Ferran's Map (21 page)

For a frantic moment, she considered taking
a short hallway to the rear grounds. Surely Cedric wouldn’t look
for her there….

When they reached the bottom of the
stairwell, Ferran touched her shoulder unexpectedly. She
jumped.

“Steady now,” he laughed. “You’re gnawing a
hole through your lip. You’re thinking too hard, my dear.”

Lori looked around the flagstone foyer at
the solid oak door that led to the courtyard. “Do you think Cedric
is still on the grounds?” she asked.

Ferran frowned. “Most likely,” he said. “His
family crest is stamped all over the building, and I think I saw
his pleasure craft anchored at the docks. The Daniellians fund the
seminary, don’t they?”

“Aye,” Lori said, still searching the hall.
“Their family might as well own this place….You don’t think he’s
waiting outside, do you?”

Perhaps it was her tone of voice, or the
frantic way she glanced at the door, but Ferran took her chin in
his hand and lifted her face so she was looking directly at him.
“What’s wrong?” His tone deepened. “Do you know each other?”

“I knew him, but not very well,” Lori
muttered.
Besides trying to kill me,
she thought to herself.
She had worked at the Daniellian household for a year before
running for her life. But she didn’t want Ferran to be concerned,
since it was seven years in the past. Surely Lord Cedric would have
moved on by now?

“Best just to avoid him, I think,” she said,
pulling away. “Could cause complications. What if he recognizes
you?”

Ferran studied her eyes for a moment longer.
“I don’t care if he recognizes me,” he said bluntly. “But I’ll do
whatever makes you comfortable.”

Lori stifled a sigh of relief.

They left down a separate staircase, through
a wide kitchen and out onto the rear grounds. This part of the
seminary was beautifully cultivated and landscaped with herb
gardens, pumpkin patches, apple trees and blueberry bushes, not to
mention countless rows of flowers, all turned a muted brown by
winter frost. She saw a few patients sitting on stone benches; they
appeared to have physical injuries, not the plague.

Lori followed a familiar path through the
garden into a trimmed row of trees. She recognized the few cracked
flagstones along the path. The trees had grown, and the pumpkin
patch had been moved to the other side of the orchard. She first
came to the seminary at 21, homeless and wandering, to see if the
Healers would take her in. At 27, she graduated from their
ranks.

Then she met Lord Cedric Daniellian. After a
few friendly encounters, he requested her to work at his estate
tending his mother, who was wasting away from some sort of terrible
stomach disease. Lady Daniellian had horrible pain, no matter what
she ate or drank. Lori had never seen anything like it.

She treated Cedric’s mother as best she
could, but it was hopeless to begin with….It was not negligence, a
charge Lord Cedric eventually leveled against her.

They reached the rear wall of the seminary
and exited through a small garden gate into the pine forest. Lori
felt calmer once the thick trees surrounded her. Surely Cedric
wouldn’t go to this much trouble to confront her. She had left the
city years ago, time enough for old grudges to die, and the past to
be laid to rest.

The forest path ended at a stone fountain.
Ferran took the lead and started into the trees to cut through the
forest to The Bath, then circle around to the seminary docks. Lori
felt a little silly taking such a detour, but if Cedric wasn’t
outside the seminary gates, he could be waiting for her on the
road.

CHAPTER 11

Lori sucked in a quick breath when she
caught sight of the docks. Despite their detour, sure enough, Lord
Cedric Daniellian stood at the seminary’s small marina, accompanied
by his footman. The two solemnly scanned the road, obviously
waiting for someone’s approach.
Her
approach.

“Bells,” she muttered, watching them through
the trees.

Ferran shoved his hands in the pockets of
his greatcoat. “Why would dear Cedric be waiting out here?” His
eyes traveled down to her. “For you, I assume?”

Lori cringed behind a tree, then stood up
straight. She was a strong woman now, not that scared girl who fled
the seminary. She would have to confront Cedric if they were to
leave these docks.

“Let’s get this over with,” she said to
Ferran with resignation.

Coming out of the forest, they walked across
the small wooden boardwalk of the docks. Cedric saw them
immediately. His light blue eyes targeted her like a hawk sighting
a mouse. Then a slow, almost charming smile split his narrow
face.

“Lorianne Blithe,” he said endearingly as
she approached. “Healer Lorianne. Lori. Five years, has it
been?”

