All Fall Down (37 page)

“Well, let us hear it, for there is plenty of wine,” I returned, somewhat recklessly, even as I caught Shaine’s brow furrowing briefly before he said,

“Yes, I think we would all like to hear how you found us.”

Thus encouraged, Brahn held out his goblet so that I might refill it, and then helped himself to a hearty sip before continuing, “At first we were not unduly concerned, for you had often been away from the Order for some time. But the weeks bore on, and winter began to approach, and there was no word of you. Then one day a man who claimed to be a farmer from Threnlyn appeared, and said he’d been told to pass on word from another man, an innkeeper named Frin, that one of our healers had been stolen from his village by slavers.”

“Frin,” I murmured, surprised despite myself. So he did manage to get the message through.

“You knew him?” asked Brahn.

“Only slightly. He was the innkeeper in Aunde, the village where I had been treating an outbreak of tertian fever when I was taken. He tried to hide me.”

Lord Shaine shot me an odd look. “You never told me any of this.”

I lifted my shoulders and replied, “You never asked me.”

Brahn looked from Shaine to me and then back again, and drank more wine. It was hard to say what he saw in our faces. He had been surprised to find me a free woman, and perhaps even more surprised by the way I made free of the household, but he had accepted my status with equanimity. If he thought some of that status might have been conferred by a not entirely professional physician/patient relationship, he was too well-bred to say so. I recalled then that he was the son of minor nobility, a baronet or second son of a viscount, and so possessed perhaps more knowledge of how to navigate such potentially tricky social situations than most of the members of my Order would have been able to.
 

“At any rate, we knew then you had been taken, but before we could begin to plan how to recover you, we received word that the plague had begun to spread across Seldd. The masters said it was far too dangerous for any of us to undertake such a pursuit.” Once again Brahn surveyed the hall—the quiet forms of the slaves who came to remove empty trays and plates from the table, the surviving men who could still take their place at the high table: Master Wilys, Master Breen. “We were lucky in Lystare, for the masters went at once to the king and counseled him to close the city gates, so that there was no risk of the disease spreading within the population. And because then it still had only touched the outlying provinces, we headed it off before it could get a grip on the city. But safe as we were, there was no question of anyone riding forth, not while the plague ravaged the countrysides of both Purth and Seldd.” His manner uncharacteristically grave, he added, “I will not detail what I saw as I finally made my way here. Suffice it to say that this is the only estate I have yet come across that shows any sign of resuming a normal life. I assume it must be because of the careful stewardship of Mistress Merys here?”

Lord Shaine’s mouth tightened a little, but he replied in cool, even tones, “We are indebted to Mistress Merys. I have no doubt that none of us would have survived if it had not been for her hard work and quick thinking.”

That was the most praise I had ever received from him for my labors during the plague. I would have taken more comfort from it had I not known that he spoke thus for Brahn’s benefit and not mine.

All I said, however, was, “We were lucky,” and sipped at my wine.
 

Brahn would not be put off, though, and said, “I misdoubt it was luck and guess that it was more your training. You were ever modest, Mistress Merys.”

His words, rather than cheering me, only served to make me feel more uncomfortable. Truly, at that moment I wished I could rise and go hide in my rooms. Since that option was not available to me, I instead asked, “But how is it you were able to discover where I was, once you determined it was safe to leave the walls of Lystare?”

“Ah, that.” He settled back in his chair and raised his goblet, but did not drink. Somehow I had the feeling it was a posture he affected often in the taverns of our capital city. Men like him always did better when they had an audience. “Well, we did have to wait the better part of the winter, but then Charis and Millarn and I decided to ride south, to see if we could heat up the trail again, so to speak. We did not much fear the plague, as it has a tendency to burn itself out. I will not say that Farendon did not suffer, but the word had spread out from Lystare that the safest course was to isolate each village and town as much as possible, and so we fared better than some. And when we reached the southern marches we began to ask for word of the slavers who roamed in those areas.”

