The Fuller's Apprentice (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 1) (45 page)

Gilon rubbed his chin. “She’s been fretful lately. Sairna said that was to be expected, with the new baby on the way. But she didn’t seem sick.”

“Could she have gotten hold of some bad food? Maybe while we were all busy at the party? Although that would have affected her sooner. Josiah, you were watching her, weren’t you? Did you notice anything?”

“It was mostly Sixthday I was keeping them. She seemed all right.” Josiah flushed. “Sairna was a little worried, but she said not to bother you. I wanted to say something, but I’ve been trying not to jump in without thinking, like you told me.”

Elkan ran his hand through his hair. “Just tell me what you noticed.”

“Um, not much, really. Just that she wasn’t happy. She’d play and be fine as long as she was distracted, but as soon as we stopped she’d get whiny again. And she kept wetting her pants.”

Josiah didn’t think that last detail was important, but he tossed it in for the sake of completeness. Elkan frowned thoughtfully. “How often, do you know?”

Josiah wrinkled his brow, trying to remember. “We had to change her clothes twice, plus I took her to the privy a bunch of times.”

“Perhaps an infection of the bladder.” Elkan turned to Gilon. “Was she feverish?”

He pondered, and then shrugged helplessly. “Not this morning. Before that, I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Sairna. Bethiav hasn’t wanted anyone but her lately.”

Elkan’s eyes went unfocused as he named over the symptoms to himself, and maybe to Sar. “Fussiness, frequent urination, followed by vomiting and lethargy… Anything else?”

Gilon shook his head. Josiah thought back on his interaction with Bethiav. “She was awfully thirsty. The first night we were there, she was all whiny until I brought her some water. And she kept wanting to stop for drinks while we were playing.”

Elkan went very still. He swallowed and closed his eyes. “Dear Mother, not that.”

“What?” Gilon demanded, as Josiah stared at Elkan, wide-eyed.

He shook his head. “Just get us back as quickly as you can.”

It was dark when the wagon arrived at Gilon and Sairna’s house. Tersira came out as they pulled up. She took the horses’ heads. “I’ll take care of them. You go on in.”

“Any change?” Gilon’s voice was strained.

She shook her head, her eyes dark, and motioned them inside.

The family clustered around the fire. Tiah and Adrel, Hanan and Fibor were all there. Bethiav’s bed had been brought downstairs so she could be as close as possible to the warmth of the fire. She lay still, a tiny motionless form huddled under blankets, quiet except for ragged breathing.

Sairna sat by her side, stroking her hair. Her face broke into fierce hope as she looked up and saw them. “You’re here!” She ducked her head again, murmuring to Bethiav. “Look, Bethi, your Uncle Elkan’s here. He’ll make everything better.”

Sar close beside him, Elkan came to his niece’s bedside with his usual calm poise, but Josiah noticed his fingers wound tight in Sar’s mane. Sairna bit her lip as he knelt by the bed. “Please, you can heal her, can’t you?”

“We’ll do our best.” Elkan hesitated a moment, drew a deep breath, and extended his hand. Golden light poured out and engulfed Bethiav’s body.

Even the orange light from the fire couldn’t disguise the chalky pallor of Elkan’s face. His hand shook as the Mother’s light faded. He looked up at the ring of expectant faces.

“She’s…” He cleared his voice, and tried again. “She’s suffering from a disease that wizards call diabetes. There’s… there’s nothing we can do.”

Blank uncomprehending looks met his statement. Sairna frowned at him. “But if you know what it is, the Mother’s power should be able to fix it.”

He seated himself on the edge of the bed and folded Sairna’s hands in his. “It’s not that simple.” His voice was low and rough. “It’s a confusing disease; we can feel what’s going on, but it’s hard to understand. Wizards have spent a long time studying it. There’s a substance in the blood, we don’t know exactly what it does, but the body has to have it, otherwise it’s like they’re starving, even though they have plenty to eat. There’s an organ just below the stomach that makes it. Sometimes, we don’t know why, the parts that make this substance start to die. By the time a patient shows symptoms, almost all of it is dead. And the Mother’s power can’t reverse death.”

Elkan swallowed. “The body doesn’t grow more of this particular part, so there’s no healing to accelerate. We can stop the last little bit from dying, and cause it to make the substance faster than it normally would. But it’s only enough if we catch it very early, as soon as the symptoms start. By the time a patient enters a coma—” His voice broke. “I’m so sorry.”

