Champions of Serenity :Gathering the Circle
Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter 24

Trisinda ran into the caravan early the next morning. They were on the way to Jentro for a spring trading fair and had spent a hard winter within the Samtin forest. She hadn’t been looking for company, but after Rehven, she thought it best if she traveled with someone for a while, so the Elite would lose the trail of a single girl from the North.

Jonas Topsawer, the leader of the caravan, was a good, honest man with the gypsy love of wandering. When Tris had stepped out of the woods beside one of the wagons, she was instantly seized and held for Jonas.

A large man, eyes of soft doe brown and dark hair, he had the look of a man who was used to getting his way in life. He had seen many troubles and heartache, but he also knew how to laugh.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” His voice was gruff, pitched to be threatening, his sword drawn and ready but not raised.

Tris thought a moment about what she should tell him and decided on the story she’d been telling along the road. “My name is Tris and I’m going to Meckadon to live with my uncle. I don’t have much, just my lute, a sword, and my staff, a few provisions. I would gladly exchange songs for food and shelter.”

“We don’t need any traveling musicians, Missy, we have music enough.” He crossed his arms, his sword still in his hand, hanging all but useless at his side. He looked her over from the top of her honey colored braid to the dust on her leather boots. “You don’t look like trouble, Missy, but most people don’t and the most innocent are the ones you have to watch the closest.”

Tris looked past him a moment when a weak cough caught her attention. Reaching out with her mind, she found the wagons with the sick and dying in its own circle outside the other circle of wagons. A worried frown crossed her brow and she made an abortive move toward the smaller circle.

Jonas narrowed his eyes at the movement and didn’t have to look over his shoulder to see what she was looking at. “You are healer, missy?” He shook her shoulder to pull her attention back to him, and then he repeated the question.

“I have some talent with herbs. I nursed my grandmother until she died last winter. That cough, if you beg my pardon, isn’t good. I think I might have something to help it.” She looked at him a moment, but most of her attention was on the sick. It wouldn’t be easy and it would take a touch of magic, but she could save every one of them, if she hurried.

“Babbit!” Tris startled at the bellow from Jonas and saw him sheath his sword. A boy of about twelve came running around a wagon and skidded to a halt by Jonas; the stamp of the father clearly on the son. “Babbit, take young Tris here to your ma. Get her anything she needs. She’s a healer and is going to try to save those with the sickness.” Then Jonas looked to Tris. “We don’t need a musician, but if you will travel with us for a while as our healer, you may share our food and shelter.”

He held out his right hand to her to seal the deal. Without thinking, she took his hand and nodded. Then she followed Babbit to the sick wagons aside from the others.

Stepping into the smoky darkness of the wagon, Tris was hit by waves of fever. If she had been human, she would have cried at the sight that met her eyes. A woman, old before her time lay swathed in blankets along with three young children, one just a baby. All four were standing on the edge of death and holding on by will alone. The baby would die within the hour if it wasn’t treated and soon. And this wagon was just one of five.

“Me Da, he likes you, I c’n tell, he didna make you swear no oaths. You gonna help my ma and baby sister? They’s real bad off.” Trisinda stopped at the top step of the wagon and looked down into the earnest face of the boy. She heard music in his voice and knew he would grow to be a bard if trained properly. She also heard the caring heart of a boy who was afraid for his family.

“Babbit, I’m going to do all that I can to help all the sick here. I need you to get the biggest kettle you can find and boil water in it…I need a lot of boiling water. Then I need you to fill every empty wine skin and water jug with the coldest water you can find. Bring the cold containers to me as soon as they are filled. When the water has boiled, let me know and I’ll give you herbs to steep in it. Do you understand?” She made her voice soft for his concern, but urgent to make him feel important and the need of the situation. He nodded and she went in the wagon and closed the door behind her.