“And were they so easy to find?” inquired Lord Shaine. “I had always been told that their success lies in stealth, and in possessing secret strongholds whose location no outsider may know.”

“You would know the truth of that better than I, my lord,” Brahn replied, and this time he did not make quite such an effort at politeness.
 

Even an undiscerning listener would know right away what Brahn’s personal feelings on slavers and slavery were, and Shaine was far from undiscerning. His mouth tightened somewhat at the corners, but his voice was mild enough as he said, “As to that, I only know what I have been told. I have had no direct dealings with such people.”

I wondered if that somehow made it better, to have his slaves brokered by a steward, so that he never had to dirty his hands by going to the slave markets of Myalme and arranging for a fresh batch of workers there. Then I thought that was uncharitable of me. Lord Shaine could not help the customs of the land where he had been born, and he did well by his slaves compared to most, for they had comfortable quarters and plenty of food and clothing that was strong and serviceable. True, they did not have their freedom, but I knew I was expecting much if I thought he should throw off the traditions of his land and free all of them, and collect rents from them while he paid them a wage to work the fields or the dye houses or the looms. Truly, how different was it in Farendon, where I knew many peasants beggared themselves to maintain the rents on their properties, and so might as well have been slaves? Yes, they had the freedom to gather their meager belongings and leave when they so desired, but in practice that happened very rarely.

Brahn seemed to pick up the hint, and adopted a breezy smile. “Lucky you are, then, my lord, for I would not say they are the most pleasant people to be around. However, they suffered this winter, along with everyone else. The news seemed to be that most of the bands had dissolved, having lost most of their men, and those few who remained could be found washed up in various taverns. So it was that I chanced upon a fellow in Chondley, who—after I had bought him several rounds of ale—went quite melancholy in his cups, and informed me that he used to be such, but that the trade had all dried up. ‘And,’ he said, as he embarked on his fourth mug of the innkeep’s best porter, ‘I wish I had kept one, and not taken her to Myalme, for with a doctor such as her perhaps I would not have lost so many men.’

“This piqued my curiosity, as you can well imagine, and I pressed him for more information. So it was that I learned he had taken you, Merys, from Aunde, and sold you in a private transaction to the steward of Donnishold. From there it was a simple enough matter to come south in search of you.” He shook his head, and his smile began to look a little shopworn. “Well, ‘simple’ is a relative term. I mean that I was not challenged along the way, though it was a grim journey. Days passed where I saw not a single soul, and I began to wonder whether all of Seldd was dead. I avoided Myalme altogether, knowing that the plague could hide itself within a city and linger there far longer than in a small village or estate. But I continued on, and here I am.”

“Yes, here you are,” Lord Shaine said. “And great joy Mistress Merys must have in your arrival.” With that his gaze slid toward me, but those dark blue eyes were unreadable, and I could not guess what he thought. Most likely that I had been given a graceful way to make my exit, and I could leave and take my painful memories with me.

“I am very glad to see you, Brahn,” I said, and it was not a complete lie. For there was something in seeing a familiar face after so many months, and to hear the accents of someone from my homeland. “And I very much appreciate the labors you undertook to find me.”

He gave me a little half-bow while seated, obviously happy with my praise. I doubted that he even noticed the omission, that I had said nothing about plans for leaving.

But if Brahn was oblivious, Shaine was not. I saw his eyes narrow slightly before he gave the slightest shake of his head. “And I am sure you are weary, Master Brahn,” he said. “I have had one of the guest chambers made up for you. No doubt you wish to rest after such an arduous journey.”

“I do, very much.” If he sensed the undercurrents swirling through the hall, he gave no sign of it, but only rose from his chair and bowed to Lord Shaine, and then to me, before the pert Alinne appeared to guide him to the rooms that had been prepared. Her dark eyes fairly danced, and I guessed she thought it a very good duty, to be able to show such a handsome guest to his suite. And Brahn grinned down at her as well, no doubt pleased to have found someone who seemed happy to see him. Very likely he thought my response more than a little lackluster. He knew me well enough to realize I was not the sort of woman who would fling herself into his arms to show her thanks, but I guessed he had expected a little more show of appreciation than what I had displayed.
 

