Temple of the Dragonslayer (5 page)

But honor also demanded that he find the kender and teach him an important lesson about showing the proper respect for minotaurs.

The question was, which was more important? Keeping his word or avenging the insult done to him by the kender?

Jax thought about it for a moment longer before deciding there really wasn’t any question. He walked off in search of the caravan-master to quit his job. Then he would go after the kender.

T
he healer lives one street east of here,” Davyn said. “She is named Wynda, and we’ll know her place because the walls are covered with ivy, and a ginger cat sits on the windowsill when she has her shutters open.”

Catriona frowned. “You walked into the candle maker’s and came right back out again. How did you have time to learn all that?”

“The man was a fast talker. Let’s go.”

Davyn started down the street and the rest of them followed. Nearra was worried that something was wrong with Davyn. Ever since they had met Catriona and Sindri, he’d become increasingly irritable, and she wasn’t sure why. She wanted to ask him, but she didn’t feel she could, not in front of Catriona and Sindri.

Davyn picked up speed, as if he were more eager to get to the healer than she was. Nearra started to increase her pace to keep up with him, but before she could do so, Catriona took her elbow and held her back.

“Tell me, Nearra,” Catriona whispered, “how well do you know that boy?”

“I only met him this morning. Remember? I told you about
how he and that white wizard rescued me from the dragon. Why do you ask?”

Catriona stared at Davyn’s back. Sindri had to run to keep up with the ranger.

“I’m not sure,” Catriona said. “There’s just something about him that I don’t trust.”

Though Nearra didn’t share Catriona’s concern about Davyn, she smiled and said, “Then it’s a good thing I have you along to protect me.”

Catriona looked at the ground. “I can’t protect you. I’m not a real warrior. I’m only a squire.”

“You seemed like a real warrior to me when you were fighting with the minotaur,” Nearra said.

“What does a girl like you know of battle?” Catriona snapped.

“I’m sorry. I only meant …” Nearra couldn’t think what more to say.

Catriona saw the hurt in Nearra’s face and her voice softened. “Please don’t tell anyone. But the truth is … I was terrified. I try to hide it, but I’m always scared when I fight.”

Nearra thought for a moment. “It seems to me that a true warrior battles on despite her fear. And that’s exactly what you did.”

Catriona studied Nearra for a moment. “You have no weapons, and you look as weak as a kender. I suppose you do need someone to protect you.” She paused and then, as if coming to a decision, continued with firm conviction. “From this moment onward, I vow to serve as your protector, Nearra of the Forest, and I shall continue to do so until such time as you no longer have need of my service. This I do swear.”

Nearra was so taken aback by this unexpected declaration that all she could say was “Thank you.”

Catriona seemed satisfied with Nearra’s response. The warrior nodded once, and then said, “Come, let’s catch up with our companions.”

Nearra walked faster but the warrior remained at her side, and she didn’t let go of Nearra’s arm.

They found the healer’s place just where Davyn said they would: one street east. Ivy climbed the walls, and a cat lounged on the windowsill.

Sindri grinned upon seeing the small building. “I knew it was here!”

Davyn turned to the kender and Catriona, and he gave them a smile that seemed forced.

“Well, here we are, safe and sound. I’m sure Nearra is as grateful as I am for your help, but there is no need for you to accompany us any further. Come, Nearra. Let’s go inside.” Davyn stepped up to the wooden door and motioned for Nearra to join him.

Nearra looked to Catriona, unsure what to do.

“I can’t think of anything more interesting to do than find out if Nearra recovers her lost memories,” Sindri said. “How about you, Catriona?”

Catriona answered the kender, but she kept her gaze focused on Davyn as she spoke. “I have taken a vow to remain at Nearra’s side until her mind is whole again. We are coming with you.”

Davyn’s gaze hardened and when he spoke, his voice was tight with tension. “I appreciate the offer, but we really—”

“You might as well not bother,” Sindri interrupted. “Once Catriona makes up her mind, that’s it. Several months ago she intervened when I was having a discussion with a deluded alchemist. He refused to believe I’d conjured a vial of water-breathing potion. We were in the middle of a fierce argument when Catriona showed up. Afterward, she decided to travel with me and, as she put it, protect me from myself.” The kender leaned toward Davyn and whispered, “I don’t really need protecting, of course, but I’ve found it’s best to humor her in these matters.”

Davyn’s face reddened with anger, then he let out a defeated sigh, the anger draining out of him along with his breath. “All right, you two can come. But only if Nearra approves. After all, we’ve come to the healer for her sake.”

