The walls of Bambridge rose stark and strong against the clouded sky. Behind the high walls Eban could just make out the Sanctuary spire. He smiled at the sight and felt the tension in his neck and shoulders ease. He may not know what lay beyond those walls yet, but he was finally close enough to help.
"Finally." Eban glanced at Arran, seeing his own relief echoed on his friend's face.
It had been a long journey to Bambridge. What should have taken three days - the average journey time on foot from Barkon - had taken over a week. Whiting had seen the greatest delay. After their arrival and the message from Elaine, Eban had wanted to leave immediately. But the few minutes he spent at his house gathering supplies had been enough for the fastest of the townspeople to learn of his arrival and station themselves just outside. When he tried to leave, he found a queue of people waiting, all of whom were desperate to be checked for any possible infection. And Eban could hardly deny them.
It took two days for him to check everyone who came. Thank the gods, he found no sign of infection, but the searching and scanning left him tired enough that he was forced to wait another night before he could leave.
Cedric and Arran had been waiting at the end of his path the morning of his departure. Eban did not bother trying to dissuade them from coming. He was sure their parents had already said plenty and clearly to no avail. Besides, it had always been the three of them, as far back as Eban could remember. Eban was willing to bet that it had been from birth, considering he was the youngest of them. Having them with him was only natural. Even if it meant he had two more people to look after, Eban was glad they were there.
Bambridge was not as still as Eban had expected it to be from the reports and rumours they had heard on the way. A yellow flag of quarantine flew above the walls, but the sounds of any large town filtered through - murmurs from hundreds of voices, the occasional wail of a child, the low thunder of horses hooves and the accompanying whiney of protestation. Whatever was happening beyond the walls, those were not the sound of deserted streets and hopelessness.
The town guards were quick to respond to the sound of Arran pounding at the gates. As gentle as he was most of the time, Arran was the son of a blacksmith and had the upper body strength to match. No one wanted to listen to the sound of his fist hitting the solid oaken door any longer than necessary.
"What do you want?" A man, with an expression as irritated as his tone, appeared above the gates. "Can't you see the flag? We're in quarantine. No one in or out."
"That's why we're here," Eban called up. "I'm a Healer. I can help."
Even from the distance, Eban could feel the contempt of the guard as he gave him a once over. There were times when he hated being so young. No one ever took him seriously. Not unless he was angry. And Eban hated getting angry.
"Thanks, but we've got two Healers in here already, and they're doing fine on their own. The lady said the gates should be okay to open in the next few days. Better you go on and see if anyone else needs your help."
"The lady?" Eban asked. "Elaine?"
"You know her?" The guard's sceptical tone made it clear that he doubted anyone as lowly as Eban could possibly know Elaine.
Eban bit his cheek to stop a grin. His mother always did know how to make herself indispensable.
"She's my mother. I understand that you don't want us inside, but can you bring her out? I need to talk to her."
The guard glared down. "Very well. Wait there." He disappeared behind the battlements.
"Where exactly does he expect us to go?" Cedric muttered.
"More importantly," Arran said, "If we can't go in, where are we going to go?"
"Excuse me!"
All three boys turned at the cry. A woman ran towards them. Behind her lay the abandoned huts that had housed tradesmen and refugees, until the fade had driven them away.
She reached them quickly but took a moment to regain her breath before speaking. "I apologise for eavesdropping, but I couldn't help but hear that you're a Healer."
Eban nodded.
"Can you heal someone of the fade? I've heard it's not something all Healers can do."
"That's true," Eban said, "But not of me. Do you know someone infected?"
"A child." The woman stared at him beseechingly. "I'd have brought her here, but I fear travelling would be too much. And those bloody guards won't let me in to speak with the Healer they have in there. I don't know how much time the girl has."
"We'll come," Eban said softly. "Where is she?"
The woman hesitated. "Will you come, no matter how far...or how dangerous?" she asked.
"I'll come." Eban glanced at Arran and Cedric, silently asking for their own answers. Both nodded.
The woman opened her mouth, but another voice spoke before she could.
"Eban!"
He turned back to the walls. Up in the battlements stood Elaine, flanked by her honour guard of Bambridge's city guardsmen.
"Mother. How is everything in the town?"
Elaine smiled. She leant heavily against the battlements, and Eban could see new lines decorating her face, but still, she smiled.
"We're winning, lad. There's a few more to check, but soon Bambridge will be clear."
"And you?" Eban asked.
"A good week-long sleep wouldn't go amiss, but otherwise I'm fine. I've had help."
"Good." Eban glanced back at his friends, and at the woman who had come to him for help. To Elaine, he said, "If you don't need me, I'm going on. This woman..." he hesitated, realising he had never asked for her name.
"Keela," she supplied.
Eban smiled his thanks. "Keela has a patient for me."
Elaine frowned. "Where? Everything beyond Bambridge lies within the Serral duchy. It's not safe, Eban."
