Ghost's Dilemma (7 page)

Ghost drank the last of the tea and realized he did feel better for having eaten. He stood and stretched.

"For now, I need to talk to the elders about getting a warehouse to isolate and treat the sick." Ghost regarded Gerry with a small smile. "Did you mean it about lending your voice to mine as my alpha?"

Gerry stood and held out his hand to Ghost. "Of course I did. I think they'll have to listen to the both of us, don't you?"

***

Ghost and Gerry walked in silence to the chamber of the elders, next to the gods' house. Ghost was busy rehearsing his request in his mind, hoping the words would not get tangled on his tongue. The warmth of Gerry's hand was welcome when Ghost reached for him.

The door from the antechamber to where the elders waited was open. Ghost and Gerry entered, Ghost peering out from under his lashes. Candles made of the finest beeswax lit the room and gave off a clean scent reminiscent of meadow clover. The walls were whitewashed timber, and the windows diffused the afternoon sunlight. Ghost had never stood before the elders, and he suppressed a nervous giggle. The Eldest sat in the middle while the rest of the elders, usually eight in number, flanked him along one side of a long table of deep red Southron wood. One seat was empty.

"Speak," the Eldest commanded, his voice strong. He reminded Ghost of Merrah for an instant, the way his eyes seemed so much younger despite the deep wrinkles of his weathered face.

"I am Ghost, witch and healer to the village, having been apprenticed to the Witch and found worthy by the witchsisters." Ghost spoke the formal words without stuttering, although his mouth was dry in the face of the influential elders. "I come before you to ask your help in a matter involving the entire village."

The man bowed his head and turned to Gerry. "Why are you here?"

Ghost knew the man was well aware of who Gerry was, but the words had to be said aloud so anyone there to witness events would hear as well. Today, with the epidemic raging, no one watched from the back of the room, but the formalities needed to be observed.

"I am Gerry, an alpha of the village, so acknowledged by you, Eldest. Ghost is my sworn mate before the gods. I come to add my voice to his." Gerry's voice was strong and confident, and Ghost enjoyed a swell of pride in his mate.

The Eldest nodded. "Say what you have come to say, witch."

Ghost took a breath. "A malady is plaguing the village, the likes of which has never been recorded in the histories handed down to me by the Witch. The illness spreads without regard to location or any other obvious means, and this malady afflicts both men and women, young and old. I believe we are facing an epidemic."

The elders shifted in their seats, uneasy. One man dropped his head in his hands, and the elder seated beside him leaned forward.

"One of the elders has fallen sick," the Eldest said in a grave voice. "I am told he has a fever and has been vomiting blood."

Ghost's mouth was dry as dust. "The oldest and the very young are most susceptible. I'll be very honest. I can treat the symptoms of the illness, but I can't cure the patient completely. Eleven people have died already." Ghost took another breath, his hands feeling damp. "I'm seeking a cure. But in the meantime, I think the wisest course of action is to create a central spot for treatment. I'm one witch, and I waste time going from street to street to treat patients and look for more afflicted. Give me an empty warehouse to use. I'll ask the alphas of the patients brought to the warehouse to bring bedding and contribute to feeding the sick."

"Who will help you, since you are only one witch?" The man next to the Eldest, on his right side, spoke.

"People who've been infected and have recovered seem to be immune. Two such women help me already, with the leave of their alpha. Merrah and her daughter, Mai." Ghost tried to remember to breathe as he waited for the Eldest to speak.

"You agree with the witch's request?" The Eldest shifted his attention to Gerry.

"I do. Ghost has been tireless in aiding the sick and seeking answers. He wears himself out trying to be in so many places at once. If I had the space in my own home, I would offer him the use, Eldest. I agree with Ghost strongly." Gerry glanced over at Ghost in encouragement. "No witch could do more than he's done, and now the time has come for us to help him."

The Eldest nodded. "Give us a moment to confer." The rest of the elders concurred in murmurs, and the man who had hidden his face lifted his head, looking weary. The elders all looked tired, and Ghost realized the welfare of the village was as much their concern as his.

