The Exile and the Sorcerer (28 page)

Soon, Jemeryl let her hands drop and sat back, feeling very relieved. The sockets were undamaged, although it would have been less painful for Tevi had this not been the case. The active nerve ends must be causing her agony. Jemeryl looked at her patient with respect, surprised that she was even able to walk and talk. At least it was now possible to do something to help. A goblet with a sleeping draft was already prepared.

Tevi was slumped forward, gasping. The pulse in her neck beat rapidly. Jemeryl gently coaxed her upright and placed the goblet in her hands. “There’s a lot of work to do, but I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know you don’t have to be aware of it. Drink this, and you’ll sleep.”

“Can you stop it hurting?” Tevi’s voice was a raw whisper.

“I can do more than that. I can restore your eyesight. I can’t guarantee it will be like before, but it should be good enough for you to remain a warrior.”

At first, Tevi hesitated, with the goblet at her lips, but then she resolutely downed the contents.

“If you could come over here...” Jemeryl took Tevi’s hand and guided her to the table. “You’ll be asleep soon and won’t know anything more until tomorrow morning. When I’ve finished, I’ll put a bandage around your eyes. You mustn’t remove it, even if you feel fine. Your eyes will be extremely sensitive to light. If you expose them before they’ve healed, you may cause fresh damage.”

Tevi lay on the table with a cushion under her head. “I won’t touch it.” Her voice was already sounding drowsy.

“I’ll try to be around when you wake up. If I’m not, you can say my name aloud anywhere in the castle, and I’ll hear. My name is Jemeryl. Will you remember that?”

Tevi nodded and mumbled, “Jem’r.”

Jemeryl moved to the few final preparations. Tevi was deeply asleep by the time she had finished. The expression of pain had faded. Without it, the warrior looked even younger than Jemeryl’s first estimate. Her body was athletic but certainly not muscle-bound.
Where did she find the strength to use a battle-axe?
Jemeryl wondered.
And how did anyone so inexperienced kill a basilisk?
The questions would have to wait. Jemeryl had a long afternoon’s work ahead of her.

“Oh, Keovan’s knickers! I forgot to ask what colour eyes she wanted.” Jemeryl paused. “I guess it’s down to me.” She studied Tevi’s face for a few seconds and smiled. “Grey.”

*

Night had fallen by the time Jemeryl was finished. The job had presented more problems than expected, and she was exhausted. She hauled Tevi from the table and onto Ruff’s back for the short, shuffled journey up through the parlour and into a small side chamber. This had been allocated as a sickroom in the days when Jemeryl had expected to be called on regularly to nurse sick villagers. Tevi would be only the second person to occupy it. As she rolled Tevi onto the bed, Jemeryl pushed away the memories of the other patient, the young girl dying of gangrene.

She tugged off Tevi’s boots and outer clothing, then pulled up the blankets and stood back. Waves of tiredness swept over Jemeryl. Lank strands of hair stuck to the sweat on her forehead.

Klara perched on the bedstead. “Finished already?”

“Just about. I want you to stand watch. Call me if Tevi wakes. Otherwise, let me sleep.”

“Why do I get the boring jobs?”

“Because I’m the one who can open the food cupboard.”

Jemeryl paused at the door, intending only a last backward glance. Instead, she froze, overwhelmed by the changes the day had brought. What was so important about meeting this woman? She studied her patient. Tevi’s face was relaxed and at peace. Dark hair fell over the clean white bandage around Tevi’s eyes, and the tip of her nose stuck out below. Her lips were parted. Her cheeks were smooth and flushed in sleep.

An assortment of vague ideas scrambled through Jemeryl’s mind. The only one clear enough to be identified was an awareness that she had been celibate for over two years.

Jemeryl laughed at herself and shook her head. “It’s amazing, the funny ideas you get when you’re tired.”

“You never needed tiredness as an excuse before.”

“Impudent bird.” With that, Jemeryl shut the door and headed to her own bed.

