“The charm, or the shape you make in your mind,” Inis said, looking sharply at her, more focused on the moment than I had yet seen him. “The spearpoint ap Gwien spoke of is the shape your mind makes to reach. If something is preventing people making that shape, that is just mind clouding.”
“If it is clouding minds all over Segantia, why isn’t it affecting Cinvar’s wounded?” Emer asked.
I had not thought of that before. “Maybe Morthu has taught them a different charm,” I said. “Arling said he was a holy man; he must have done something to get that reputation. If the shape of the usual charm is being blocked then a different charm might work.”
“Can Rowanna find a different charm?” Emer asked.
“Rowanna?” Teilo frowned. “It will be very hard for her, but I will help her if necessary. I was hoping we might find somebody who knows a different charm. Do you know any other charms that might work? Do you think Ohtar might? How about you, ap Allel?”
“I have never made much study of healing,” Emer said.
I tried to remember. Every charm I knew seemed so specific, and useless for anything else.
“The elder charm for health,” Inis said, his voice remote.
I looked at him cautiously. “The charm that begins ‘The elder tree grows near the water’s edge’?” I asked, trying not to make it sound like a question. It was a charm Garah had taught me, not one of my mother’s. “But it is no protection from weapon-rot, it is just a charm for strength against sickness. I sing it over people who are ailing, to help them recover.”
“It keeps infection from striking when someone is laid low,” Inis said.
“I thought you said this was not a disease,” Emer said, frowning.
“It is not a disease,” Teilo said. “Disease does not strike the wounded. And that we would know how to deal with. Let us try this elder charm and see if it helps the wounded.”
We started to walk on down toward the tents ap Darel had set up for the wounded of my ala. When we got there it was clear that things were worse even than they had been that morning. The moans and restless cries of the wounded came to us even from outside, and the air was heavy with the smell of sickness.
My trumpeter, Berth, happened to be the first of the wounded we came to. He was lying on a bed of bracken, in a light and uneasy sleep. The gash on his leg was bound up, but his flesh was swollen angrily red, even outside the bandages. “It would take tremendous power to do a spell that affects everyone like that,” Emer said, looking at it.
“He has never had any hesitation about killing for power,” Inis said.
“Who?” I asked, forgetting not to ask direct questions.
“The black-hearted poison-tongued son of the witch-queen who has courted pus to do this thing,” Inis replied, unwinding the bandage to reveal poor Berth’s festering cut. Berth stirred and muttered in his sleep, but did not wake. I wished Inis would tell Urdo that it was Morthu who had done it.
I put everything out of my mind except the need for healing. I put my hand on Berth’s shoulder and sang the elder charm, which addresses the Lord of Healing as Rhis, planter of the elder tree, most beneficial of all trees for the making of medicines, asking for strength and protection against infection, and a return to ease and health. I put Berth’s name into the charm, and my own, and called on the Lord of Healing with all my heart. I felt tired when I finished, but I had felt my call being answered.
Berth opened his eyes and looked at me. “Lord Sulien,” he said, and then he yawned. “I am terribly thirsty,” he said. Emer quickly brought water for him, and as he drank it I looked at his leg. It looked much like the scratch on my arm, a cut that was being slow to heal. The skin was pink and a little shiny, but the puffiness and festering had gone out of it.
“I will tell Flerian you are feeling better,” I said as we left Berth to move on down the tent.
“She will come to see me later; she is a good girl,” he said. “I will tell her you healed me. Thank you, Praefecto.”
I got on with singing the charm over the wounded. I realized after a little while that Inis had moved off to sing the charm himself, where he was most needed. Teilo listened to me singing the charm a few more times before she moved ahead to sing it for herself. Emer stayed with me, her lips moving. As I left the side of a woman who seemed to me to be dying she stopped me.
“That is the hardest charm I ever heard,” she said. “I am not usually slow at learning such things, but the words and tune of that one seem to run straight out of my head. I am no use here; I will go and see to my troops.”