Gerry led him back out to the small antechamber, and Ghost took a deep breath.

"Father protect us, they're fucking scary," Ghost whispered. Gerry clapped a hand over his own mouth to stifle a laugh.

"They are," Gerry said, and Ghost relaxed as Gerry's hand cupped his cheek, a tender touch meant to reassure. "But you spoke well, and I think they'll agree. They just need to talk among themselves and settle matters in their own minds."

Ghost let Gerry pull him close, enjoying the feel of Gerry's arms around him. If the elders refused his request, he would need an alternative. He wondered if the godsman would consider letting him use the grounds of the gods' house. Tents would be feeble protection as the weather grew colder, but better than nothing. If the gods smiled on him, Ghost would find a solution long before the true cold set in.

"What are you thinking?" Gerry's breath was hot against his ear.

"I'm thinking we're going to make a very awkward appearance before the elders when we go back in, if you keep holding me so close." Ghost regarded Gerry, pleased to see the answering glint of humor in his eyes. "And I'm thinking about other ways to house the sick if they say no."

"Use our house," Gerry said promptly. "At least for the worst cases. I can stay with Mother and Conn. I'll make sure you have plenty to feed them and lots of wood for the fires. I'll do what I can."

"I can't ask you to make such a sacrifice." Ghost felt a wave of love and gratitude. "I wouldn't even know how long I'd need to house them. I can't ask you to leave our house for an indefinite period of time."

"Don't forget an alpha provides what's needed. If using our house will keep you from running yourself ragged, then we'll use our house." Gerry brushed Ghost's white hair back off his shoulders.

"Thank you," Ghost whispered. "You take such good care of me, even when I don't think I need caring for, or when I'm too busy to think about what I need. I'm so lucky, love."

The creaking of the old door kept Gerry from responding. Ghost reached for his hand as they went back into the elders' chambers and took their places in front of the Southron wood table.

"We have considered your request with great care. Will the warehouse be useful once you are finished using it as an infirmary? You see, we remember the old words too. Lore is not solely the province of the witchsisters." The Eldest watched Ghost with ageless eyes, the wrinkles in his face making his expression unreadable. "But even if the warehouse is no longer of use, is the loss a fair trade if lives can be spared? The epidemic is cruel, and none of us remember an illness taking such a form. So, the malady is a new thing, at least for us, and we would not have it said we did not care for our people."

Ghost tightened his grip on Gerry's hand. The Eldest was asking valid questions, and Ghost couldn't promise the warehouse would not retain whatever was causing the illness. He wouldn't offer a lie solely to get the warehouse. He took a quick breath, prepared to answer. The Eldest spoke again before Ghost could respond.

"The red-doored warehouse on the edge of the market has been vacant since the goods left on the last caravans to the South. If the warehouse can never be used to store goods again, the loss would be acceptable. The building is also suited to your needs, since the warehouse has a small well. The structure was distant enough from the public wells to require a private supply." The Eldest looked at Ghost, and his wrinkled face folded into a smile, or at least Ghost thought he smiled.

"We have a stock of blankets and cots used for the visiting caravan trade. You may have use of those for your infirmary, young witch. You will also be allowed as much in the way of healing herbs and spices as you require." The Eldest glanced at Gerry. "You are a good hunter. A runner or two will feed many, and I am sure others will offer what they can to help. May the Father protect you both, and the Seeker provide you with answers."

"Thank you, Eldest, and all of you elders." Ghost bowed his head, giddy with relief, but before he could turn to leave, the man seated at the right hand of the Eldest spoke.

"Had we not agreed, what would you have done, young witch?" The elder watched him with an expression Ghost could only call predatory.

"My alpha offered our house, for the most afflicted. They would have been given some dignity before their passing." Gerry's hand tightened around Ghost's.

The man turned to the Eldest. "You were right."

"I usually am," the Eldest replied and waved an age-spotted hand at Ghost and Gerry. "Go see to your infirmary. You will want to get the building ready, I am sure. We will have the cots and blankets brought there at once."

Ghost hesitated. "Eldest, can I ask? What were you right about?"

