Lady Carliss and the Waters of Moorue (6 page)

They rode to the only tavern in the town and dismounted. Carliss was grateful to rest her arms. Salina helped her get Dalton off his horse and position him sitting against the wall. She then went into the tavern. Dalton slumped to the side, and Carliss steadied him so he wouldn’t fall. She knelt in front of him, then lifted his chin and peered into his face.

“Don’t give up, Dalton,” she whispered.

Dalton moaned, and his head rolled to the left and right. His eyes opened halfway.

“My love,” he murmured, “I’ve come for you. Let’s ride off togeth…”

Carliss stared at him, stunned. He was clearly not himself, but hearing him say such things still rattled her.

“No one here can help.” Salina had appeared in the doorway. “How is he?”

“Ah… not very well. He’s quite delirious and babbling nonsense.”

Carliss looked up and down the main thoroughfare. The usual activity of a town filled the lane. A few small shops were open, and people were moving about their business.

Across the lane and up a few buildings, Carliss saw four children taunting some poor animal cowering in the corner. They all had sticks and took turns poking it.

“We need to find someone to help him
now.”
Carliss looked up at Salina. She was worried.

“I’ll check with a couple of the shops to see if they know of anyone.” Salina hurried off.

“Please stop,” Carliss heard a deep voice plead. She looked more closely at the children and was amazed to see that the animal they had been poking was actually a full-grown man hunkered down into a protective ball. The children just laughed and began striking the man with their sticks.

“Oafy, Oafy, Oafy,” the children called.

Carliss hated to leave Dalton even for a moment, but malice toward the lowly was something she could not stand by and watch. She stood and began walking toward the scene. She saw the man cover his head with his hands, trying to keep the sticks from hitting him. The children renewed their torment and taunting.

“Stop it!” Carliss quickened her pace.

The children stopped and gazed at her, seemingly perplexed. The oldest imp, a lad of about eleven, lifted his stick to strike once again. Carliss glared hard at the boy.

“Do it again,” she said sternly, “and I’ll use that stick to paddle you!”

The tormented man looked up just as the imp smacked him hard in the head with his stick. Carliss sprinted toward them, and the four children threw down their sticks and ran, laughing all the way, shouting, “Oafy, Oafy, Oafy.”

The man covered his head again as Carliss reached him. His brown rags barely covered his body, and his hair was a wild mess. A worn-out broom lay beside him.

“Are you all right?” Carliss asked gently, kneeling beside him.

The man slowly opened his eyes. He lifted his hand from the place where the last stick had hit him, and blood dripped down his forehead.

“Please stop,” the man pleaded.

Carliss leaned closer. “They are gone. They won’t hurt you anymore.”

The man carefully looked up. His face was filthy, and his eyes seemed to tilt low to the outside, giving him the appearance of a beaten puppy. He looked about for the children. Carliss smiled and touched his arm. The man was large, and she had a hard time imagining him being frightened by the meanspirited children.

The man looked into Carliss’s eyes. He smiled, but she could tell his mind was not fully there. He didn’t even seem to notice the blood trickling down his forehead.

“Oafy sweeps,” he said, then looked about for his broom.

Carliss reached for it and handed it to him. He smiled and nodded. When he stood up, Carliss rose up with him. His back did not seem to straighten fully, but even so he towered over Carliss. He began to sweep the walkway where he had been crouching as if he had just returned from a break.

“Will you be all right now?” Carliss asked.

The man smiled and nodded while making a goofy, gleeful sound with his throat.

Carliss returned the smile, then turned to go back to Dalton. She could see that he had fallen over and was now lying along the wall of the tavern. A man and a woman walked by, shaking their heads in disgust. Carliss hurried over to them.

“Excuse me,” she said, interrupting their walk, “this man is injured and—”

The man and woman snorted and then hurried on their way. Carliss was becoming agitated by this town and by their lack of success in finding help. Salina returned and shook her head.

“We’re going to Salisburg,” Carliss said. “At least there are people there who will help us.”

Salina agreed, and they lifted Dalton to his feet once again. He was worse off now and seemed much heavier than before. As they struggled to lift him to his horse, the man called Oafy appeared at Carliss’s side. He tilted his head from one side to the other as they tried fruitlessly to get Dalton mounted.

Finally Carliss turned to the man. “Please help,” she said with a gentle smile.

Oafy dropped his broom and lifted Dalton as if he were lifting a child. Once Dalton was placed in the saddle, he slumped forward onto the neck of his horse. His head was turned toward Carliss and the large fellow.

“Thank you,” Carliss said to Oafy, but he didn’t respond. He was studying Dalton’s face.

He leaned in close to Dalton and squinted. He slowly brought a finger up to Dalton’s face and looked as if he was going to poke his eye. Carliss grabbed Oafy’s hand and gently pulled it away. He looked at Carliss.

“Tolmew,” he said.

“What?” Carliss asked.

“Tolmew fix sick man,” the large fellow said again and pointed to Dalton.

“Is Tolmew nearby?” Carliss asked, wondering how much he understood.