Closing her eyes, she drew her magic around her again, filling the darkness within her with the light of healing and life. When she opened her eyes, they were deep purple and the smoky haze was violet. Picking up the baby first, she followed the path of air from the infants mouth deep into her lungs and then through her blood and body. Finding all the ugly black places within the tiny body, she filled them with her light. The black of the illness was oily and didn’t want to leave the rich blood of the infant’s tiny life, so the battle for healing was hard. Little by little, the blackness turned deep crimson, then bile green, and finally fled the onslaught of Tris’s healing.

It took no more than a few moments, but it seemed an eternity. Tris laid the baby down, listening a moment as it breathed easier and slept the healthy sleep of the young. A knock sounded at the door and without looking, she took the cold packs from whomever was handing them to her. She then pulled back layers from the woman and other children and added the cold skins and bottles around them to cool them down.

As the last trace of the lingering cough fled the woman’s body, the last in that wagon to be healed, another knock sounded at the door. Babbit’s voice sounded reverently. “Tris, the water, it’s boiling. Coo…it don’t stink like death in here anymore.” His innocence voiced what Tris was thinking.

Reaching into one of her cloak pockets, she pulled out two packets of herbs. Glancing at one, she put it back into her pocket and handed the other to Babbit. “Brew this in the boiling water. Everyone in the camp is to drink some, but those that are sick should get the first mug. They need it as soon as the water has turned blue. Sweeten it with honey; it will help make it easier to swallow. Then get me more cold packs for the other wagons. This night isn’t over yet.”

Tris moved blindly from one wagon to another; her head swimming with the amount of healing she had to do just to keep death from coming to this camp. The more of this black sickness that she fought, the more it came to her... it wasn’t natural. Someone had deliberately tried to kill this caravan and had almost succeeded.

Stumbling from the final wagon in the sick circle, she almost fell but was caught by a pair of strong arms. A mug was thrust into her hands and she drank the steaming liquid without thinking about it. It needed more honey, she thought as she allowed herself to be guided to a stump that served as a stool. She handed the mug back and let her head hang between her knees so the rush of magic leaving her blood wouldn’t cause her to pass out.

“She’s exhausted, let her rest. Tomorrow’s soon enough for words with the healer.” Tris heard the words but they didn’t register, she was fighting down the need to placate her Demon blood for the use of magic. Sometimes, not always, but sometimes she could use magic to heal without having to kill afterwards. She prayed this would be one of those times.

Another mug was pushed into her hands and she tried to refuse it. “Drink it; it will help with the weakness.” The voice was new to her, yet familiar somehow. Taking the mug, she smelled it and pushed it away again.

“No spirits. That will only make it worse. Water, cold and clear, that will help more.” Her voice was tired, more tired than she thought. A moment later, a cold water bottle was pressed into her hands and she drank deeply. This was one of those times when the Demon blood would be held at bay, at least for now. When the last of the magic had left her blood, she opened her eyes, knowing they would be blue again to see who the man was who was helping her.

His eyes were dark brown with a hint of gold in them and his hair was a deep chestnut brown. He smelled of the wilds, this man was more than he appeared, like many of those she had healed. She understood why they had been given such a deadly illness once she figured out she wasn’t treating normal humans. His face was gentle as he tried to help her, not understanding that the wild tang of his being was setting off her Demon blood in response.

“I’m Meckin Topsawer. Babbit went to bed an hour ago and Jonas asked that I be at hand to assist you. What can I get for you; stew, bread, cheese, wine?”

Tris shook her head. “No, thank you, Meckin, I don’t need anything right now but rest. The water helped a great deal.” This man caused her problems, she knew him from her dreams, but not as clearly as she knew the others. He was like the thief, vague, misty, not yet real. She didn’t know what it all meant, but she knew that he had a part to play in her future. “I’ll just take a walk for a few minutes and then come and sleep by the fire. The smoke from the wagons…I need to clear my head still.”

Meckin lifted his hand as if to stop her, but she moved away without seeing it. He watched the woods where she had gone and wondered about this strange girl. She troubled him like no other girl ever had. So caught up was he in thinking about her, he almost missed his brother coming up behind him.

“Trouble, Meckin?”