*

Tevi awoke from a series of troubled dreams. Her first thought was that it was still night, since it was too dark to see. Then memories disentangled themselves from the nightmares. Her hand shot to her face, and with the feel of the bandage came the realisation that her eyes no longer hurt. Tevi’s hand fell back to the bedcovers, but her relief was short-lived. From the foot of her bed came a sound like leaves rustling in the wind—except the air in the room was still. Something was moving.

Tevi’s memories continued to drop into place. She was in the sorcerer’s castle, alone and sightless. There had been nonhuman things in the courtyard. The villagers’ stories suddenly seemed far more credible. Tevi felt an urge to hide, an urge all the more inane since her only options were under either the bedcovers or the bed itself. Neither was likely to be effective if the sorcerer, or anything else, meant her harm. Tevi fought back her panic. What was it at the foot of the bed?

A new set of muffled sounds arose. Tevi’s entire concentration focused on her ears. Someone was moving in an adjoining room and getting closer. The noises stopped; then a handle rattled, and what had to be the door to her room opened.

Tevi jerked onto one elbow, facing the sound. “Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Jemeryl. Are you all right?”

Tevi fell back, feeling simultaneously frightened and stupid. “Yes...yes, I think so.”

“Do your eyes hurt?”

“No. They feel fine.” Tevi took a grip on herself. The sorcerer had kept her word. She had taken away the unbearable pain. The very least Tevi owed her was the benefit of the doubt.

The bed moved. Presumably, Jemeryl had taken a seat on the edge. Tevi pulled herself into a sitting position.

“Any other aches and pains?” Jemeryl asked gently.

“I don’t think so.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“Er...I must have.” Tevi did not feel completely certain about anything.

“Then can I interest you in breakfast?”

“Oh, yes.” This was the easiest question so far. Tevi had not eaten since breakfast in Sergo’s cottage the previous morning.

“The villagers leave supplies. I can offer bread and honey, slices of ham, cheese. How does that sound?”

“Fine.”

“There’s a bowl of water on the table beside your bed. I was too tired to clean you up last night, but if you want, I’ll help now.”

Tevi shook her head. “I can manage on my own.”

“Right. I’ll go and get breakfast.”

With her fears easing, Tevi’s body was able to attract her attention. Jemeryl must have noticed the resulting expression.

“There’s something else you want?”

“Um...a latrine?” Tevi asked sheepishly.

“Oh, of course.” Jemeryl took Tevi’s hand and helped her out of bed. “There are privies built into the wall where the tower overhangs the cliff. One is in the corner of your room. I’ll show you. It’s primitive but functional. Just a seat with a hole over a sheer drop. If you suffer from vertigo, it would be a good idea not to look too closely once your bandage is removed.” Jemeryl paused. “However, in spring and summer, the cliffs below are covered with nesting birds. I sometimes think the latrines were the architect’s idea of revenge.”

Tevi laughed out loud for the first time in ages. There were a few seagulls on Storenseg she had a score to settle with, although they were unlikely to be so far from home.

Jemeryl let go of Tevi’s hand. “There’s not much furniture in the room. If you go carefully, you shouldn’t bang into anything. Your saddle pack is under the table. If you’re all right, I’ll see about breakfast.”

“I’ll manage,” Tevi said confidently. Only after the door closed did she remember the thing she had heard moving. What was it? And was it still there?

Tevi took a deep breath. She was being stupid. Nothing bad had happened so far; the sorcerer seemed friendly, and even if she were not, acting like a coward would not help.

Working by touch, Tevi was able to take care of herself, including finding a clean shirt in her pack. By the time Jemeryl returned, she was back in her bed, feeling much better. Her newfound composure lasted less than a second. Something small leapt onto the bed, and a tiny, clawed hand touched hers.

“What is it?” Panic cracked Tevi’s voice.

“It’s just a squirrel.”

“A squirrel!”

“Most likely after your breakfast. It won’t like the honey or the ham, but squirrels are incurable optimists.”

“A squirrel?” Given the circumstances, an imp or huge spider would have been far less surprising. While Tevi was coming to terms with the idea, a plate was pressed into her hands. The small creature was lifted from Tevi’s lap and deposited by her feet—not that it stayed there.

