The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare (32 page)

Stewart ran to an outer room and checked the window. “M’lady, I dinna ken where the night has gone to, but it is dawn; the sky is just beginning to brighten, and the birdies are already up.”

She nodded and reached for the paper on which she had written down Tvrdik’s instructions. “Earlier, when he was more lucid, Tvrdik suspected something like this could happen, and told me of several powerful remedies back at Xaarus’ Cottage that he was sure would help. Some are in bottles, others fresh in the front garden. Stewart, you know the place, how to get in, where things are; Warlowe can help you gather the items and carry them back here. I couldn’t send you out there in the dead of night, but go now – be thorough and be quick – we might be fighting for his life.”

Warlowe took the paper and studied it to make sure it was clear, “My lady, we will be as fast as we can be, but I think it might also be time to wake the Palace Physician. You have done all you can alone.”

“Agreed. He promised to return in the morning. I would characterize this as a crisis worthy of hastening his steps a bit.” She caught the servant’s eye, “Would you be so good as to go and rouse the healer, and send him here quickly? If he grumbles, blame it on me, and say you were ordered…” The servant nodded, wide-eyed, and disappeared through the door. Stewart and Warlowe departed right behind her, waving back at Rel in reassurance.

Left alone again with Tvrdik, she sighed and sat in the chair, applying ice and cool cloths to his face, trying to slip ice chips into his mouth, and feeling helpless. He was shivering now at intervals, teeth chattering. His color was an odd grey-green, and his eyes were dark smudges burnt into his face. She didn’t think his spare frame, weakened by blood loss, could take much more of this. And yet, he was young and strong, had survived alone in the woods all those years without the benefit of the simplest comforts. Perhaps she was underestimating his resilience and tenacity of will. Despite herself, she smiled, thinking that Tvrdik was a person it was easy to underestimate, and that he had already proved full of surprises.

These thoughts heartened her somewhat as she awaited the physician’s arrival for what seemed like an eternity. When he finally came, a bit rumpled and cross after being rousted from bed so early, he took one look at the situation and apologized for not being there sooner. He praised her efforts thus far, impressed by her resourcefulness in tackling the fever. Then he shook his head and looked grim, stating that he had seen circumstances like this on many occasions, and that there was not much more anyone could do at this point but wait and pray. He un-bandaged and examined the wound area, making a sound with his tongue that indicated that his worst fears had been realized. “The infection probably started deep inside where we could not clean properly, and has spread already. It is no wonder it has hit him so hard. When did the delirium start?”

Rel thought. “I was just talking to him a little after midnight. He was weak and uncomfortable, and his face was beginning to be hot. I think it turned for the worse maybe two or three hours later. I dozed, and was awakened by his cries. I couldn’t even rouse him.”

The doctor did a quick calculation in his head, “We should know very soon which way this is going. The ice probably helped to keep his body temperature below lethal levels. Still, you should be prepared for the worst.”

“I refuse to accept that possibility, sir. There must be something else we can try?” She was beginning to feel desperate. The man sighed and shook his head, but then he took a long swab with a soft, gauzy end out of his bag, rolled it in some sort of copper colored salve with a strong odor, and inserted it deep into the suppurating wound, twisting it. This elicited such a shriek of pain that Rel’s eyes welled up and she backed away.

“Sorry,” the healer explained. “I knew that would be difficult, but we needed to try to get to the internal tissue.” He laid the pad gently back over the wound, but did not replace the bandage for the moment. Shortly thereafter, Stewart and Warlowe dashed in with a basket of items from Xaarus’ house and garden. Winded, they almost knocked the physician over in their enthusiasm.

“Here we are,” Warlowe panted. “The gods grant that we have the right medicines.” He held up a bottle of brownish liquid, and a bigger blue bottle. “According to the paper, this one is to swallow, this other one must be poured or dabbed on the wound, and these leaves should also be crushed between fingers and packed onto the affected area. Stewart glanced at the physician, and then barked once in agreement, standing tall with legs planted and tail swishing back and forth. Rel leapt to her feet and reached for the first bottle, but the healer intervened.

“Hold on a moment! What do you think you are doing with those?” he exclaimed indignantly.

“Apologies, sir, but the patient is something of a healer himself, and earlier told me to send for these items which can combat fever and infection,” Rel tried to explain politely, even though her patience after the last twenty-four hours had grown thin.

