Healer's Touch (14 page)

Marius blinked. He hadn’t considered that might be the reason.

“Of course, if you feel it’s inappropriate for me to wear it—” continued Isolda.

“Not at all,” he said quickly. “Wear it by all means, if you feel safer that way.”

“It’s not much of a disguise,” she admitted. “Once I open my mouth, they can tell from my accent. But I find it cuts down on the stares, and I don’t want anyone reporting me to the city guard.”

“I want you to feel comfortable here,” said Marius. “Wear whatever you like. I just want you to know you don’t
have
to wear it.”

“Thank you, sir.” She took Rory’s hand, left the surgery, and disappeared down the street.

Where did she go in the evenings? He had some notion of her character by now: she was courageous, hard-working, and absolutely devoted to her son. And yet in some ways he barely knew her at all.

∞

For the first time in years, Isolda felt optimistic about her future and about Rory’s. Marius was paying her generously, there was no chance of the surgery exploding in a deadly fireball, and Marius never harassed her. Under her management, the surgery was now turning a profit. And while she’d heard a few ugly comments from the customers about sewer rats, and felt some unfriendly stares, so far there had been no serious trouble from Marius’s clients or from the neighbors.

The Free Days were a spectacular success.

The first one drew some unwelcome faces, such as Antonius, who owed the surgery a great deal of money. But it also attracted patients entirely new to Marius. The waiting room filled up, and a line spilled out the door. When she informed Antonius that the wait to see the Healer would be four hours, he left in a huff.

Most of the new patients stayed. They were shabbily dressed, some of them shoeless. Isolda knew she was looking at Kjall’s poorest, the unfortunates who didn’t have the money to pay a Healer. That such people existed among Kjall’s legal citizens did not surprise her; the situation was the same in Sardos. Healers were rare and expensive. The poorer class had always gone to apothecaries instead; her father could not have made a living otherwise.

At the end of the first Free Day, Marius came out of his office, fuming. “I can’t believe it. Five cases,
five
, of broken bones that were never healed or even properly set. And why should that be, when a Healer’s magic can cure a fresh break so easily?”

“I’m sure it’s because they couldn’t afford a Healer when it happened.”

“I
know
that’s why,” said Marius. “It’s infuriating. I’ve done what I can for them, but I can’t fix a bone that’s healed improperly—the body doesn’t remember. Some of these people have permanent limps or useless arms, and what good is that to Kjall? Why do we cripple our able-bodied people for want of a little coin?”

“You’re helping,” she assured him. “Word will get out about the Free Days. You saw mostly old injuries today, but next time someone breaks an arm and can’t afford a Healer, they’ll come on your next Free Day.”

“I hope so.” He smiled. “This was a good idea you had. I feel like I accomplished more good in one day than I do all week.”

At Marius’s bidding, she scheduled another Free Day for the following week.

Word spread, and the second Free Day was even better attended than the first. A few Sardossians showed up, showing signs of a fever. Marius was delighted to cure it, but at the end of the day, when they were closing up, he told her it wasn’t the best solution to the problem.

“I’m glad they came, but they should be warded,” he said. “With proper wards, they wouldn’t have picked up the evil spirits in the first place. I wonder if we could get Nonian to come and ward people at our next Free Day. Ask him for me, please.”

She spoke to Nonian the next day. He said he would come, but only if he was paid.

Marius grumbled but finally said, “Fair enough. Warders aren’t as well-off as Healers. It isn’t reasonable for me to ask him to work for free. Can the surgery afford to pay him?”

Isolda grimaced. “Not easily. I asked how much he would charge. If we bring him in, we’ll have to schedule the Free Days farther apart, or risk losing money.”

Marius waved his hand. “Forget it. I want the Free Days no more than a week apart. Today I saw somebody with a broken leg who’d waited four days to come in. Four days! Can you imagine?”

She could.

“I’ll speak to my benefactor,” said Marius. “Maybe he can help.”

The mysterious benefactor again. After a month working here, Isolda still had no idea who that person was.

On the third Free Day, a line formed at the surgery door before they even opened. The surgery was so crowded, and some of the cases so urgent, that Marius kept the surgery open an extra two hours in order to accommodate a few more patients. Isolda stayed late too, which meant that Rory, who’d finished his work at the usual time, ended up waiting for her.

