Rohvim #1: Metal and Flesh (18 page)

“Is this all right?” Betha asked.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Betha.” Rupert’s thin wiry frame bowed low to the girl, who nodded and playfully curtsied in response.

“All right, let’s start down in the field, and everyone else can watch from these steps.” Aeden followed Rupert out of the amphitheater down into the grassy area. After a ways, he stopped, and the pale bony boy turned to face the now very broad and muscular Aeden.

“You look the same.” Aeden remarked.

“What else would I look like?”

“Um, I don’t know. When do we start?”

“Now!” And with that, the wiry boy instantly transformed into a crocodile that writhed in midair and snapped at Aeden, who had raised his arm in surprise to ward it off. The powerful jaws ripped his arm clean off at the elbow. Aeden cried out in horror, but stopped when he realized it didn’t hurt in the slightest, and as he looked at his stump of an arm, it regrew to its normal proportions the instant he willed it so. He then willed it to keep growing until he was holding a giant war hammer. For added measure, he grew his whole body three times larger until the snapping crocodile waddled around at his feet as a kitten. Laughing in triumph he brought the hammer forcefully down upon the lizard, which scurried away just in time so that only its tail was crushed. The tailless crocodile grew a new tail, then scaly wings, and flew up and away from the giant Aeden, wheeling through the air, dodging the swings of the giant hammer. It grew larger, and larger, and in moments, the giant man seemed to the dragon a rag doll, and as it came about, it opened its mouth and breathed a stream of purple flame at Aeden. Thinking nearly too late, the hammer flattened out into a large shield that absorbed most of the flame, but the heat wrapped around it and ignited his clothing and hair. Looking around himself, he made a dash for the stream flowing away from the waterfall, and jumped in just in time as the great scaly dragon made another pass, snapping its jaws moments too late as it flew past.

Aeden swam down to the stream bottom, flames now extinguished, and took a moment to think. Above him in the air, he saw the dragon circling around for another go at him. Deciding his next strategy, he crouched down, and dragon’s legs sprung him up above the water’s surface and into the air. He sprouted wings, and, approaching the other dragon from below, opened his mouth and sprayed, not fire, but a green, sticky liquid at the other beast. The mass of green struck the other dragon, and its wings stuck to its body. It squirmed, and, as it began to fall, the Aeden-dragon’s arm grew into a large human arm holding a giant, wicked looking sword. The two dragons met in midair, one rising, one falling, and the sword sliced upward, chopping the falling dragon’s head clean off. In the same motion, the dragon still sporting a head lurched at the free falling dragon head and snapped it up into its mouth. The head grew its body back instantly, and with its newly grown tail, now with massive spikes sprouting out, swatted upward at the green Aeden-dragon’s head, puncturing its throat and cheek.

Surprised, Aeden released Rupert and flew off, devising his next strategy. He turned in midair, and exposed his back to the pursuing Rupert-dragon, off which flew a hundred newly formed arrow-like quills, as if from a porcupine. The arrows collided with Rupert, nearly tearing him to shreds, but he shielded his head with his dragon wing. As he fell, he shrunk in to the form of a hawk, and with arrows now absorbed or fallen, he shot away, many times faster than a normal hawk. He darted here and there faster than Aeden could even turn his eyes to track it. The hawk suddenly flew straight at him and sliced the dragon in half, the bird glistening in the sunlight as if made of pure steel. With the speed of lightning, it returned and sliced again, and again, all in the space of less than a second. The hawk kept coming on, this time aiming for his head, and before Aeden knew what hit him, his head was in half, the world around him jarringly replaced itself with a hot summer sun and a small circle of young people surrounding the beautiful girl on whose head their hands were gently laid.

He shook his head and blew out his held breath. He put his hand back on Betha’s head, paused a moment to look at her adoringly, and then re-entered her mind.

Chapter Eleven

“…a land I have prepared for thee, far away, in the west, over plain and over river Zouree. There my people thou shalt lead, and there my people shall dwell all the days of their lives…” –Burdens of Galen, 14:14

The duel over, the young people returned to their activities around the campfire, laughing and playfully taunting each other all the while. Aeden, licking his wounded pride, sulked some distance from the fire, alternating glaring at Rupert, eyeing Betha—whenever her back was turned, of course, and just in general feeling a foul mood. Thoughts of his father crept into his mind. He half hated and half loved the old man, but in death the love overwhelmed. The image from his dreams of the bloodied corpse laying in the hallway with strange stone-faced men and women standing over him replayed itself over and over in his mind. He hated himself that he did not stay, did not rush to the castle to rescue his father, did not return to the Markham estate in time to save his sister. He felt a surge of resentment towards the master healer for urging him to run from the city and escape to safety.

A man came running up to the group of young people. “Clara has arrived!” A cheer went up from the small crowd.

 “Finally, Clara is here!” cried Wesley.

 “She’ll know what to do.” nodded Yeardley, another young woman who frequented the grove.

“Is she coming here now?” asked Betha.

“Yes,” the man answered. “She is right behind me, with more of our number.” Off in the distance towards the city, they could make out a small group of people approaching. In five minutes, the newcomers arrived—various older men and women, surrounding a silver haired, kindly looking lady. She dressed well, with no weapons in sight, but she unquestionably exuded strength, passion and confidence.