“I’m afraid the castle is overrun with them.” Jemeryl sounded rueful.

“Aren’t they supposed to be hibernating?”

“They should be, but it’s warm in the castle, and I feed them, so mostly they stay awake.”

“They’re tame?”

“Lightly entranced. I can make it go if you want.”

“It’s all right.” Tevi cautiously put out a hand and stroked the squirrel. She could feel that it was perched on its back legs and peering about the room. “Was it squirrels I heard in the courtyard yesterday?”

“In part. Tumble was also contributing to your riotous welcome.” Jemeryl hesitated, as if considering her words. “Ruff and Tumble are bears...quite large bears. I’ll try to keep them away from you, but you needn’t be frightened. They really are completely safe. Tumble just wanted to make friends.”

Obviously, some of the villagers’ stories were based in fact. Tevi concentrated on eating while she turned ideas over, hoping Jemeryl would put her silence down to hunger. Although the sorcerer had been pleasant, it might be part of a less altruistic plan. Subconsciously reflecting her doubts, Tevi’s hand rose to the bandage, wondering if her eyes really were cured.

“Stop that,” Jemeryl said sharply.

Tevi flinched. “Pardon?”

“I’m sorry. Not you; the squirrel. It’s eyeing up your bread. It’s realised you can’t see.”

“Oh, well...if it wants some, there’s more here than I need.”

“Best not encourage them, or they’ll be stealing dinner from under our noses.” Jemeryl sounded exasperated but amused. “Here. I have some acorns in my pocket. If I put a few on the floor, that ought to distract it while we finish eating—unless it decides to try its hand at making a nut sandwich.”

Again, Tevi found herself laughing. Pockets full of squirrel bribes did not fit with the evil necromancer of the stories.

“The villagers...they told me a bit about you,” Tevi began.

“I’m sure they did.”

“You don’t seem quite like I expected.”

“You mean I haven’t fed you to my pet dragon?”

“Er...” Tevi wondered if she should have kept quiet.

“There’s a simple explanation. It’s not hungry yet.”

Tevi could tell Jemeryl was joking, but there was an edge to her voice. The sorcerer was very serious about something. Uncertainly, Tevi asked, “Do you have a dragon?”

“Of course not. But I’ve got a mentor who could give real dragons nightmares.” The second part was muttered so quietly that Tevi was not sure if she had misheard.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound as if—”

“It’s all right. I’m aware the villagers don’t trust me. In part that has to be my fault, but half of what they say about me is distorted, and the other half is completely untrue.”

From the undercurrents to Jemeryl’s voice, a lot was being left unsaid, but there was also unmistakable sincerity. Tevi realised that she trusted the sorcerer far more than the villager’s stories, or would until her own experience persuaded her otherwise.

Before she could think of a suitable response, a large yawn caught her by surprise. “I can’t still be tired.”

“You probably are. It’s a side effect of the magic. Having your eyes turned to crystal and back can take a lot out of you. Sleep might be a good idea.”

After a moment’s deliberation, Tevi slid down under the blankets. The squirrel hopped onto the bed and snuggled into the curve of her arm. There was something very reassuring about the small warm, furry body. The last of Tevi’s fears dissolved as a wave of sleepiness washed over her. She was only vaguely aware of the door closing as the sorcerer left the room.

*

It was not only Tevi who needed sleep; Jemeryl felt drained by the previous day. She spent the rest of the morning dozing by the parlour fire in a battered old armchair while keeping one eye on the door to Tevi’s room.

The blazing fire was purely for effect. Jemeryl did not need it to warm the room, but its light played cheerfully on the furnishings and the eclectic range of books, presents, and curios littering every horizontal surface. Jemeryl was by nature tidy in everything except her personal appearance. Somehow, the room had gained a life of its own, mostly due to the squirrels, who hated leaving anything where they found it. Any pretence at a formal reception room had vanished. The parlour was now cluttered, comfortable, and far less imposing than most citizens would ever imagine for a sorcerer’s home.