Mhera was prevented from responding to Matei's comment by Aun's arrival. The healer was coming from the other direction along the main road, carrying a basket that appeared to be quite heavy.
Aun smiled, breathlessly greeting them. "Ah! My favorite invalids. Surely you're not here to have your bandages checked already? There is such a thing as being overly cautious."
Matei opened the door for Aun. As the healer passed into her infirmary, Mhera saw that the basket was full of wet laundry. "No, that's not why we came," Matei said. "Let me take that for you, Aun."
"No, I like the exercise," she said, carrying the basket over to the hearth. The fire was burning although it was day and still rather warm outside; the pleasant smell of something herbal came from a pot hung over it. "I need to hang them up outside, but I wanted to put Mhera's dress by the hearth fire. I thought she might like to have her things closer to hand."
"Oh, you—you didn't need to do that," Mhera said, taken aback and embarrassed to discover that Aun had done her laundry.
The healer smiled and shrugged. "I was on the way anyway—no trouble, really. You can help me with it next time, if you like. Why have you come back? Just for the pleasure of my company?"
She set the basket down on the floor. A drying rack was already standing near the fireplace, draped with several linen bandages. Mhera looked around the infirmary. The old man who had been there had gone, and the place was empty except for the three of them.
"That, fair lady," Matei started, "and to ask a favor."
Aun rolled her eyes, bending to sort through the soaking clothes in the basket. "I should have known. It's never just 'fair lady' with you."
"I'd be happy to pay you some more compliments before I make my request. How many do you think will suffice?" Matei asked. He folded his arms over the book he carried and lifted his chin, apparently ready for the challenge.
Aun paused in the process of extricating Mhera's wet gown from the other clothes. "How many do you have?"
Mhera set the book Matei had given her aside. She moved closer to Aun and took the gown Rhea had given her from the healer's hands. "Thank you, Aun. Really." She shook it out and turned to drape it over the drying rack.
"Oh, plenty," Matei said. "You're very clever with tea, always coming up with the most interesting combinations! Some folk worry far too much about flavor. You never let that hold you back—"
"What!"
"—which reveals your deeply courageous nature. You're prettier than Uachi—"
Aun began to speak at the same time. "My teas are medicinal, Matei, and I—"
Matei stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. "—at least twice as pretty for sure," he mused, ignoring Aun's interruption. "Maybe twice and a half as much."
Rising in volume, Aun's voice competed with Matei's. "—am certain you're aware that there is magic in those brews—"
"Very difficult to compare, you've got very different bone structures—"
"—which contributes to their healing properties much more than the taste—"
"—but you do have freckles which, in my opinion, is one of the highest virtues one's nose can aspire to."
Mhera couldn't help it. She laughed.
Aun, tight-lipped and narrow-eyed, threw a stocking from her basket at Matei. It slapped wetly onto his tunic front. "Ask me. Ask me! The sooner you do, the sooner you'll go away."
Matei plucked the stocking off of his chest, held it up between forefinger and thumb, and then delicately dropped it back into the laundry basket. "It's a serious matter, actually. Mhera needs a place to sleep, and ... well, I need to stay in the council house."
"Oh, don't put the poor dear there," Aun said. She turned to Mhera, who had finished laying out her gown, and smiled. "You can stay here with me, if you like, Mhera. There's plenty of space. When it gets crowded—which it seldom does—I'm busy enough that I can't lie down, anyway."
Mhera returned Aun's smile, grateful for the woman's friendliness and her easy manner. "Aun, I would be happy to stay here. And to help you, too, in any way I can."
"She will be a bad influence on you, Mhera," Matei warned. "Rude. Talking over a man when he's trying to pay her compliments she herself requested. Honestly."
Mhera was not used to this volatile man's sense of humor. He had tried to use it on her a few times in the previous days and had failed; not only had she been far from in a laughing mood, humor had not seemed to match up with the man at all. Now, he was lighthearted, flippant—and it strangely seemed to suit the lighter side of him she saw when he was among his people.
"Perhaps I could use a bad influence," Mhera said.
Aun laughed. "Okay, we had an agreement, Matei: go away! I have work to do. I imagine you are hiding from an increasingly lengthy list of things to do right now, too."
"I am, actually," Matei said. Mhera saw him pat his pocket and remembered the bloodstone. "Another errand, and then a council meeting, and it's likely we'll all have a lot to do after that. Mhera ... a word, before I go?"