I found it was the same with ap Darel, when he came to me. He tried his best to learn the charm but could not. I sang it over as many of the wounded as I could that night, and then rolled into my tent very late, absolutely exhausted. It was only when I was lying down quietly that I realized I had forgotten to eat.
The next day I was not wanted at the negotiations. Urdo and Darien came down to my tent and ate breakfast with me. Urdo invited me to eat with them in the evening and hear about the progress of the talks. Then Teilo dragged me off to heal Cadraith’s wounded. It seemed that some of them refused to let her near them, and the rest refused me. Theological arguments were almost as thick in the air of their tents as the flies. I tried to ignore them and concentrate on the charm, but Teilo kept being distracted and drawn into them. Doing the healing tired me much more than it usually would. It was almost evening when I went to visit my own wounded, and found Berth’s slash reddening again and all the work to do over again. I could have wept. Nobody was as bad as they had been the day before, but the wounds all seemed on the point of turning bad again. I sent ap Darel with my excuses to Urdo, and sang the charm until my voice cracked.
I was far down in sleep when Urdo woke me that night. I came awake bone weary from a dream of training long ago. I thought for a moment it was Osvran come to drag me off to a night exercise. I blinked at Urdo while he explained that Raul was sick. “I know you’re tired, but it seems the only people who can sing this charm are you and Teilo and Inis. Teilo is ninety years old and Inis is—”
“An unpredictable loon, and asleep among Atha’s Isarnagans,” I said, sitting up and running my fingers through my hair. “I am coming; there is no need to apologize. I didn’t know Raul was wounded.”
“He’s not,” Urdo said. “That’s what worries me. He has a fever.”
“A fever?” I was still slow with sleep.
“I cannot heal it,” Urdo said, simply.
I pulled a shift over my head and stood up as I stuck my arms through. “Where is he?” I asked.
“In my tent,” Urdo said. We walked through the sleeping camp, answering several challenges from sentries. I was glad to see them so alert. The moon was almost half full and from her position I could tell it was well after midnight. It was chilly, even though it was high summer. I should have brought my cloak. I stifled a yawn.
There was a lantern in Urdo’s tent. Darien sat cross-legged in the circle of light, washing Raul’s face. Raul looked terrible. His skin was almost gray, and looked tight and stretched. I put my hand on his forehead and pulled it away almost as if I had been burned.
“When did he get like this?” I asked. “He was fine yesterday.”
“He fell asleep after dinner,” Urdo said. “I thought he had tired himself out with the negotiations and let him lie where he was.” He indicated the overflowing box of papers where they had been working. “Then he woke me, calling out in the night, and when I came over he was as you see him.”
“He hasn’t been right for days,” Darien said, very quietly. “He hasn’t been eating or sleeping, he’s been driving himself too hard. This fever is new, but he hasn’t been well. He’s been rubbing his head all day as if it aches.”
“I don’t know if the elder charm will do any good,” I warned. “And even if it does, it only seems to work for a time, as I sent ap Darel to tell you earlier.”
I reached out to Raul again and began t
o sing the charm. As soon as I did he opened his eyes and started to struggle feebly. “No,” he muttered. “No. Not her. Never. Tell Father Gerthmol.” I stumbled in the words and hesitated as he fought against my touch.
“Father Gerthmol is in Thansethan,” Darien said calmly, taking hold of Raul’s shoulders. “And he is too old to ride out this far. My mother knows a charm that can heal you.”
“No,” Raul said, struggling against Darien’s hands. “Not her. No heathen charms. The demon. The one-eyed demon!”
“Mother Teilo says the charms are the same,” I said, but he didn’t seem to hear me.
“No!” he said, shrinking back and whimpering.
I looked at Urdo, who sighed tiredly. “I wish you wouldn’t be such a fool, Raul,” he said. “You know Sulien isn’t a demon.”
Raul muttered something with a lot of “No” and “not her” in it, which finished, “Always trying to come between us.”