Master Breen and Master Wilys had not participated much in the conversation, apparently content to listen, but after Brahn had gone, Master Breen turned to me and said, “So you will be leaving us, mistress?”

I did not dare look at Lord Shaine. I somehow managed to turn to Master Breen and reply, “Yes, it appears I am.”

No visions of Inyanna came to me that night, no soothing dreams to guide me and tell me what my path should be. Instead, I was haunted by broken jumbles of faces and voices, of those I had lost. I saw Lady Yvaine’s accusing eyes, and heard Merime’s chiding tones, and then the boys from the stable, and finally Auren, who stood on a low rise I recognized as the one just south of the castle walls, where we had gone to gather the last of fall’s wildflowers together. The wind whipped at her dark blonde hair as she stood facing away from me. I reached out to touch her arm, but as I did so she shifted, and her face was not Auren’s at all, but Dorus’, his features contorted with anger. Then it was his hands on my throat, and I sat up in bed, gasping and choking, and realized I was safe in the room I shared with Elissa.

Her voice came to me in the darkness. “Mistress Merys? Is something amiss?”

Oh, it most definitely was, but I knew I could never begin to explain the cause of my unrest. “No, Elissa,” I said gently. “Nothing is wrong. Go back to sleep.”

Silence then, but after the space of a few heartbeats I heard her shift on her pallet, as if she settled herself back down to sleep. I realized then that she had no real reason to still stay here, as of course she was now no one’s lady’s maid, but Lord Shaine had not requested that she move into the slave’s quarters, and I had remained silent on the subject as well. She was too fragile for such work, I thought, but I had lately begun to show her how to make simple tinctures and healing draughts, and I hoped they would allow her to continue after I had left. The girl could never be a healer, but I believed in time she would be a worthy successor to me in the stillroom.

These thoughts were pleasant enough, and allowed me to settle myself down in bed and contemplate a hopeful future for her, and for all the residents of Donnishold. I could not stay, it seemed, but at least I could send forth my wishes that they would all do well and prosper. Nothing else remained here for me.

I was awake at dawn, although not because I wished to hasten the day in any way. No, I slept restlessly for the remainder of the night, and arose early because it seemed slightly more appealing than lying in bed and pretending to slumber. I moved quietly, so as not to wake Elissa. Normally even a household slave would have been required to rise earlier than that, to start the fires and heat water and begin the preparation of breakfast. But though Lord Shaine had taken over as much of the management of his household as he could, still there were things that were let slip, and Elissa, because of her dubious status, was one of them.
 

After all, I had very little to pack—my satchel with its complement of medicines and surgical implements, my two gowns and clean chemises and underthings. In fact, it seemed I took nothing away that I had not brought with me in the first place.
 

Only a broken heart
, some maudlin part of my mind put in, but I dismissed the thought as self-pitying and instead set about braiding my hair and putting it into its customary coil at the back of my head. Broken was a bit extreme—sprained, perhaps. I would heal, and go on, and do the work I had spent years training for. Someday I might even forget the sound of Shaine’s voice, or the calm regard in those dark blue eyes as he told me I was a gift from the goddess.
 

I gasped then, feeling the pain of it as a knife wound in my midsection. I put a hand to my mouth and forced the tears back, choked them down like the bitterest of wormwood extract. Tears would avail me nothing now; better that I should descend the stairs and make my goodbyes with the dignity that befitted a physician of the Golden Palm. I did not want Shaine to see me with red eyes and a blotchy face. If he did not love me, there was nothing I could do about it, but at the very least I wanted him to respect me.

So caught up in my own thoughts had I been that I did not realize Elissa had risen from her pallet and thrown a shawl over her shoulders. She stood a few paces away, watching me with a grave expression on her delicate features. I had told her the night before that Brahn had come to fetch me home, and so she knew why I had my satchel out, and all my things neatly packed away. Even so, her eyes shone with tears, and her voice trembled as she said, “Do you really have to leave?”