Isolda counted out four more patients, the most Marius could see in his remaining hour, and sent the others home. She locked the front door and sat in the slowly emptying waiting room, making sure the patients were sent to Marius in the correct order. Drusus, who sometimes stayed in the office with Marius and sometimes in the waiting room, had chosen the waiting room today. He was in the corner, reading a book.

Rory fidgeted in a chair for a while. Then he got up and hopped about the room, looking out the windows. Finally he went to Drusus and announced, “I can read.”

Isolda tensed as Drusus looked up from his book. Marius’s gruff, snobby bodyguard had warmed to them a little bit over the past month. But he was far from approachable, and she had no idea if he liked children.

“You can read? I don’t believe it,” said Drusus.

“I’ll show you.” Rory circled around so he could see the words of Drusus’s book right side up. He placed his finger on the page and began sounding out words.

Drusus turned to Isolda, raising a brow. “Did you teach him this?”

“He’ll need it if he’s to become a warder someday.”

Drusus chucked Rory on the shoulder. “You’re pretty good at reading. I’ll tell you what. Let’s read this page together. I’ll read one sentence, and you read the next.”

For a half hour, Drusus and Rory read together. The book was too advanced for Rory. It was written by a naturalist, a book about birds, and much of the vocabulary was beyond Rory’s ability. Isolda winced every time her son struggled with a word. But the boy soldiered on gamely, and Drusus was patient.

The last client left Marius’s office. Isolda rose to let him out the front door and watched the office door expectantly, knowing that Marius must soon emerge.

After a few minutes, Marius did, yawning. “Thanks for staying late, Isolda.” He dropped a handful of coins into her palm.

Her payment was heavier than usual today. She counted coins and saw that he’d given her a few extra quintetrals—a bonus for overtime.

Drusus closed his book. He said to Rory, “Keep practicing at home. Next time we have a late night at the surgery, bring one of your books and you can show me how much you’ve learned.”

“I don’t have any books at home,” said Rory.

“No books?” Drusus glanced at Isolda.

She shrugged. There were a lot of things they didn’t have.

“We’re saving money so I can learn magic,” said Rory.

“Tell you what,” said Drusus. “I’ve got some books at the villa that I’ve already read. You can borrow them. But only if you promise you’ll practice your reading. What do you say? Clasp wrists on it?”

Rory nodded gravely and clasped the big man’s wrist.

Isolda’s heart swelled. Never before had she worked with such delightful men, both Marius and Drusus. She was beginning to think there might be a place for her in this once-unwelcoming country.

Chapter 15

As Marius headed down the dark street from the surgery to his villa, he thought of the one thing he would change about his life, if he could. He was too gods-cursed busy. His work in the surgery kept him tied up all day, and yet Drusus had idle time—time he had used tonight to speak with Isolda and her son. Marius was jealous.

At the villa, he and Drusus sat down for a late supper of partridge stew. There was no conversation, since Drusus rarely spoke unless spoken to, and Marius thought back to that afternoon when Isolda and Rory had taken lunch here at the villa. Rory had been obsessed with helping the cook, and Marius and Isolda had enjoyed a pleasant conversation at this very table. How much livelier the villa was when Isolda and Rory were in it.

He broke the silence. “That was a nice thing you did for Isolda’s boy.”

Drusus grunted. “That boy won’t have a chance at the university if he doesn’t start studying at home. He works all day at a fruit stand, earning money to pay his way. Think of his competition—the other boys at the university will be rich men’s children who’ve never had to work a day and who’ve had full-time tutors since they were six.”

Marius knew this was true, and yet he bristled at the idea that an education had to be started in early childhood. “I did all right.”

Drusus pointed a spoon at him. “Your cousin is the
emperor
. You were seldom at the university. You had the best tutors the Imperium could buy.”

“I think Rory will do well. He’s bright and motivated.”

“That’s why I want to help him,” said Drusus. “But it may not be enough. And his race isn’t going to do him any favors.”