Sairna was very still. She pulled her hands from Elkan’s and turned away from him, looking instead at her daughter’s pale face. “You’re saying that… she’s going to die.”

Elkan shut his eyes. “Yes.”

Murmurs of disbelief and horror ran around the room, but Sairna ignored them. “And there’s nothing you can do?”

“We can ease any discomfort, though since she’s unconscious she doesn’t feel anything. Maybe slow the process a little…”

Sairna shook her head. “Please. Leave. I want to be alone with her. Gilon, stay please, but everyone else… just go.”

Slowly, they complied. Hanan led a weeping Tiah outside. Tersira met Fibor at the door, and he whispered the news to her. She clutched his hand. Adrel marched out, stony faced. Josiah trailed behind Elkan as he made his way reluctantly toward the door. Before he left, Elkan looked back. Sairna gathered Bethiav in her arms and rocked back and forth, her eyes closed. Gilon went to her side and put his arms around her. He looked at Elkan, pain naked on his face, and gave a little nod. Elkan turned and went through the door.

Outside, Josiah stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Tobi came and twined around his legs. He dropped to his knees and put his arms around her neck, burying his face in her fur, surrounded by her warm musky scent.

Eventually he looked up. Elkan stood, breathing deeply, hands twined in Sar’s mane. Tiah scrubbed at her eyes with her sleeve, patted Hanan’s hand, and pulled away. “No use all of us standing around out here in the dark. Everyone come up to the house. I’ll warm us up something to eat. Gilon can come fetch us when… if we’re needed.”

Everyone nodded and drew together into a knot, seeking the comfort of their family’s closeness as they walked down the path to the other house. But as Elkan moved to take his place in the cluster, Adrel stepped in his way. “I think you should leave.”

Elkan stopped. “Father? I can’t go; we need to stay nearby in case Bethiav needs us. Besides, I want to be with all of you…”

Adrel shook his head. “You’ve already said there was nothing you can do. Tersira, go get anything they left in the wagon.”

Tiah raised her voice in protest. “Elkan, don’t listen to him. Of course you must stay. Adrel, stop this nonsense.”

“Nonsense?” Adrel’s voice rose dangerously high. “It’s wizardry that’s nonsense. Nothing but charlatans, the lot of them. What have they ever offered us but false hopes and disappointment? I’ll not have one under my roof, nor on the land I hold in trust.”

Tiah faced her husband, drawing herself up to her full diminutive height. “It’s my land and my roof as well, and Elkan is our son.”

Adrel didn’t budge. “Not as long as he remains a part of that mockery of a guild.”

Tiah’s jaw trembled, and tears wet her face, but she didn’t back down. “Would you force me to chose between the two of you? I never thought our bond could be broken—”

“Don’t, Mother,” Elkan cut in, laying a hand on her arm. “It’s not worth it. I’ll go.” He stared hard at his father. “You’re wrong, Father, but I won’t fight with you. Josiah, come with me.” He followed Tersira. With a apprehensive look back at Adrel, she led him toward the barn where she’d taken the wagon. Josiah trailed behind.

Fibor came with them. “Look, Elkan, come stay at our house. Father has no right—”

“No.” Elkan shook his head. “It’s better this way. The last thing any of you need is for me to stay and be a source of conflict. And there’s no need to cause a break between you and Father, as well.” Elkan busied himself reloading Sar’s gear; Josiah hurried to help. “We’ll camp near the first crossroads. You’ll bring us word, when…”

“Of course.” Fibor and Tersira helped them with the harness.

When Sar was ready, Elkan shouldered his pack. Josiah picked up his own and slung it on his back. Elkan looked at Fibor. “Give Sairna my love, and Hanan, and Mother. Tell Father… No, never mind.”

Elkan embraced his brother and set off down the dark road.

They set up their tent a few miles down the road. Josiah crawled between the blankets and tried to sleep, but Elkan sat by the fire. Sar lay down next to him and Elkan put his arms around the donkey’s neck. Josiah kept waking from a fitful slumber to see the two of them still there, unmoved.

Soon after dawn Fibor came with the news that Bethiav had died. Elkan thanked him but said little else. He watched silently as his brother walked back towards his home. When Fibor had vanished over a low rise, Elkan beckoned to Josiah, and they wordlessly broke camp and set off in the opposite direction.