“Teach me the charm,” Urdo said to me. I sang the charm through, feeling it a very fragile thing against the weight of fever pressing on Raul. Strangely, my singing it without touching him seemed to quiet him; he stopped struggling and lay quiet.
Then Urdo put his hand on Raul’s head and sang the charm through, naming both the White God and the Lord of Healing. It was obvious at once that it had helped; Raul’s breathing was easier and his color was almost normal. He seemed to be sleeping gently.
“Did you hear it?” Urdo asked Darien.
“I think so,” Darien said, smoothing Raul’s forehead and drawing a blanket over him. “Why is it so hard to hold onto? I heard it through twice and it is as if the words want to slip out of my mind.”
“I think that’s this curse on Segantia making it difficult,” I said. “I can sing that charm, but it makes me very weary. Emer and ap Darel and the others who have tried couldn’t remember it at all.”
“I am glad I can hold it,” Urdo said. “I can help you with the healing when I am not at the negotiations.”
“I will try,” Darien said. “Do you want me to stay and help with Raul?”
“I think he will sleep,” Urdo said, looking down at his old friend. “I think we should all do the same.”
“I will go back to my tent, then” Darien said. “If you need me again, just call me.”
“You won’t need me either,” I said, standing. “But how did the negotiations go?”
Urdo shook his head. “The only good thing is that they all want to air all their grievances, and it is buying us time. You are doing more good here.”
I could not see Darien’s face now that he was out of the circle of light. “Arling looked like a broken man today,” he said. “We mostly heard Cinvar’s grievances, none of which were worth the air he wasted on them.”
We said good night and I walked back through the sleeping camp to my tent. Dew soaked both the grass and my feet. Even though I was tired it took me a long time to get warm enough to go back to sleep.
— 16 —
Where are my weapons, where are my warriors where are my walls of strong stone set with iron?
— From “Queen Alinn”
The next two days I spent singing charms while people squabbled about theology. How the charm worked or didn’t work; why the charm was hard to learn; the difference between charms, hymns, and praise songs; who could have cursed us and whether we deserved it: all were suddenly subjects of widespread and immediate interest. People who scarcely thought about charms except when they’d cut their finger, lost their blanket, or wanted to light a fire, suddenly had urgent opinions on how they worked. The theory that the White God had turned away from Urdo seemed to be more popular now that Raul was ill. Teilo took his place at the negotiations, which was good, Darien told me, because she bullied Father Cinwil and they made some progress in getting small points settled. This did not compensate me for the loss of her charm-singing ability and theological authority in the sick tents. When the negotiations were over every day, she and Urdo and Darien came in and sang charms until we were all too weary to sing any more.
Others went down with the same sickness Raul had. The elder charm seemed to help, but they remained weak and feverish, and found it hard to digest food. Feeding the invalids was made more difficult by the lack of food. We were in no immediate danger of starvation, but we were down to salt fish and acorn cakes, which are hardly palatable at the best of times. On the second day more supply wagons came in from Caer Segant, which meant we could give them gruel. In the evening of the same day, Luth and ap Erbin arrived with their alae. Ap Erbin seemed more horrified that we were allied with Atha than by the plague. After talking to Urdo about it at great length over dinner, he and Alswith came to my tent to complain about it just as I was going to bed.
“I can’t believe it!” he said. Marriage, or just the passing of time, had caused ap Erbin to gain weight. He looked now as if it would take a very substantial blow to topple him. Combined with his missing ear it gave him the look of a formidable warrior. “You weren’t in Demedia, you don’t understand, but how could Urdo bring himself to do it?”
My hair had come unfastened and was straggling over my face. I pushed it back wearily. “I think you don’t understand the desperation of the situation down here.”
“I do,” he said. “I don’t know why we’re talking instead of fighting, now that the Peace has been broken, but I do see how bad it is. But even so; Atha ap Gren! The soldiers who stoned the White God would be a more popular choice of alliance with my ala.”