The man seemed puzzled for a moment.

“Carliss,” Salina said. “We need to go.”

“Tolmew nearby,” the man said.

Carliss looked at Dalton. Beads of sweat had formed above his brows and on his cheeks. She touched his forehead; it burned with fever. Something told her Dalton would never make it to Salisburg alive, but trusting Dalton’s life to this childlike street sweeper seemed absurd.

Carliss looked deep into the eyes of her odd new friend. “What’s your name?”

“Oafy,” the man said soberly.

“What’s your real name?” Carliss tried once more.

The man’s eyes seemed to droop, but a slight smile lit upon his face. He put his hand to his chest.

“Ganoaf,” he said.

Carliss smiled back. “Take us to Tolmew, Ganoaf.”

THE ALCHEMIST

Carliss didn’t like being responsible for Dalton’s life. He would live or die by her decisions, and she would have to live with that forever. She wished Koen was with her. He always seemed to know exactly what to do.

They followed Ganoaf through Pembrook and into the country to the east. They traveled for some time along a road that wound through trees and hills. Finally, deep in a forested hollow, they came to a strange-looking hut. It was nestled in tightly with the surrounding trees.

Ganoaf pointed to the hut. “Tolmew.”

Carliss looked at Salina and then toward the house. She took a deep breath.

“We don’t have much of a choice. Dalton’s getting worse by the moment.”

Salina didn’t answer, but Carliss could tell by her face that she thought this was a waste of time. Ganoaf helped Carliss get Dalton off the horse, then carried him in his arms behind Carliss as she approached the door to the quaint, little forest hut. A yellow glow illumined the windows and flickered, indicating the fire inside was well tended. The thatched roof hung low to the ground on the sides, and the surrounding trees nearly engulfed the abode.

Carliss knocked on the door and waited. After a second attempt, she was rewarded with the sounds of the latch being released. The door
slowly opened, and a silver-haired woman peered out. She glanced quickly at Carliss and then opened the door wide. She smiled warmly, and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepened. Besides Ganoaf, this was the first friendly face they had seen since entering Pembrook.

“Hello, deary,” the woman said in a gentle voice. “What brings you to our humble hut?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, madam, but I have a friend who has been injured and is in desperate need of attention.” Carliss stepped aside to reveal Ganoaf holding Dalton.

“Oh my!” the woman said. “Bring him in, Ganoaf.”

Carliss followed the woman in and helped Ganoaf get Dalton through the door.

“How in the kingdom did you get Ganoaf to help you?” the woman said. She leaned close to Carliss. “He’s not really all there, you know.”

“Ganoaf is the one who told us about you and led us here,” Carliss replied.

The woman looked at their large assistant as he laid Dalton on a cot in the corner.

“Really?” she said. “All he’s ever done is sweep the streets and sidewalks of Pembrook. We give him food from time to time, but he’s never really said much to us. However, there was that one time—”

“Excuse me, madam,” Carliss interrupted. “Are you Tolmew?”

“Tolmew?” she asked, looking perplexed. “Ah…you mean Petolemew. Good gracious, no,” the woman nearly laughed. “I am Eunice. Petolemew is my husband.”

Carliss knelt down to Dalton and felt his forehead again. “He is very sick. Is there anything you can do to help him?” Carliss asked. The kindness of the older woman was comforting, but her apparent lack of urgency was frustrating too.

The old woman came closer and peered at Dalton. “I’m so sorry. I will get Petolemew. He may be able to help.”

“He’s a doctor then?” Salina asked. “He’s here now?”

“Not a doctor, my dear. He calls himself an alchemist, although I’m sure I don’t understand the half of what he does. And of course he’s here.
He’s always here.” The woman went to the far wall of the hut and opened a small door.

“Petolemew!” she shouted and then closed the door. “He’ll be here in a moment. What is your name, child?”

“I am Carliss of Salisburg. This is Salina. Apparently you already know Ganoaf. And this is Dalton.” Carliss took a cloth and wiped more beads of sweat from Dalton’s brow. She began to untie the cloth about his neck.

“What happened to him?” Eunice asked.

“He was bitten by—”

“What do you need, dear?” a reedy voice called out as the back door to the hut opened.

A white-haired gentleman entered the room and stopped just inside the threshold.

“Goodness, what have we here?” He gawked at the small room full of people. “Eunice, why didn’t you tell me we had company?”

“Because they’ve just arrived, dear. This is Carliss, Salina, and Ganoaf.”

Petolemew greeted each of them with a broad smile and a hearty handshake. “My, you’re a large fellow aren’t you?” he said to Ganoaf.

Ganoaf smiled and grunted.

Salinas brow furrowed. “I thought you knew Ganoaf already.”

Eunice shook her head as if to shush her.

“Mister Petolemew, this is Sir Dalton,” Carliss escorted him over to the cot. “He’s very sick, and I didn’t know where to go for help. Can you help him?”

The smile on Petolemew’s face quickly diminished, and he bent over to look more closely. “What happened to him?”

“He was bitten by a strange lizard. He became delirious almost immediately.”