The wrinkled face folded again, creases collapsing into creases. "My young friend here did not think you had the mettle of your mentor. I told him if pressed, you would be just as quick to chastise us as she was. You did not disappoint, Ghost. I am quite pleased. It bodes well for our village to have such a determined witch."

Ghost could almost feel Gerry's amusement behind him. His cheeks grew warm as he turned and tugged Gerry with him as he hurried out.

Chapter 8

Gerry and Ghost left the chamber of the elders and strode across the market to the red-doored warehouse. Men arrived with the promised cots and blankets. Ghost designated a room for the infants and their dams, and a somewhat more spacious room for the elderly. He suspected the older patients would be the larger group. Ghost chose a workroom with a hearth so he could keep heated water ready for both infusions and for washing. A worktable suitable for preparing herbs stood against one wall, and chests for linens and other necessities flanked it.

Ghost asked for a single cot and a brazier to be placed in the small room tucked away in the back. Gerry gave Ghost a quizzical glance, but Ghost didn't offer an explanation. Instead, he added a stool and a little table before closing the door.

It was too late to move any of the afflicted, and Ghost still needed to contact Zereda to see if she knew anything more. He also wanted to tell her what he had learned from the Witch, brief though the contact had been. He even dared hope the Witch would reach out through the scrying mirror to him again and he could find out what she had been about to say.

"Gerry?" Ghost waited until he turned around. "I'd like to go home. I can finish the rest tomorrow."

Gerry looked as though he was about to say something. He stopped, clearing his throat instead. "This plague will work out, Ghost. Isolating the sick will help, and you've reached out for solutions. Have you thought about asking if another witch might be able to come and help? Do you even do anything similar?"

"You mean asking for a witch to come here? To work with me?" Ghost looked at Gerry, wondering why he hadn't thought of the idea himself. Gerry had helped other alphas with building additions to a house, or repairing a fence, when the work was too much for one family. Why couldn't a witch help another witch in the same manner?

"If witches will help each other," Gerry replied. "Another healer would ease the workload on you, and you could agree to return the favor if she ever needed it."

Gerry had proposed a sensible solution, and a weight lifted from Ghost's shoulders. "There's a witchsister here in the Heartlands, not too far from here. I don't really know her all that well, but I can ask her if she can help. She's been friendly whenever we've had contact." He twined his fingers around Gerry's and groaned. "I'll contact her after we eat something. I have to think about food for the infirmary too. For the patients."

"We'll take a look in the meat house to start. I can replace what you take easily enough. The runners are still fat from the harvest leavings and fallen nuts." Gerry led Ghost to the door of the warehouse. "After we eat, I want to ask Mother and Conn to help tomorrow with moving the patients. Maybe we can get Moran and Torrance and Perth from the mead house. Strong backs will move your patients quicker."

Ghost nodded, still thinking about what he had at home in terms of foodstuffs. "I have flour I can spare, some salt, and I can take a little of my yeast. I want soft foods for the sick."

"We'll ask around and see what people will offer too." Gerry sounded confident, and Ghost looked over at him. "The alphas will bring food for their own people. I'll ask Conn if he can spare some eggs."

"I'd appreciate it, love," Ghost said. "Conn and I get along now, but I still sort of freeze when I have to ask him for anything. I'll get past being nervous soon enough, I hope. I'm not nearly as tongue-tied and stupid with Mother. I know Conn was just afraid I was taking you away, and he was jealous. When Bernd had me, Conn tried to save me, and neither one of us is holding a grudge. At least I think we're not. I'm not."

"Mother's an alpha. You've no problem telling alphas what to do. You only get shy around dependents. Or hadn't you noticed? The way you stood up to Moran? Many words describe you, Ghost, but
tongue-tied
and
stupid
don't come close at all. Try
fierce
and
brave
." Gerry's voice was warm with pride.

Ghost's cheeks heated. "I'm not, really. Fierce. I'm just not good at letting people behave like Moran did. And you noticed how he turned around when he found out Sari had a boy. I know his partner only gave him daughters, but I don't see why a son was such a big deal."