“Well, you can just give them over here. I have treated kings and courtiers; I think I know what I am doing better than some upstart folk apothecary.” He was working himself into a dither of righteous indignation.

Rel held the basket out of his reach, drew herself up to her full height and addressed the petulant man in her most commanding tone. “Sir, while I respect your knowledge and gifts, and very much appreciate your efforts so far, I am afraid you will have to indulge me on this small point. You have already informed me that there is little else you can do, and I want this man alive. Therefore, I am willing to try any options that may present themselves. These certainly cannot make matters any worse than they already are, and there is a chance they might actually help.”

The wounded healer retreated, bowing with a sullen expression. “As you wish, my lady.” He watched from a distance as the others fumbled with the tinctures, potions and leaves, according to Tvrdik’s own instructions. Softened some by their obvious and desperate dedication, he stepped back in to show them how to properly crush the leaves, re-apply the bandages correctly and fasten them securely. He then announced that he had a few other patients to attend to, and that he would like to be excused to make rounds and return in an hour or two to check on Tvrdik’s progress.

“If there is a sudden turn for the worse, I will be in the palace, and you can send for me,” he offered. Attempting to mend fences, Jorelial Rey replied that she understood, thanked him again, and gave him his leave. Now there really was nothing left to do but wait. While the servants, who had slipped quietly in, bustled about, fetching fresh water and cloths, piling up clean blankets and taking away damp ones, Tvrdik’s three angels sank down wearily, Jorelial Rey in the big easy chair near his head, Stewart on the floor at the foot of the bed, and Warlowe in a straight chair on the other side of the room. They were spent and worried, and spoke not a word aloud during the vigil that followed, though many a meaningful glance was exchanged. Rel held the young wizard’s hand, and periodically wiped his brow with the cool, damp cloth. At one point, a kind servant pressed a cup of warm tea into her hand, but she did not recall drinking it. Warlowe dozed on and off in his uncomfortable chair, and Stewart was the soul of canine faithfulness, head on paws, eyes fixed on his friend. The only sounds in the room were the creak of the bed when Tvrdik tossed and turned, and the fevered moaning and mumbling they had grown used to, punctuated on occasion by some loud and incomprehensible exclamation. They had no sense of how long things went on in this manner; an hour or two, perhaps longer. Suddenly, Stewart lifted his head, ears erect, and whispered, “Listen. D’ye all hear that?”

“What?” replied Jorelial Rey, who had been drifting.

“Just listen…” They all held their breath a moment, trying to focus, and slowly, gradually perceived what the dog had first noticed: the blessed, miraculous sound of silence. No creaking, thrashing, moaning, mumbling, or crying out. Seconds went by, and then minutes, and nothing interrupted that glorious vacuum. And then came the sweetest sound any of them had ever heard – the sound of snoring! Loud, rhythmic, blatant snoring. All three of them jumped up, cheering and laughing in relief, and fell upon one another with embraces and hearty claps on the back.

They all raced to Tvrdik’s side, and Rel laid her hand on his forehead.

“Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but it feels to me like his skin is cooler to the touch.”

Warlowe also checked, “No, you are right, and he’s sleeping comfortably for the first time in hours.’

Stewart chimed in, “I think we’re past the worst of it, M’lady. The crisis is over.”

“Good old Xaarus,” she mused, “and thank you both for your trust and quick action. Likely it made all the difference.” Warlowe led her gently away from the bed, “My lady, you have been up with him all night and there are important tasks ahead for you this day. Now that he has turned a corner, we can take it from here. Why don’t you go into the drawing room and try to get a few hours of rest? I daresay you are overdue.”

She looked at him with gratitude, then back to their patient, his chest rising and falling in regular rhythms, “You’re both sure?”

Stewart replied, “Go on, M’lady. The healer will return soon and give an official verdict, and we’ll stay with him until then.”

“Alright. I
am
fading.” She grabbed a blanket off of the fresh pile that had been brought in, and dragged it into the adjoining room. Casting about for a comfortable place to fall, she pulled all the stuffed cushions from the chairs in the room onto the floor in a formless heap, wrapped herself in the blanket, and lowered herself into the soft mass, curling up like a small child on its mother’s lap. Half a moment of rearranging pillows under her head and hips and she was already gone into oblivion.