Nearra spoke without hesitation. “I’d like for you to come.”

Davyn nodded, gave Nearra a thin smile, then turned and knocked on the healer’s door.

Inside the healer’s examining room, Nearra sat on a hard wooden table while Catriona stood close by. Catriona had insisted on accompanying her into the examining room, and she’d been equally insistent that Davyn and Sindri—the two males—remain in the outer room while the examination took place.

The examining room was tiny and cramped. Shelves filled with hundreds of jars reached to the ceiling. Nearra read the labels of the jars next to her: Juniper, dried eel skin, goose droppings, sheep fat, wyvern stinger. She nearly gagged thinking of the disgusting potions those ingredients might make. But all the same, she’d be willing to drink anything if it might bring back her memories.

The healer pulled back a panel in the ceiling to allow sunlight into the room so that she might better see her patient. Wynda then walked around the table until she stood behind Nearra. She ran her short stubby fingers gently over Nearra’s scalp, pausing now and then to exert pressure on a particular spot as she muttered to herself beneath her breath. She sniffed Nearra’s breath, then cut off a lock of her hair and chewed it for several moments before scowling and spitting it onto the floor.

Finally, Wynda spoke. “I cannot tell if you suffer an enchantment, child, but the wizard who aided you said you did not, correct?”

“That’s right,” Nearra said.

“Then I am at a loss to explain your condition. Your bodily humors are in balance, and you appear strong and healthy.”
Wynda made a clucking sound with her tongue as she pondered the problem. “Child, I say this without false pride: I am the best healer in Tresvka, and I have no idea how to help you.”

Nearra thought she might cry. “Are you certain? Can’t you make some kind of potion to help me?”

“Surely there must be
something
that can be done for her,” Catriona said.

Wynda shook her head. “Not by me, I’m afraid, nor by any other ordinary healer. But … there might be another possibility.”

Nearra wondered if she dared to hope again. “What is it?”

“Long years past, there was a temple located deep in a valley somewhere past the northern forest of Tresvka. Many clerics made their home there, sharing their knowledge and working miracles in the names of the divine powers. After the gods turned away from Krynn, the clerics disappeared and the temple fell into ruin. But now that the dragons have returned to Krynn, there are rumors that the gods once more are permitting miracles to be performed in the mortal world. I have recently heard tell that a new group of clerics has returned to the temple and taken up residence there. If I were you, I would journey to the temple to see if the rumors are true and if the clerics might be able to heal you.”

Nearra looked to Catriona. “What do you think?”

“I, too, have heard stories of the gods’ chosen returning to Krynn after the War of the Lance.”

Nearra didn’t know—or couldn’t remember—what the War of the Lance was. But if Catriona had heard the same rumors as Wynda, then there was at least a possibility of them being true.

“Do you know the way to this temple?” Nearra asked the red-haired warrior, her excitement building.

Catriona shook her head. “Sindri and I have only been in Tresvka for a week or so. We haven’t traveled through the land to the north.”

“Perhaps Davyn—” But Nearra broke off when Catriona frowned at the mention of the ranger’s name.

“If it’s a guide you seek, you might find one at the Blind Goose tavern,” Wynda said. “It’s a favorite gathering place of traders and travelers of all sorts. Odds are that someone there will know the way to the temple.”

“Then that’s where I shall go!” Nearra said, grinning. Wynda might not have restored Nearra’s memory, but the healer had given her renewed hope.

Wynda cleared her throat. “Regarding the matter of my fee …”

“Of course,” Nearra said, embarrassed that she’d forgotten all about paying the healer. “One of our companions has the money. We shall go fetch him.”

Wynda smiled. “Certainly, child. And I hope you find what you’re searching for.”

Davyn walked into the healer’s examining room. Before he closed the door behind him, he listened: Nearra was telling Sindri what the healer had said to her.

Good. That meant no one would hear him speak with Wynda.

The healer held out a hand. “Do you have my payment, young man?”

Davyn removed Maddoc’s money pouch from his tunic pocket, then walked over to Wynda. He opened the purse and took out twenty steel coins, but he didn’t give them to her right away.

“Did you do as you were told?”

“Yes. I told her that she has no sign of either injury or illness, and that the clerics inhabiting the Temple of the Holy Orders of the Stars might be able to help her.”

“And …?”

“That she could find a guide to the temple at the Blind Goose tavern.”

“Excellent.” Davyn dropped the coins into the healer’s waiting hand.