"He's got one daughter who's as good with wood as he is." Gerry steered Ghost toward the street leading home. "A few alphas would like to court her."

"Did you ever?" Ghost asked. "Court any daughters?"

Gerry's eyes widened. "What brought this on?" He shook his head. "No, I've never had an interest in women. Some, like Mother, don't mind either way. Not me. The only company I've ever wanted is another man. You, my precious Ghost."

"So you'll never sire a child, then." Ghost didn't quite understand the odd feeling in his stomach.

"Thinking about the babes?" Gerry stopped and turned Ghost around to face him, cupping Ghost's face in his hands. "The Witch herself would tell you, you can't save them all. I know you hurt when you see them losing the struggle and hear their dams crying. I don't know if I could bear having to watch. But at least you and I won't know such pain. Not the pain of losing a child of our bodies."

Ghost shrugged, uncomfortable with his own confusion. "I was remembering what I Saw. But you know, the visions are all muddled up, and what I See isn't always what I imagine it is." He patted Gerry's chest and turned away, reaching for his hand. "Do you think we might take in a dependent or two? Sometime down the road?"

"Ghost," Gerry said, a world of concern in his voice.

Ghost stepped back and turned away, urging Gerry to walk. "At some point I'll want to find an apprentice, you know. I'll want to pass on what I've learned. Someone needs to know all the lore I've accumulated, and how I've expanded on what I was shown. I want to hand down our traditions the way the Witch did with me. Even with as little as we do know, we witches can still make a difference." Ghost took a moment to swallow the lump in his throat before continuing. "I want to leave something behind. Maybe I won't leave a child sired and raised by us. But I want something to mark I was here and did my best to help."

"You're the first male witch in generations. You count for something. Your presence will be recorded by the witchsisters. Even though some of them hate you and would love to feed you to a lair full of hungry sind." Gerry's eyes held humor. "There are far more who'll make sure everyone remembers how the Witch taught Ghost, a witch and a seer, and a man of honor. I hope they mention your beautiful spiral. Those stones which glow when you're working your magic, but which never shine brighter than your eyes."

Ghost coughed to hide the startled sob that almost escaped him. "Listen to you. You're all full of words, like the stories I used to read in the ruins. Compliments are very confusing, you know. I'm not used to thinking of myself as anyone special. I'm only me. The Witch used to tell me I'm not quite housebroken. I still make mistakes, and people make me nervous."

"Who's the alpha here?" Gerry said as Ghost chanced a peek at him. "You were special enough for me to fall in love with you the day I met you."

"You can blame that on the hemp. Good for pain, but gives you the oddest notions." Ghost could feel the smile starting on his lips. "Like thinking you're falling in love."

"And then I was so sure I'd scared you off when I asked you to stay with me in the bed. But waking up with you next to me felt so right." Gerry smiled at him. "You're all I want, beloved, more than enough for me. Even if we never have another dependent, it doesn't matter. I don't need anything more than you in my life. It's why I was so angry with the godsman's delay. I knew you were the one I was waiting for."

"But if we had a dependent? Would it ruin things?" Ghost's stomach twisted with tension. The vision had been muddled. He had seen a child, but the image had shifted so quickly. The child could have been anyone, or meant anything. The possibilities were endless, the reason unknown. Perhaps the vision was merely an arbitrary child or a symbol of something he didn't yet understand. But part of Ghost wished the child was meant for him, even if only as an apprentice.

"Don't be silly. Having a dependent wouldn't ruin anything. I wouldn't be surprised if we did eventually take one in. Sort of like the Witch's friend winding up with an abandoned sind whelp. There are enough children who lose their place and are orphaned. I'd be crazy to think we wouldn't be happy with one of them as ours." Gerry led Ghost into the yard of their house.

The frost along the edges of the paving stones sparkled in the light of the moon. The sky was perfectly clear, but Ghost shivered anyway, feeling a chill creep up his spine.

Gerry tightened his hold on Ghost's hand. "You're freezing. Let's get inside, and we can have some of the good stew you made this morning. A bowl of something hot and you'll feel better."