NINETEEN
Secrets Revealed

J
ORELIAL REY WAS AWAKENED BY
a sharp tugging at one of her sleeves, and an oddly accented voice at her ear, “My rady, wake ub! Cub an’ see, my rady.”

It was Stewart, her sleeve in his mouth as he attempted to address her. He seemed agitated. She blinked and tried to prop her achy frame on the pile of cushions she had slept on. It did not happen without a few choice words at the stiffness in her muscles. But the dog was impatient and insistent.

“What is it, Stewart? Something gone wrong?”

“No, no, m’lady, all’s well.” He had dropped the sleeve as she sat up, and sounded more like himself.

“How long have I been out?” she questioned, still trying to focus.

“Just three hours, mum; we hated to wake you, but it is almost high noon, and there is a sight just beyond that will warm yer heart. Aye, that it will. Come with me.”

She scrambled to her feet, stretching out her limbs, and smoothed her hands over her sleep-swollen face and hopelessly wrinkled clothing. “Dragonsbreath,” she muttered, and then stumbled after the bounding dog, back into the bedroom. There, sitting up in bed, and being spoon-fed broth by a servant, was Tvrdik. His face was haggard, but there was color in his cheeks as he sipped the hot liquid. Hearing them come in, he turned and nodded to her, then broke into a sheepish grin. “I was a little hungry….”

Jorelial Rey shrieked in delight, and Stewart let out a howl, the two of them dancing around the room. At that moment, the big hound could not resist licking her face in his exuberance, even though she was the Lady Regent of all of Eneri Clare. Tvrdik frowned, “Did I miss something?”

Rel came to his side, a broad smile lighting her face, “Yes, almost everything. We thought you were a goner, but here you are having breakfast. It’s just too wonderful. Here, let me do that – go and get some well-deserved rest.” She took the steaming bowl and spoon from the servant, who curtsied and made her exit. Rel sat down by the patient and offered him another spoonful, as Stewart filled her in.

“The doctor has already come and gone and pronounced him officially on the mend. Ye should have seen the way he scratched his head, and the mystified look on his face when he saw how improved our patient was. I think he will be givin’ ye his apologies, missy, and that for certain. Master Warlowe has already gone to his post, the two young folk stopped in to visit, and are, by now gone off on their weddin’ trip, and if ye don’ mind, I’ll be takin’ my leave of ye also. There are a few things out in the world that I should be attendin’ to.”

“Go on, Master Stewart, with my blessing and my profound thanks. I don’t know that I could have gotten through this night without your support. You will be hearing from me.”

Tvrdik waved his good hand, “Farewell, friend. I am in your debt. Take good care, and I hope to see you soon at the house…”

“Och, I’ll be comin’ ‘round here to check on ye before that, long as it’s alright with you, m’lady?” She nodded and smiled, and the wolfhound made her a graceful bow, trotting off through the door of her apartments, which the serving girl had left partly ajar.

Jorelial Rey got up and crossed to shut the door tightly behind him, then came back and settled herself in the big chair at Tvrdik’s side. He took another spoonful of soup, and frowned again, “Everyone is making such a fuss.”

Rel rolled her eyes, “You have no idea. Your wound was badly infected, and the fever took you. You were miserable and delirious all night, and we thought we had lost you. The palace healer near threw up his hands, but I sent Warlowe and Stewart at first light for the things you suggested from Xaarus’ cottage. We used those, and anything else we could think of, but we didn’t know if any of it would turn the tide. And look, here you are!”

“Well, not quite ready to run a race yet, but far from dying.”

“You can’t imagine how relieved I am to hear that.”

“Were you here all night then? I am sorry…”

“It’s alright. I suppose I owe you something for saving my life, and besides, if you think I am about to face Lord Drogue any time soon without my secret ace, you are mistaken.”

Tvrdik’s eyes drifted down. “Oh.” he said, a little dejectedly. Realizing how impersonal she must have just sounded, Rel went on. “I see, however, that your sense of humor has tragically passed away during the night…” When he looked up at that, she gave him a cheerful wink, which elicited a brighter expression. He pushed away the spoon.

“I think I’ve had enough for now. Could I have a bit of water? And do you see my eyeglasses lying about anywhere? I am lost without them.”

Ah
, she thought,
he’s asking for his glasses. He must be better indeed
. She stood, put the soup bowl down on a table, and gave the room a quick once over.