Twenty-Five

T
he waiting couple were older than the usual new parents who brought their babies to Elkan with minor complaints, needing mostly reassurance and comfort. By the time they were on their third or fourth child, most parents had learned to tell the difference between little things that would heal on their own and serious problems that needed a wizard’s attention. So Josiah would have been willing to move them to the front of the line, but the woman shook her head, preferring to wait her turn. The baby slept peacefully in its carrying cloth. They gave their names as Masters Gavili Fisherkin Carpenter and Etan Herderkin Fisher. Josiah carefully inscribed their names in Elkan’s record book, along with the baby’s, Emeli Carpenterkin.

The book was nearly full, the thick stack of filled pages testament to the many varied patients Elkan and Sar had tended during their journey. Josiah flipped through the few blank pages remaining. They still had a month or so left until they reached Elathir. If they ran out of room they’d have to find a papermaker and purchase supplemental sheets.

Josiah had finished checking in the waiting patients by the time Elkan was ready to see the baby. He turned his chair to watch unobtrusively. He liked to see if he could figure out the problem from what a patient said, before Elkan and Sar went in with the Mother’s power and confirmed a diagnosis. He was getting quite good at the game.

Master Gavili had a low, worried voice. “It’s not just the way she looks. She doesn’t nurse well, and she’s not growing like she should. She seems weak, not like the others did at this age, and she’s getting weaker every day. She’s nearly a month old, but she’s barely bigger than when she was born.”

Elkan saw plenty of babies with nursing difficulties or slow growth, and was usually able to correct the problem easily. But the comment about the baby’s looks piqued Josiah’s curiosity. He scooted around to get a better view as Gavili removed Emeli from the carry cloth and displayed her to Elkan.

Josiah saw immediately what she meant. The baby had odd, blunt features, with a strange fold at the inner corners of her eyelids. Her skin had a wan, grayish tone. She whimpered, her sleep disturbed, then settled back in her mother’s arms. As Josiah looked at her, he got a feeling of déjà vu. Could he have seen features like that before somewhere?

Elkan paused, then touched the little girl’s eyes. He lifted her hand, and opened it to reveal a single deep crease across the palm. He was calm and professional when he spoke. “We’ll check with the Mother’s power, of course. But these signs are typical of a fairly common pattern of development. People born this way tend to have a cluster of common traits and disabilities. Heart problems—I suspect that’s why Emeli isn’t growing properly. That can be repaired. But I’m afraid nothing can be done about the other effects.”

Master Etan looked taken aback. “What other effects?”

Elkan’s voice was unemotional. “Primarily, slow mental development. She’ll most likely have a child’s mind her whole life.”

Gavili gasped. “What? Will she not be able to apprentice, learn a craft?”

Elkan shook his head. “Possibly, but usually people with this condition remain wards of their kinguild. Although they can often do some work, and find satisfaction in contributing, even if not able to fully support themselves.”

That triggered Josiah’s memory. There had been a man, back in Korisan, who’d helped out at one of his friends’ father’s stone yard, carrying the heavy paving stones, loading and unloading the wagons. He’d been a ward of the Stonemasons’ Guild, still bearing only his kin-name, even though he was old enough to be a journeyman. By his features, he could have been this girl’s brother. While Josiah understood the parents’ distress, he didn’t think the man had such a bad life. He’d seemed very happy.

Etan leaned toward Elkan, his eyes troubled. “The Mother’s power can’t heal her?”

“I’m sorry. It’s not a disease or disfunction; it’s written into the pattern of her being. It’s part of who she is. The Mother’s power can’t change that.”

Josiah frowned at Elkan. The words were the same as he might ever have used, but his tone was so flat and detached. As if he didn’t care. As if it didn’t bother him that he was helpless in the face of this baby’s affliction.

This had always been the sort of thing that troubled Elkan the most. If Elkan had encountered Emeli a few months ago, Josiah would have expected him to spend an extra-long session brushing Sar that night, and to be subdued for a day or two. But since their stay with his family and Bethiav’s death, Elkan had been different. Quieter, less likely to either tease and laugh or scold and lecture. But on the occasions when he did become angry at Josiah, his temper was hotter and his words more blunt, sometimes hurtful.

Josiah was worried about the wizard. He got the feeling Sar was, too. The donkey stuck even closer than was his habit to Elkan’s side, hardly ever leaving him alone. But Elkan turned away from Sar’s touch, refusing his offered support.