Mhera walked with Matei to the door of the infirmary, still reflecting on how good it was to have a friendly place to stay. At last, something had gone her way.
Matei stopped at the door, his hand on the door handle, and looked at Mhera as if for the first time. There was something soft in his expression.
"What?" Mhera asked.
"Nothing. It's just ... I'm not used to you smiling."
Mhera blinked in surprise, realizing that she was, in fact, smiling. "I'm not used to having a reason to. Not that all of this," and she gestured, indicating in the motion all that had happened and all that was yet to come, "is something to smile about. But at least I don't have to stay in that house with you."
But she knew the moment of truth was yet to come. Would they be able to part?
Matei nodded, his mouth curving into a smile of his own. "I hope you'll be happy staying here with Aun. She's a good woman."
There was an awkward pause. Mhera glanced at the door. "Will it work?" she whispered.
"I don't know, Mhera. This is as new to me as it is to you. Do you have anything you need to say to me, anything we need to discuss before I go?"
Mhera sighed. "I have a lot to say to you, Matei. But we agreed to save our quarrels for another day."
"So we did. I suppose we part in peace, then."
Mhera nodded. Without realizing it, she put a hand over her heart, bracing herself for the pain of the parting, bracing herself to go with Matei to the council house and stay there among the wolves.
The rebel hesitated. Then he pushed the door open and stepped out. He began to walk toward the main road, where turned to the right, toward the longhouse. Mhera watched him through the open door, almost trembling with relief, for she did not feel the pain of their parting this time.
"Mhera, sweet, don't close the door." Aun had taken up the heavy basket again and was coming toward her.
Mhera opened the door further and held it for the healer as she passed out into the sunshine. "Come with me," she said. "I'll show you where we hang the laundry. I hope you weren't just being polite when you said you wanted to help. I can only imagine Hanpe is about as far from life in the palace as you can get."
"It is," Mhera said, "But so was the Haven. I lived there as a Daughter for seven years. I am no stranger to hard work."
Aun looked back at Mhera in surprise as they walked around to the back of the infirmary. "The Haven? I think I have heard of it. A women's community, isn't it?"
"Yes. Servants of Zanara. It's on an island in the Tyrrian Sea off the coast of the Holy City."
"Ah. Starborn women, I assume."
Mhera felt suddenly awkward, realizing that Aun was right; no Arcborn women had served at the Haven. "Well ... at least in the time I was there, yes."
A clothesline had been stretched between a hook on the back of Aun's infirmary and one on a neighboring cottage. Beyond it, Mhera saw a small garden planted with an abundance of herbs and flowers. Aun set her basket on the ground.
"Well, no Starborn has been here in Hanpe before," Aun said, as if to break the awkward quiet.
Mhera bent and took up the first wet garment. "It was not ... planned," she said.
"From what Matei said in the longhouse, it sounds like a long story. You don't have to talk about it now. Not unless you want to."
"I don't, actually," Mhera said. "Thank you, Aun."
"Your story is your own to tell, Mhera. Folk are curious. And they're going to be afraid of you, suspicious of you. But, only understanding only a piece of what has happened, I imagine it is not a happy subject for you, so do not feel you have to tell it to everyone who asks. I don't think Matei will tell it. He is private about personal things."
"Aren't you afraid of me? Suspicious?"
Aun laughed. "Well, I'm sorry, Mhera, but you aren't exactly the most frightening person I've ever met. Suspicious? Yes. I suppose I can't help but be. But if you and Matei are blood-bound, there's no option but to have you here. Besides ... it's not as if you can run back to the capitol now with all our secrets. I'm sorry. Maybe it's cruel to say that. You must miss it."
But Mhera was not thinking of her home, not then. She had suddenly remembered the vision she had had of the mill. The vision that had led to the capture of Rhodana and, from what the folk in Hanpe had said the day before, a massacre of the rebels. Guilt slid through Mhera's heart, a cold serpent.
Together, she and Aun made quick work of hanging the clothes up to dry, sharing the rest of the task in silence. When they were finished, Mhera drew a deep breath. She smelled the forest: vast, green, earthy.
"Lovely, isn't it?" Aun asked. She took a deep breath of her own and smiled.
Mhera looked at her, wondering what she would say if she knew the part Mhera had played in the war.
"I'll show you my herb garden, if you like," Aun said. "How much do you know about healing?"
"Not very much at all," Mhera said.
She followed Aun, and she began to learn.