Ghost consented, letting Gerry guide him through the door. "I think I'm just tired. I still want to try to reach a few of the sisterhood who were looking for answers. Maybe the Witch will contact me again too. You never know. But I don't want to stay up too late. I'll be busy tomorrow, and I can take the mirror with me so I won't miss anything. And my notes. I'll need my notes and my formulary. And one jar I'll keep tucked away. The Seeker's rest." He glanced at Gerry. "If I can't help them, and they ask me, I can ease the way. The tincture's not perfect, but I can offer a gentler death."

Gerry's expression made Ghost's heart sink a little. Fear, disappointment, and disapproval, all rolled into one.

"I've never made a secret of the fact some of the knowledge I have can be harmful. I have to learn what herbs can help, but I also need to know which ones can cause harm, or even kill. Like the rhymes they teach children about the fungi growing around the trees. Some are delicious and others can kill if you eat enough." Ghost splashed some water from the pump over his hands. "We take an oath to use what we know to help. Do you trust me to keep my oath?"

Gerry moved the stew closer to the hearth and added a few chunks of wood to the fire. "You have dangerous knowledge. What if they ask and change their mind? You can't undo the effects, can you?" He looked at Ghost, and Ghost wanted to run from the questions in Gerry's eyes.

"You don't give them the tincture the first time they ask. You talk to them, and you listen to what they're really saying. I'm not always good with people, but I understand this part, when they're facing death. Most of the time what they need is simply to have someone listen and hold their hand so they're not alone. Or they want you to ask the Seeker to turn her mate away, even though we both know it won't happen." Ghost poured out some cool water into cups. "And sometimes, they really can't bear the pain any longer. They're too close, and they see his dread face, and they
know
. They ask you to help, and you have to decide if they really mean what they're asking."

Ghost's hands trembled as he put the cups of water on the table. "You said you hoped you'd never have to kill anyone again. You said you wondered why everyone just accepted what you did, why no one said anything. Did you stop to think I might have to wonder about the same thing? I gave two elderly people the Seeker's rest today. I watched as they held hands while the tincture worked. I watched them die. So how am I supposed to feel? Did I do what my oath promised, or am I only a killer?"

Gerry reached out and pulled Ghost close to him, wrapping his arms around his mate. "I didn't mean to imply anything. I didn't mean you're a killer. I just... well, how do you decide?"

Ghost buried his face in Gerry's shoulder, breathing in the scent of Gerry's leather tunic. He needed a moment to find his voice. "I don't decide. They do. I only have to make sure they know what they're asking me for. And after they decide, I'm the one watching. I'm going to watch them die either way. The choice is how. It should be their choice, not mine. I shouldn't force them to die slowly, in pain, scared of what's happening, because I'm afraid to offer them a way out. I don't expect you to understand, because I didn't really know either until the first time I offered that choice. Today, as a matter of fact. So, I'm still working through how it feels myself."

"I'm sorry. I didn't think," Gerry murmured, but he sounded unconvinced. Ghost slipped out of his arms.

"Why don't you get the bowls down and dish out the stew?" Ghost said. His chest hurt so much he could barely breathe, and his lips felt numb as he formed the words. Gerry had said what Ghost did as a witch was his decision, but now Gerry thought he had made the wrong choice. Gerry thought he was a killer. "We'll eat, and I'll see who I can reach tonight. Afterward, I think I need to sleep. I have a lot to do tomorrow if I'm going to make this work. Are you still going to talk to Mother and Conn tonight?"

"I think I will, yes," Gerry replied, and the careful distance in his voice was vast enough to make Ghost's heart sink even more. "Ghost, don't think I don't trust you. But bringing about a death shouldn't be easy. I just wonder if maybe the Witch made some of what you can do seem too easy, or if being raised apart the way you were had something to do with it. But I think you follow your oath the best you know how."

"Thank you. I think," Ghost said. He felt icy-cold inside, but his cheeks were on fire. "I suppose I'm on my own with this anyway. I'm the one who gets to listen and make the choice to offer to kill them before the illness does. Witch's business, right? No one will point a finger at you as long as you can pass off the blame. You can just say I did what I had to do."