“There they are, on the bureau.” She strode over to retrieve them, found a clean cloth to wipe off the lenses, and presented them to him. “All in one piece, nary a scratch.”

Tvrdik held them in his hands for a moment and muttered, “Bless these, and the assistance they give to me.” Then he slid them onto his face, adjusting the wire over the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, my!” he exclaimed, “That’s much better. I feel more myself now. Oh! You look terrible.” The words escaped his mouth before thought could catch them. “I – I mean, you must have had a difficult night…”

Jorelial Rey raised an eyebrow, “You try getting up before dawn, participating in a wedding
and
a coronation, narrowly escaping death by being hurled to the stone stoop, reassuring the citizens, interviewing the perpetrator, greeting guests at a banquet, and then sitting up all night with a friend you think you’ve probably killed, and then see if you look as fresh and lovely as a lily. And, by the way, you aren’t likely to win any beauty contests this morning yourself either.” She glared at him with an exaggerated angry face, but it made her look so ridiculous, that they both burst into laughter. Jorelial filled two of the wooden cups with cool water from a fresh pitcher the servants had brought, and handed one to Tvrdik. She urged him to lean forward, and rearranged his pillows into a more cozy, supportive nest. After draining the cup, he settled back on them with a sigh. She refilled it and gave it to him again, picking up the other for herself. For several minutes they sat in companionable silence, sipping water. And then, with feigned nonchalance, Jorelial Rey asked, “Who is Ailianne?”

“Pardon?” Tvrdik started, and almost spilled his cup.

“Ailianne. You kept calling out that name all night. Just wondered. Perhaps it is someone I may send for?”

There was a long pause, Tvrdik staring into the wooden cup, and then, in a low voice, measuring his words, he answered, “Ailianne was one of the other students in Xaarus’ school. The only female. We grew up together.”

“You were in love with her?” Rel prodded. Another long pause.

“I think I would have said so then. We were so young, how could I have truly known? She was very beautiful, and bright, and talented. And the only girl I ever had contact with at all. She was always kind to me, as a schoolmate, even a friend, I suppose. But, beyond that, I don’t think she ever knew I existed. There never was anything between us.”

“You could have tried to remedy that…”

“I – I never had the chance. Ailianne was too curious, too hungry for power. Her mistakes cost her her life. She has been gone a very long time…” Tvrdik’s narrative drifted off.

“Oh, I am so sorry.” Rel had just remembered that part of Tvrdik’s story and regretted her own blunder, “I had forgotten. I didn’t mean to open an old wound…”

“No, no. I’m just embarrassed. I guess there must be a part of me that won’t let go of those memories.”

Neither spoke for a beat, and Jorelial Rey let her mind drift. Then, “Memories can be sweet. There was a young man I fancied once for a little while, when I was about Delphine’s age. He was the son of some foreign dignitary who stayed at Theriole one summer. He was tall and dark with smoldering eyes that were always staring at me hungrily. I think I rather liked it. He was so handsome and exotic.”

Tvrdik watched her rekindle the sensations of that part of her young life, and felt a pang of bittersweet sympathy for the lonely young girl just emerging into womanhood. He wished that he’d had the opportunity to have known her better back then. She went on.

“That summer there were many balls to celebrate one thing or another – the social events of the season. We danced together, strolled through the gardens, and talked and talked. Later, he sent me a few gifts and some poems he had written just for me. I was besotted with him.”

“What happened?”

“Well, at some point I took him to see Tashroth, of course, Tash being the other half of my heart, and the fool ran off in terror. I never heard from him again. I thought I would die of a broken heart.”

“Poor, poor Jorelial Rey. What a sweet, sad story. I am so sorry for you.”

“Don’t be. He would have made a terrible spouse. What was it Tash called him? A vain, supercilious twit, I think? Tash is always right. Still, it hurt for a time. You know, perhaps that is why I found it hard to take Delphine’s relationship with Mark seriously. I may have been thinking of what an idiot I was at her age. She is very different from what I was…”

“Mark is a good man.”

“I am finding that out.”

“I wonder what ever happened to your handsome dignitary’s son?”

“Oh, last I heard, he’d married the blonde, buxom daughter of a wealthy landowner with a huge estate, and has three kids already. He’s probably fat and boring and opinionated about everything.”