"I know I'm asking a lot," Keela said, her eyes passing from Elaine to Eban and back again, clearly undecided on who she needed to convince. "But little Cadi will not last without help, and there is no help in Serrant. Please."
"Serrant? No, Eban." Elaine leant dangerously over the battlements as she tried to reach him. Eban felt his magic stirring, ready to catch her should she lean too far. "I'll finish here in a day or so. Then I'll go."
"You're exhausted, Mother. You need to rest. Besides, I'm more than capable of managing the fade. I'll be fine."
"You know it's not the fade I'm worried about. Serrant...there's no worse place for a mage."
Eban met his mother's eyes. He could see her fear, and he knew it went beyond simply dreading what the Serrant guards would make of a Healer. But he would not leave a patient, not if he could help, and especially not if they were a child. Elaine knew that. After all, she was the one who had raised him.
She seemed to shrink as he watched, her exhaustion finally getting the better of her as she realised she had lost this argument.
"Alright. Alright. Go, lad, but please be careful." Elaine glanced over them, catching and holding both Cedric and Arran's gaze. "That goes for the two of you too. No trouble."
"We'll be careful, Aunt Elaine," Cedric said.
Her frown deepened. "Arran, you'll keep an eye on them, won't you?"
"Of course. We'll be fine, I promise." Arran ignored Cedric's eye roll and Eban's grin.
"Then I wish you luck. May the Fates' blessing go with you."
They went the rest of the way on horseback. Keela had ridden to Bambridge with a spare horse in tow, ready to return as quickly as possible. They rode double, and Cedric, who rode with Arran, barely stopped commenting on the number and location of new bruises and saddle sores he was accumulating over the course of their trip.
The horses made Eban nervous, though he pushed the feeling aside. They were exceptionally well bred. Whoever this child was, she came from a family with money. A lot of money. And there were not many families left in Serrant who could afford such horses.
His nerves did not improve as they reached the city's gates. A queue stretched out from the gates as people waited to enter. Keela guided her horse off the road, overtaking the men, women and children waiting. Behind, Arran steered their horse after them. Both boys' expressions mirrored the anxiety in Eban's heart. These people were refugees, whether from war or disease only the Fate's knew. He just hoped they would find some measure of safety here.
Armed guards stood at the gates, with bow and sword clearly visible. From the tense movements and sheer number of men and women wearing the uniform of Serrant's City Watch, Eban wondered whether those weapons had seen recent use.
Keela's approach added to the nervous energy of the guards. They scrabbled to meet her, clearly fearing that she would attempt to force her way through. They relaxed a little as she slowed, then further as she was recognised.
"Open the gates for the Lady!"
The call went up before Keela reached the gates. They did not stop the horses, though Keela slowed enough to shout her thanks to the guards as they passed. Eban doubted the guards heard her thanks. The moment the crowd outside noticed the gates opening, they surged forward, eager to grasp the opportunity. The guards were shouting themselves hoarse trying to get their threats and pleas heard above the din.
Over his shoulder, Eban watched the gates swing shut again. No one made it past the guards, but the shouts of the crowd could be heard a long way into the city.
Serrant was much like any city in Ferann. It had once been wealthy, but that was long enough ago most of the remaining splendour existed more in the memories of the people who walked its streets than in the streets themselves. Despite the loss of wealth, Serrant did not show the signs of the absolute poverity seen in many of the smaller towns and villages that still existed this close to the Agaithian border. Serral was a province rich in minerals, including iron. Unlike farms, mines could not be put to the fire or plundered easily, and those who lived and worked them could expect much better protection from both lesser and higher nobility. And, unlike oats and barley, iron still fetched a good price at market, especially in towns that required stocks to supply new steel to the armies that fought along the border and to the guards that protected the settlements that lived too close to the trouble to remain unscathed.
The resulting trickle of wealth, and the shrewdness of the Duke of Serral, had kept Serrant afloat. While the splendour of previous generations faded, Serrant had developed a practicality that now defined the heart of the city. Nothing was replaced without good reason, nothing important was allowed to deteriorate, and no one was allowed to go hungry. Hunger and dilapidation led to illness, disease and dissatisfaction. In a city as central to the war efforts as Serrant, any of those three could be fatal. The Duke did what he needed to keep his citizens happy. As a result, his citizens were, for the most part, loyal to the wishes, and eccentricities, of their duke.
Keela led them into the wealthiest quarter of the city, where the buildings rose higher and the stone bore decorations that a long-dead mason would have considered the pinnacle of their career. She dismounted by one such building that bore a peeling sign by its front door.
Cedric whistled low as he took in the sight of The Falcon's Rest. "If it looks as impressive on the inside, I think I've found paradise."
"Gods, I hope not," Arran muttered.
Eban supressed his grin as he dismounted. Keela had handed her reigns to an approaching stable girl and walked into the inn, leaving Eban to follow.