Marius had to agree. Rory might not be readily identifiable as Sardossian—unlike his mother, he had no accent. But his yellow hair made it clear he wasn’t Kjallan. He might be mistaken for a Riorcan, but Riorcans weren’t much better tolerated in Riat than Sardossians. “I didn’t think you liked children.”

“Depends on the child,” said Drusus. “Rory’s all right. But some of those children at the imperial palace I could do without.”

“They’re a bit spoiled, you think?”

Drusus shrugged.

Marius tried to think of children he knew at the imperial palace, but the only ones he knew were Lucien and Vitala’s boys. He’d met Rhianne’s children, too, but they were only visiting at the time. They lived in Mosar. Drusus, however, had worked at the palace for years before being assigned to Marius, and had undoubtedly seen a great deal more. “I like Jamien and Maxian.”

“I don’t know Maxian well,” said Drusus. “But Jamien’s a terror.”

“
Jamien?
”

“Gods help us when he inherits the throne.”

Marius could hardly believe what he was hearing. He’d never heard the imperial heir spoken of with anything but effusive praise. “I think Jamien is charming.”

“Charming he is,” said Drusus. “And intelligent. But he’s not the same person in private as he is in public.”

“What do you mean? Give me an example.”

Drusus shook his head. “It’s not my place to speak of such things. Forget what I said—please.”

Marius dropped the subject but resolved to watch Jamien more closely from now on. His bodyguard, a lifelong observer of the imperial family, had an astute understanding of people and their motivations. Marius would be a fool not to listen. Perhaps there was some way he could intervene and help set the boy on the right path, although he couldn’t imagine how to raise the issue with his cousin. “You seem to be getting on well with Isolda.”

“I’m warming to her. She’s brave. Did you see that stain on her syrtos this morning?”

“I confess I didn’t notice.”

“She washed it off as soon as she came in,” said Drusus. “Someone threw dog shit at her while she was walking to work.”

Marius’s hand hit the table with a thud. “They did
what
?”

“I imagine that sort of thing happens to her all the time.”

How had Marius not known? He wanted to run out into the street and find whoever had done it. Or perhaps, more sensibly, he could hire someone to escort her to and from work. “She told you about it. Why didn’t she tell me?”

“She didn’t tell me, either; I saw her washing it off. I’m sure she doesn’t want to bother either of us with her problems.”

How sad that she thought she would be
bothering
him. “When we first met her, I thought you didn’t care for Isolda.”

“She improves upon acquaintance.”

Marius set down his spoon. “Are you interested in her?”

“Romantically?” Drusus looked up from his food. “You know I’m not allowed to fraternize.”

“When your contract ends,” said Marius. “It’s just a year and a few months away.”

“That’s a long time,” said Drusus. “But it doesn’t matter. I haven’t a chance with Isolda. She’s got eyes only for you.”

“You think so?” Marius’s stomach lifted. “How can you tell?”

“Gods, man, you must be blind if you can’t see it. That woman
worships
you.”

“She never says anything.”

“What do you expect her to say?” said Drusus. “You’re a wealthy, well-connected Kjallan. She’s a poor Sardossian refugee with no papers, previously married, and with a child. People throw dog shit at her. She’s not in your class, and she knows it. You think she’s going to make eyes at you like a fool and risk losing a job that means everything to her?”

He hadn’t thought of it that way. “You’re saying she’ll never make the first move. So I should do it.”

Drusus eyed him. “You know you can’t marry her. Won’t that just make a mess of things?”

Marius was starting to wonder if perhaps he could marry her. Emperor Lucien would surely disapprove of the match, and he hated to disappoint his cousin, who’d done so much for him. But Lucien didn’t own him. Marius was self-sufficient now. “I just want to get to know her better.”

Drusus frowned. “You’re too busy during the workday. You need to get her away. Ask her to supper. Or go out with her on Sage’s Day.”

Marius sighed. “I don’t want to be like her old boss, that horrible man at the factory—”

“Stop it,” said Drusus. “Marius, you will never be that man. What are you going to do if she turns you down?”

“Nothing, I suppose. What can I do?”

“That’s the difference between you and the factory manager. He didn’t respect her. He didn’t take no for an answer, but you will if she turns you down. Now, are you going to ask her to see you sometime, outside of the surgery?”