disease,” she said. “My foster mother also taught me to use strong spirits when cleaning wounds.”

Marten nodded, a half smile creeping onto his lips. “You are correct.” He scanned the gathered students. “This does not mean that drinking the spirits will do the same thing.” More chuckles rose from the students. The doctor handed Maddi a towel. “I will have my eyes on you.”

He walked over to the little girl, who had begun toying with a small metal contraption on the doctor’s desk. “Here you go, young miss.” He handed her a silver penny, the sight of which cause Tanya to gasp in excitement. “Go on back home now.” He ushered her to the hall door, scooting her out and closing it behind her.

Maddi frowned, eyes narrowing at the doctor. “Shouldn’t someone see her to her home?”

Marten knitted his brow, as if surprised by her question. “She is an urchin of the street. She knows her way about the city, I assure you.” He huffed. “Probably better than either of us do.”

The Lord Doctor waved his hand in dismissal and opened another side door. A large guardsman in the white and gray livery of the city watch entered the room. The man winced when the doctor unwrapped a folded bandage soaked with the guard’s blood and exposed a nasty slash on the man’s arm.

“Private Digson kindly agreed to let his wound sit open so that I might test another one of you. Who wants to try to repair this?”

Thoughts racing through her mind, Maddi sat in the chair, distantly observing several students fail to heal the guard. After six unsuccessful tries, the color of the guard’s face began to shift past gray into ash. A small pool of blood gathered among the river rushes scattered on the stone floor. The doctor laughed at his students, closed his eyes, and touched the arm of the man. In seconds, the wound knitted closed, leaving only a small pink scar underneath the blood that had already leaked from the gash.

Those events hopped along the surface of Maddi’s awareness. Her mind focused on what she had done, the potential she felt when embracing her Talent. She longed to do it again.

What does this mean for my
other
career?

When the yard bell rang to mark the hour, she rose, still numb, and shuffled out the door along with the other students. Her mind still tried to wrap itself around her power.

“Miss Conaleon, if you would stay a moment…”

Maddi took two more steps before the Lord Doctor’s words registered in her head. She turned and walked back to him. His pale honey eyes narrowed in an examining stare.

“I have something for you.” He held up his hand, a small key dangling from his fingers on a leather thong. “All new students, no matter how high their references, are required to live in the dormitory. You are assigned to room twenty-seven.”

Maddi took the key from his hands. She stared at it.

“You are welcome, Miss Conaleon.” The doctor chuckled, turning his chair back to his desk and focusing on the papers there. “See you tomorrow.”

She wandered into the hall.
Just how powerful is this Talent?

L
eaning against the door marked “27”, Maddi heard the sound of soft crying. She stood, listening until the sobs faded away. When no more sniffles drifted through the thick oak, Maddi turned the key and pushed her way inside.

Two narrow beds hugged the walls with the space of another between. Through a single window, draped in plain cotton, Maddi glimpsed the grassy space between college buildings. Curled up with a knitted blanket, the pretty, kind-faced student from Maddi’s class sat on the left hand bed.
The one Marten accused of warping her Talent.
The young woman wiped a tear from under her eye, and offered a friendly smile.