 She came forward to the assembled crowd. “My children.” She smiled at them all, looking around the group, resting her eyes on every person one by one as she spoke. “Thank you all for coming. It is comforting to know that in trying times such as these, I can count on the best to win the day. As you all know, our kingdom is under attack. We believe the invading army has come from the north, though it came upon us so suddenly that little else is known about it. The master healer is on his way from Elbeth now, and will undoubtedly know more than I. For now, let us continue whatever preparations we can make for the events that will follow in the days ahead. We, as those who know our true natures, will most assuredly be at the lead of whatever defense may be made. My sources close to the king indicate that he is most closely concerned with the defense of the kingdom, and has no thought to taking the fight to the enemy—for it is still unknown who our enemy is. But he has a limited knowledge of our society, and has asked that we assist in whatever way we can to stop this great evil. So with that, I say: prepare. Comfort each other. Strengthen each other. Hone your craft such that when the day comes, you are proved worthy of your birthright as those who know themselves.” And with that, she extended her arms to them all, and bowed low. She then passed into the crowd of young people and began grasping hands and hugging those she had been already been acquainted with—including Betha. The two fully embraced, Betha smiling large and giving Clara a kiss on the cheek. The older woman kissed her forehead and the two chatted for a few seconds before Clara’s attention was diverted elsewhere.

Aeden sidled up to Frederick. “So that’s Clara, huh?”

Frederick nodded. “Yep. She’s pretty great. She’ll know what to do.”

“Where has she been this whole time? Doesn’t she stay at the healer’s hall? Isn’t that headquarters?”

“Oh, she’s often there, but she travels a lot around the kingdom—her skills are in high demand, mostly from the nobility since it is thought that she is the best. And really, she is.”

“Hello, my son! And who might you be?” Aeden whipped around and saw the stately woman bearing down on him. He bowed low.

“Greetings, Lady Clara. Lord and Lady Whitehall tell me wonderful things of you. I am Aeden Rossam, of Elbeth.”

Her eyes grew wide, but a smile spread over her face. “Oh, praise the Creator, someone made it out alive. And nobility, no less! Tell me, son, did you sustain any injuries in your escape?”

“Well, I did take a sword through the shoulder. But I think it’s mostly better now—the master healer patched me up pretty good.”

“I see he did. But wounds like these can heal improperly if only given swift treatment. Will you allow me to … put the finishing touches on my colleague’s work? It won’t take but a moment.” She raised her arm, but waited for his assent, which he gave. She placed the outstretched arm on his head, and felt her enter. He pushed inward, and followed her.

He projected an orchard of fruit trees, cut through by a flowing stream. He summoned his mind’s wall, and it shimmered into place before them, a tall, muscular teen and an even taller, majestic older woman. She glanced up at the wall and looked left and right, examining it. She walked several paces to the left, placed her hand on a screen, and began adjusting a few knobs.

There! All done. You were mostly well—the wound had healed correctly, I just gave it a few adjustments so that all feeling in your arm will be preserved and no loss of the range of motion will result.

Thank you, my lady.
Aeden bowed to her again.

Did you accompany others on your sojourn from the beleaguered city of Elbeth?

Yes. My mother, and about thirty others of the noble houses of the city.

Very fortunate indeed. I am glad you all made it out and could bring us word so quickly. You are blessed with foresight.

It wasn’t my idea at all. The master healer suggested that we come here.

Did he? He is … well. Let’s just say we’d be in an even more dangerous position without him around. Thank the heavens I met him all those years ago.

How did you two meet, ma’am. If you don’t mind me asking. And if you’re not too busy, of course.

Busy? Of course I’m busy. But fortunately in here, we have all the time in the world. It was over a century ago, and I had known of my rohva nature for many years, having discovered it after many great ordeals which I will tell you about later. He had just discovered his, and was wondering about, advertising his services as a healer. I watched him come into my town and begin touching people’s heads with his hands, and I just knew. Here is another with the true knowledge, I thought, and decided to introduce myself. He was overjoyed that there were others with his knowledge, as was I, and we started meeting together often to explore our natures. In time, we told a few others we deemed … trustworthy, and founded the society of healers.

Who else did you start the society with?

Oh, let me think. It was me, the master healer, Joanna, Cassie, and Alastair.

Alastair! That’s my father’s name.

Oh, how wonderful. I shall have to meet him!

Aeden’s smile fell.
Well, he was killed in the attack on Elbeth.

Clara’s face filled with concern for him.
My dear boy. I’m so sorry.
And put her arms around him tightly.

And my sister, Cassandra.
The woman said nothing for a several moments and just held him.

She pulled back, and wiping away a stray tear said,
You have suffered much. And we will do something about it. Tomorrow, we will make our plans. For now, though, go home and rest. Be with your dear mother.

He nodded, the woman squeezed him again, and then disappeared. He followed.

Clara turned to leave, and one of her older companions announced, “The master healer approaches the city tonight, and on the morrow a council will be held. All members of the society are bidden to attend. It will be held at the Healer’s hall at midmorning.” Clara and her attendants then bid them goodbye and began their walk back to the city. The young people began chattering excitedly. Aeden approached Betha, who was talking to Darla. He patiently waited for a pause in their conversation.

“So who is Clara?” he asked, when they looked up at him.

Darla responded, “She’s only the most awesome rohva ever!”

Betha nodded, “She is the founder of the society of healers. It was she that introduced many of us to our true natures, and even the master healer acknowledges that she is greater than he in skill and knowledge.”

“What makes her so great? I mean, she seemed pretty impressive, but that’s just by looking at her and listening to her. What has she done?”

Betha rolled her eyes, “She may not have a drop of royal blood in her, your majesty, but that does not stop a commoner from achieving greatness—far greater than any of your ancestors.” She retorted coldly. “She is a legend in our time. Her ability to heal is breathtaking—she works harder at her healing craft than any person in the society—it’s like she’s made it her mission to eradicate disease and sickness in the whole kingdom. Many people attribute the peace and prosperity we’ve enjoyed for close to a hundred years now to her—without her, we’d be like any of the neighboring kingdoms—full of sickness and death and starvation—she must heal at least one hundred people a week. And don’t get me started on her other rohva talents. She discovered at least half of them.”