“Seven,” she corrected immediately.

“You must excuse my rudeness before,” he
said. “I wasn’t sure I recognized you.”

Liar,
Lori thought.

“Then again, I’m not quite sure how I should
address you, seeing as you’ve revoked your vows. What does that
make you now? A peasant? A handmaid? A servant girl?”

Lori bit her lip. So that’s how Duncan
handled this business. Perhaps he had made her disappearance seem
more like a willing exile, and less like a frantic flight for her
life. That was a lie, of course, since she had never revoked her
vows as a Healer.

“What brings you back to the city?” Cedric
said, his eyes still piercing. He hadn’t glanced once at
Ferran.

“Business,” Lori said briefly. “I certainly
didn’t anticipate seeing you here.”

Cedric spread his arms. “Here? At the
seminary? Why, this place is practically my home.” His smile
tightened. “You should never have come back to this city.”

The words hung between them, intentionally
blunt.

Lori raised her chin a notch. “My
condolences for your mother’s passing,” she said, cutting straight
to the heart of the tension. “I assumed you and Headmaster Duncan
worked out all of that nastiness. Why dredge it up now? I’ve paid
my dues.”

“To whom?” Cedric murmured. “Certainly not
to my family. Certainly not to my poor mother.”

Lori couldn’t quite believe her ears,
despite what her instincts had told her all along. The nobility
held onto grudges like children holding onto candy. Quite frankly,
she didn’t think the upper tiers had anything better to do. Nothing
caused a stir like a good, hardened, decade-old feud.

“I tended your mother to my best ability,”
Lori began.

“You poisoned her!” Cedric interrupted.

Ferran shifted at Lori’s side. She could
sense his questioning look. She couldn’t meet his eyes right now,
not while staring down Cedric Daniellian.

“Why would I poison your mother?” she asked
directly. “I’m a Healer…
was
a Healer, until I left.”
A
lie for a lie,
she thought. “By the Goddess, your anger doesn’t
make any sense, Cedric!”

“
Lord
Cedric, you disgusting low-born
waif!” he snapped, his words falling like liquid silver from his
tongue. “She died from poison,” he continued. “The last meal she
ever ate. And you were the one preparing her food!” He choked in
anger, and his pale complexion flushed to a fine rosy pink. “I
don’t know why or who paid you to do it, but I know she died from
your neglect.”

“Cedric….” Lori had the nerve to feel pity
for him, if only for a moment. “I’m a Healer. I have no reason to
kill anyone.”

“Your creed is a lie. You think me so naive?
Not all Healers are true to their code,” he seethed. “Everyone has
their price.”

“Enough, Cedric,” Ferran said suddenly. He
took a step forward. “You’re not making any sense. Goddess’ bells,
why harass the woman now? Seven years! Can you not let it go?”

Cedric glanced at Ferran for the first time.
He looked the treasure hunter up and down, his lip curled in
disgust. “Riffraff. How dare you speak as if you know me!” Cedric
spat at Ferran’s boots. “I’ll have you thrown in the stocks for
such disrespect! And this wench can be locked in a whorehouse for
the debt she owes me….What do you think? How many men shall she
service before she’s repaid my mother’s life?”

“That’s sick,” Lori rebuked.

“But fair, is it not?” Cedric sneered. “I’m
sure you’re quite skilled on your knees.”

Ferran lunged without warning. In two steps,
his heavy knuckles connected squarely with Cedric’s jaw.

Lori gasped in shock.

Cedric collapsed to the ground. Ferran fell
on top of him. He grabbed Lord Cedric by his once-pristine shirt
collar, now spattered with blood from his nose, then punched Cedric
twice again for good measure before Cedric’s footman joined the
fray. The footman jumped on Ferran’s back and tried to pry him off,
but Ferran threw him over with a great heave of his wide
shoulders.

Then Lori saw the footman reach for his
belt. A knife glinted.

“Ferran!” she exclaimed, and ran forward.
She grabbed the footman’s wrist and tried to twist the knife from
his strong grip. The servant tripped over Cedric’s boot and fell
forward, dragging Lori with him, and they both tumbled to the
ground. Cedric, the footman, Lori and Ferran wrestled in a dog pile
on the docks. Lori tried to find the hand holding the knife, but
there were so many twisting limbs and bodies….