“We didn’t invite Atha in, as Urdo already told you,” I said. “She just came. And we were glad enough to see her on the field. As for why we’re talking, it was to make time for you to come up.” I struggled to swallow a yawn.
“Yes?” Alswith asked. Unlike ap Erbin she seemed almost unchanged since I had last seen her. The flame-colored hair that gave her her usename was bound tightly against her head; she had been wearing her helmet for riding. She frowned. “So why are they talking? Who are they waiting for?”
“That’s a chilling thought,” I said.
“Where is my uncle?” ap Erbin said, leaping on the implication.
“Custennin of Munew remains at home in Caer Thanbard, so far as anyone knows, and Thurrig is with him,” I said.
“I suppose they could be waiting for Marchel,” Alswith said.
“I have no idea where she is, but I don’t think she could bring enough force to make any difference, unless she has fresh troops from Narlahena,” I said. “We broke her alae pretty thoroughly; she doesn’t have more than a couple of pennons worth of armigers.”
“Fresh troops from Narlahena might land at Caer Thanbard,” ap Erbin said. “I should ask Urdo if he wants me to go down there and talk some sense into my uncle.”
“If he would risk as much,” Alswith said, biting her lip.
Ap Erbin put his arm around her. “Urdo knows my loyalties,” he said.
“He must have thought he knew Angas’s,” Alswith said. “Sulien, I can see you’re exhausted, but do you think we’ll attack tomorrow?”
“You’ll have to ask Urdo. I’ve been up here all day,” I said. “But Alfwin should be here in three or four more days. Also the militia of Derwen are on their way; they should be here soon. Urdo said something about being able to agree to fight even if we couldn’t agree to make peace.”
“I could go to Caer Thanbard and back in four days,” ap Erbin said.
“You’ll have to talk to Urdo,” I said, and yawned.
“Does he really think they’ll agree to give back the queen?” Alswith asked dubiously.
“I think Urdo still hopes he might split their alliance if they can only see sense,” I said. “What we must avoid is anything that would split ours.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t insult Atha to her face,” ap Erbin said, picking up my meaning immediately. “If Urdo says we need her, then we do. But it’s a bad pass if it’s come to this, fighting our old friends with our old enemies at
our side.”
“I wonder if Angas feels the same,” I said, and felt sure that he did. I still wished I could speak to Angas.
Urdo must have told ap Erbin he was needed at the talks, because that was where the two of them spent the next few days. The work with the wounded became a little less terrible as some of them recovered. As long as someone sang the elder charm over them daily they healed slowly and naturally. I still spent all my time at it, but it felt less like trying to dam a river with a pair of stirrups. On the second day after ap Erbin came in, Raul was well enough to leave the sick tent. On the third day Alfwin arrived, and so did the militia of Derwen. I was glad to see them. With all this force of infantry we were as strong now as the other side. Urdo thought so, too. The day after that he spent the day thrashing out an agreement for a pitched battle to be fought the next day. They were arguing over location, Raul told me when he came up briefly to fetch some maps.
Rowanna came down to the sick tent to remind me to be ready for her feast that night. In the alae the custom was to feast after battle, not before it, but she had argued that the militia of Segantia would expect to feast before. Urdo had agreed, on condition that she arranged everything and provided the food. She had been fussing about it ever since. I looked down at my clothes, stained with blood and worse things from the sick tents, and agreed that I would come, as befitted the dignity of my position.
In the afternoon, when Urdo was still at the truce talks, Garah arrived.
Masarn came to the sick tent to fetch me. He waited until I had finished singing the charm then put his hand on my shoulder. “Sulien, can you come with me please? It’s an emergency.”
I knew immediately that something was really wrong, because he said the words without even the lightest touch of irony. I washed my hands in the bowl ap Darel insisted on bringing me. It made no difference, of course, as the plague was not a disease, but it hurt nothing. Ap Darel said it raised the patients’ hearts, and anything that did that was worth the bother. I followed Masarn out of the tent, leaving behind me a rising murmur of speculation. “What is it?” I asked.