“No, Jonas, not the kind you can fight with a sword. It’s just…something about her. It’s like trying to remember a dream, fragments come to you and you think you have it and then it’s gone again. She disturbs my peace.”

Jonas laughed and clapped his brother on the shoulder and guided him back into the main camp. “Brother, a woman is supposed to do that to a man, it’s part of their charm. And it seems that finally one has caught your eye. Good for her and good for you. I’ll drink a toast to your health.”

Meckin shook his head, still troubled. The scream of an animal falling prey to a hunter filled the air a moment and then the normal night sounds returned. “Not just yet, Jonas. I want to know this girl longer before we start building a wagon together. Something isn’t quite…..”

“Don’t tell me that girl is evil, Meckin, I won’t believe it. She just about killed herself saving my people, your people, our people from that cursed illness He sent us. No one who would put their life on the line for total strangers and those hunted by Him is evil in my book.”

Meckin again shook his head. “No, she isn’t evil, and I wasn’t going to say that. I don’t know what it is, Jonas, but she doesn’t smell right for some reason. She’s hiding something, deep inside and it pains her, but she won’t let it out, like a festering wound.”

“Listen to my brother, talk about a healer who needs healing. Meckin, no one with a festering anything could have saved so many lives. You and I both know that from the old tales. You and I both know that it’s coming close to the time when the Heroes foretold will come forth. Maybe we have just met one.”

Meckin scoffed and took the wine skin from his brother and drained it in a single drink. “Not likely, not us. Heroes visit big cities, not gypsies, Jonas, not us.”

Another scream from yet another animal throat filled the night air. Both brothers looked at each other. “There is a creature out there tonight. Tell the guards to keep a sharp eye out for it.”

“Jonas, Tris is out there. She took a walk.”

Jonas looked out into the intense blackness of the shadows under the trees. “We’ll know in the morning if she’s alive or not. It’s too late to do anything tonight, Meckin. You and I both know that. Trust that she will be okay.” Meckin nodded at his brother’s words, but sat up anyway to wait.

At dawn, Meckin woke with the soft closing of a wagon door. He looked up to see Tris step down from his sister in law’s wagon. She still looked tired, but not as exhausted as last night. Nodding at him, she joined him at the fire and accepted the water bottle from him.

“I was just making my rounds. Everyone is sleeping peacefully and within a few days, they will never know they’ve been sick. Do you know if everyone had a chance to drink that tea I had Babbit brew?”

“Yes, everyone’s had at least one mug of it, most have had two. Jonas insisted. When did you get back? I waited for you…”

Tris sat down and watched the flames dance on the wood in the fire pit. In a few moments, the camp would be awake and the day’s bustle began. She looked over at Meckin and understood his unspoken question.

“I didn’t want to wake you, you looked just as tired as I felt. Then I got up to look in on my patients and I was careful to not disturb you.” She pointed to a hollow in the ground opposite him, indicating she had slept there. “I’m sorry if you were worried about me.”

Meckin shrugged it off and then went to tell Jonas he was going hunting and would be back later. Tris would have liked to have helped with the camp work, but because those in the caravan knew what she had done to save the lives of their families, they wouldn’t allow her to. Instead, she was given time to check on those recovering and to tell stories to the little ones to keep them out from under foot.

“She knows him already and I haven’t begun the dreams of him yet.” Shægnek said, almost in complaint.

“Prophecy has a habit of doing that, Shægnek.” Serenity stated calmly. “I believe it is Debra recognizing Darin. Do not fret; the time will come when the dreams of the Wer and the Shadow will come of their own volition.”

“What if…”

“What ifs are Chaos’s realm, Sister, not mine. Talk to him about the what ifs. I must go and prepare for the meeting of the five.”

Shægnek stood at the window, her hands twisting knots in the fine silk of her gown’s belt. She had lived with Prophecy her whole life, why was this one suddenly different?

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With a sigh, Shægnek turned from the window. Father rarely gave answers; He made His children seek them on their own. Maybe it was just that she needed a rest. It had been so long since she had closed her eyes…

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