The interior of the Falcon's Rest far exceeded its exterior. Polished stone floors met them at the entrance and continued to an oversized redwood reception desk. The reception room was decorated with tapestries richly embroidered with hunting and feasting scenes, and in between each tapestry silver lamp sconces reflected the light of the flame across the room. To one side, plush velvet armchairs hugged a fireplace large enough to fit all the chairs comfortably.
A bored-looking woman waited for Eban to approach the desk. Eban smiled apologetically at her and ran to catch up with Keela, who had already reached the stairs and was taking them two at a time.
The first floor lacked some of the grandness of the reception room. After all, there was no need to ensnare potential customers up here. But while the tapestries were simpler and a little more faded, there was a warmth that had been missing from the ground floor.
Eban did not have time to sate his curiosity about the tapestries. Even as he reached the landing, Keela was stepping through a door at the end of the hall. Her haste was infectious, and Eban hurried to catch up.
The room he entered was dark, musty and burning hot. Thick curtains covered the windows, preventing both light and fresh air from entering the room. A fire burned in the grate. Its heat filled the chamber and scented the air with more than just burning wood. At the opposite side of the room lay a four-poster bed, its curtains open but its contents hidden from view.
Two unknown women were in the chamber. Keela stood and spoke softly with an older woman, who glanced at Eban as he entered and acknowledged him with a nod. The second stranger sat on a chair alongside the bed. She gave no indication of awareness to his presence; her entire focus was centred on the bed and its occupant.
With no one telling him to go, and no one complaining as he approached, Eban walked to the bed and knelt by it.
A girl, perhaps seven or eight, lay within. Her breathing was ragged, harsh and far too slow for Eban's liking. Her skin, when he reached to touch her forehead, was clammy with sweat and boiling hot. The gentle probe he sent into her came back quickly, easily confirming what Keela had already told him. The child had the fade.
"Can you help her?"
Eban glanced up. The older woman studied him with a ferocity that would have made him nervous, if he had any doubt in his abilities as a Healer. Even then, he found himself hesitating.
"She's very ill."
The older woman's gaze did not relent. "Can you help her?"
"Yes. But if I do, you must allow me to check you," he glanced at the woman by the bed, "both of you. There's every chance that you are infected too, and I cannot have you leave here until I'm sure there is no chance of you passing it on to others."
"Very well. Once Cadi is alright, both Riona and I will allow you to test us."
Eban nodded. Her imperious manner, coupled with the horses and the obvious cost of this room, were giving him a very bad feeling. Better not prolong this any longer than necessary.
He turned to Keela. "When Cedric and Arran come up, please tell them to wait outside. I'd rather not risk anyone else coming in here until the fade has been eliminated."
Keela nodded and moved to be closer to the door, ready to receive the others before they could come in.
Eban knelt by the bed again and reached for the child with both fingers and magic. By the time his fingertips brushed against the skin of her forehead, his magic had permeated into every cell of her body. He ignored the gasps that came from all three women as his own body lit up in reaction to the magic. It was a reaction he had heard many times before. Besides, now he had enough light to work with.
For Eban, removing an infection, no matter how strong its hold on its host, had never been difficult. The tricky part was killing the infection without killing his patient.
The first wave of magic he sent through Cadi identified every uninfected cell of her body and surrounded it in a protective web.
The second wave surged through, obliterating everything that remained unprotected.
The third wave cleaned up the debris left by the second.
He repeated the pattern three more times. By the third cycle, the surges of destruction left no debris to be cleared away, and he knew the healing was complete.
He sighed, rocking back on his heals as he carefully withdrew the magic tendrils from Cadi. As the light faded from their bodies, the room grew dark again.
He stood, stretching the tension caused by the healing from his body. Moving around the bed, he gently caught Riona's hand and sent a probe through her, scanning. His grip tightened as he detected signs of early infection and relaxed again as he eliminated the threat.
He smiled at Riona as he released her hand. "You'll be fine. You both will," he added as he saw the concern in her eyes as her gaze was drawn back to Cadi.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Eban nodded. "Open the curtains, my lady. Some light and fresh air would do you all good."
He strode to the older woman and held out his hand to her. "My lady, may I?"
"You're much more polite with me than you were with my daughter."
"My mother taught me to respect my elders." He smiled. "And there's more time to waste with unnecessary titles now."
She smiled and took his hand. His probe, quick and thorough, revealed nothing. As the magic faded from his eyes, Riona drew the curtains open, letting the afternoon light drive away any fears his magic had not. As the light fell on his face, the woman in front of him gasped.
Shock and recognition.
He released her hand and stepped back, not understanding the depth of emotions he saw running over her face.
"My lady?" Keela asked, stepping away from the door.
"Who are you?" the woman asked, her voice flattened by the weight of her recognition.
"I -"
The door burst open and crashed against the wall. All four in the room jumped.
In her bed, Cadi woke. As she took in the sight of her mother, grandmother, guard and the stranger being knocked to the ground by ducal guards, she screamed.