They both laughed at that, and as their mirth faded, Rel sighed, “I’ve never told that story to anyone before, not even Delphine. Promise me it stays between us.”

“I promise. And I am glad you told me. I enjoyed hearing it, and getting to know a little more about who you are, Jorelial Rey. Xaarus was right.”

“About what?”

“Oh, he said I would find out that we had much more in common than I imagined. I hope that doesn’t offend you?”

“Of course not.” There was another long silence, not entirely unpleasant, but Rel finally looked up to see Tvrdik drooping, the effort of even this short conversation beginning to take a toll. She sat up straight, “Well, much as I would like to sit here with you all day and reminisce, I am supposed to address my Cabinet on the topic of ‘Wizards, Villains, and Creative Warfare’ in less than two hours, and as you so gallantly pointed out, I can hardly appear before them looking like this.”

Tvrdik’s face fell, “I must go with you. You weren’t supposed to have to do that alone…”

“Don’t even think of moving an inch out of that bed – you’ll undo all the good we worked so hard to achieve. Look, I can handle this. I’ll just give them the broad outline, and you can fill in all the details yourself, in person, as soon as you are up to it, agreed?”

“Agreed.” He sighed and sank back, knowing he hadn’t even the strength to sit up at the moment.

“Right now, your only task is to rest and recover, and get your strength back as quickly as possible. I’d rather limp along without you for a few days, if it means you might feel better faster, and without any setbacks. Rest, enjoy this opportunity; soon enough there will be little time for leisure.”

“And here I am in your bed, in your rooms – something else I am taking away from you. That isn’t right.”

“You just stay right there and don’t worry about me. I can arrange to use a spare room for a few nights, and you know I won’t be spending much time in it anyway. As soon as the doctor thinks you can be safely moved, we’ll see about getting you home. Till then, you can hardly blame me for wanting you close by where I can keep an eye on you. I’ll probably come to check in after the meeting, and get your input on how our case is faring so far.”

“I will help you in any way I can.” His voice was weakening and his eyelids were closing involuntarily. She pulled the blankets up around him, and tucked him in.

“Rest now, friend. Sweeter dreams this time.” And as he drifted into slumber, his spectacles still perched on his nose, she set off to prepare herself for the approaching meeting.

It seemed only a heartbeat later, when, having washed up, wolfed down an apple and a fistful of bread and cheese, and dressed for business, Jorelial Rey stood before her Cabinet of closest advisors, lords and Ministers, twelve to be precise, and cleared her throat. Looking from face to eager face, she paused to summon her courage and collect her thoughts. These men were, after all, her support system, not her enemies.
Truth and commitment; truth and commitment
, she repeated over and over in her mind. She took a deep breath, thought,
Daddy, if you could ever help me from wherever you are, now would be a good time,
and then she told them. Pretty much the whole story. There were things she finessed or omitted because she did not feel they needed to know the private details of Tvrdik’s emotional journey. In her version, after Xaarus’ mysterious disappearance, Tvrdik went off to continue his studies and to practice in distant reaches of the kingdom, until the day that Xaarus’ image came to recruit him. She explained how he had made the trip back to speak with her, as per Xaarus’ instructions, and how he had accurately predicted everything that had occurred at the High Council, including her election as permanent regent, and Lord Drogue’s threats. She told how he had convinced her that a serious struggle over the fate of Eneri Clare was imminent, but that the stakes were even higher than what would happen in their lifetimes alone. She tried to explain Tvrdik’s assertion that the only way they could truly triumph was by unconventional means. Up to that point, no one had spoken, interrupted, or commented. But when she tossed out that key piece of information, she heard gasps, and saw the lords shift in their seats and exchange meaningful looks. She went on to tell how she had installed Tvrdik in the old house that had belonged to Xaarus, which he had been restoring with his own hands. Also, how he had been secretly watching over her as an owl, both at the High Council, and at the Coronation. Finally, and with some emotion, she related what they already partly knew – that he had acted quickly to propel her out of harm’s way the day before, and been gravely wounded. She told them how she had sat up with him most of the night, fearing he might perish, and realizing the enormous negative impact that could have on all of their futures. Without at least one mage, and one who could contact Xaarus at that, they hadn’t a prayer of defeating Drogue either in the conventional or in the more unorthodox manner.