Suddenly a massive force struck Lori in the
back and she collapsed to the ground. The impact stole her breath
and took her strength. The fighting and tussling went on for a
moment longer; then Ferran disentangled himself from Cedric and
stood up.

Lord Daniellian sat there, holding his right
hand over his swelling eye. His left hand and the sleeve of his
jacket were drenched in blood. From the look on his face, Lori knew
instinctively what he had done.

“The nobility aren’t above the law,” she
wheezed. (Particularly where Healers are concerned; that’s why
Cedric hired thugs to kill her the first time.) “You stabbed
me.”

“As I recall, I was attacked by a thieving
highwayman,” Cedric sneered at Ferran. “As though the King would
take the side of an disavowed Healer over the word of the First
Tier.” His very tone was an insult. “Take your life and run, little
wench. Next time I see you, I’ll make sure the blade goes straight
through your heart. Or perhaps your left kidney. Or maybe your
throat.”

Lori stared at him defiantly, her temples
pounding with rage. Cedric’s righteous satisfaction and her own
boiling hatred spoke volumes.

Then a horrible, nauseating wave of pain
tore through her. Lori ground her teeth and slowly reached around
her side until her hand touched the hilt of the dagger embedded
between her ribs. A thick wall of muscle had stopped the knife from
penetrating her lungs.
Damned lucky
, she thought as her
adrenaline waned. One inch to the left and she would now be
drowning in her own blood.

Ferran’s shadow fell across her. She
recognized his boots, the ones she mended only a week ago. She
focused on the leather buckles and the wrinkled creases around the
heel. Now she felt the deep tightness of the wound, and the fiery
sensation spreading across her back.

“Come,” Ferran said softly, and gripped her
under the arms, trying to lift her to her feet.

Lori gasped sharply and shook her head. No.
Not now. It hurt too much to move, and she hated to show her
weakness in front of Cedric.

“A shame I couldn’t do that seven years ago,
when Mother’s grave was still fresh,” Daniellian said. “But I
suppose the Goddess hears some of our prayers, hmmm? The Winds move
at their own timing.”

Ferran whirled on Cedric and viciously
pointed his finger at him. “This isn’t over, Daniellian,” he
growled. “Remember my face, because it will be the last one you
see.”

Cedric had the gall to laugh at that, even
with his black eye, bleeding nose and split lip. He laughed far too
long and hard—as though he’d never been threatened by a peasant
before, and this was some sort of specialty entertainment.

“Shall I write down my address for you?” he
mocked. “A sloppy wretch like you wouldn’t make it through The
Regency gates!” And he kept laughing, even as his footman took a
handkerchief and began dabbing the blood from his employer's face
like a mother hen.

Ferran ignored him. He swept his arms under
Lori and lifted her carefully, keeping the knife in place so it
wouldn’t bleed out. Pain ripped through her body and Lori let out a
harsh gasp. Her hands flew to his neck and she held on tightly, but
Ferran didn’t flinch. He turned and walked swiftly along the
boardwalk back to his boat. Every footstep jarred her body, causing
pain to roll through her torso. For a moment, she thought she’d
vomit.

Dimly, she realized that he was speaking to
her. “…Don’t interrupt a man who’s fighting for you. Stubborn
woman, completely thoughtless, no common sense—absolutely none.
Can’t believe how reckless you are. When all this is over, I’m
going to bend you over my knee and give you a hard swat. Should
have done that a long time ago. You can’t be both a Healer and a
fighter, Lori. You have to pick one or the other. That stab wound
should be mine; you should be the one carrying me back to the
boat….”

She blinked up at him. “Did you just say
you’re going to…” she paused, dragging in another shallow breath.
“Swat me?”

Ferran gave her a severe look. But he
couldn’t sustain it and sighed, “This better not be as serious as
it looks,” he said.

“It’s not,” she assured him. She felt
lightheaded from the pain, but no pressure from fluid in her chest,
so she highly doubted that an internal organ had been nicked. Then
again, she couldn’t see the blood. The back of her shirt stuck to
her skin down to her pants.

Ferran navigated the docks and boarded his
houseboat without another word about Cedric Daniellian. Honestly,
Lori was relieved. She wanted to be long gone before Cedric had a
chance to report them to the city guards, or run back to Headmaster
Duncan and cause more trouble. A small guard force worked at the
seminary and undoubtedly would arrive soon.