Mercy's Prince (19 page)

After
relieving her bladder beside the tree and washing her face in the river, she
took a long drink. Her throat was still painfully constricted and she could not
make a sound. She had to return to the village and decide what to do next. The
fires should have burned down, even if they were still smoldering and hot.

As
she neared the bluff, she saw vultures already circling, and her heart lurched.
Had the fires not done their work? Had they burned the cottages but left the
bodies exposed for the scavengers? Then she remembered: she had done nothing
about the dead sheep. Mercy ran up the path toward the gate.

***

Valerian
and Kieran awakened one hour after sunrise. When Kieran held up the royal
surcoat, Valerian shook his head.

“I
know Father said I must wear it, but he specified for the visits to the
garrisons. We are visiting three people who know me by sight, Eldred and Lord
Reed,” Valerian paused to swallow. “And Lady Hanalah. I want no special
treatment from anyone else.”

Kieran
frowned, but he didn’t argue. He outfitted Valerian in plain leathers. While
Kieran dressed himself, Valerian climbed the tower steps to greet the day. The
one guard nodded his head in greeting; everyone else still slept after the
night’s indulgence. When Valerian faced the west, the Plains of Mohorovia
changed from gray to red as the sun rose higher in the sky. Somewhere in that
vast nothingness the Horde were either dying off or preparing for something
sinister. Was it possible to discover the truth? Would it make any difference
if Valerian were to stay and help with the search?

Valerian
shook his head and shut his eyes. He had to stop putting doubts into his mind.
Shouldn’t he make a decision and stand by it? Even if it turned out to be the
wrong decision, he wouldn’t accomplish anything by wavering. He said a prayer
for the safety and success of the men of the garrison, especially the ten whom
he had come to like and appreciate, not as underlings to be controlled, but as
fellow human beings. And he asked the Most High to watch over him and Kieran,
no matter what happened next.

One
by one, the men under his command awakened. As Valerian spoke to each man, they
gripped forearms as comrades and wished one another well. The squire Terron
held the reins of Valerian’s horse while he mounted, and Valerian raised a hand
to his men and Sir Walter, who had also come out to bid them farewell. Then,
before he could change his mind, Valerian turned the horse toward the open gate
and galloped away. He glanced back once to make sure Kieran followed.

The
morning remained mild with no wind. The horses climbed the winding road that
briefly turned south. As they crested the cliff, Valerian glanced back down at
the garrison a final time. From this distance, it appeared small and lonely
against the backdrop of the vast empty plains.

They
rode at an easy pace for the rest of the day. Oddly, there was no one else
along the road, and it appeared to have seen little use of late. Kieran found
an elevated spot for a campsite, and they built a small fire. While they ate
cold meat and bread from the garrison, Kieran stood.

“Sire,
look.” He pointed south.

Valerian
stood beside him and saw the yellowish glow of multiple fires.

“I
wonder what’s burning. Was it deliberately set, do you think?”

“Difficult
to say, Sire. We can investigate in the morning, if you wish.”

“Let’s
leave at first light.” The more Valerian watched the fire’s glow, the more
uneasy he grew, so much so that he insisted they take turns on watch.

While
Kieran slept, Valerian continued to check the progress of the fire. The flames
had died, but the glow remained for most of his watch. Whatever had burned
still smoldered, and he felt an urgency to see what it was.

After
he woke Kieran for his watch, Valerian was able to fall asleep, but he dreamed
of the dragon again, and something new. A man appeared out of the dragon’s
flame. His face was pale, and his folded hands drew attention to the gaping
wound in his chest. When his mind pierced Valerian’s, he knew it was Gabriel.
The Brethren leader held up blood-soaked hands, and a stabbing pain exploded in
Valerian’s head.

He
sat up, gasping. Kieran squatted beside him, his face full of concern.

“Are
ye all right, Sire?”

Valerian
closed his eyes and massaged his temples.

“I
thought it was just another bad dream, since it began with the dragon and the sword,
but then a man came to me. It was Gabriel, the Brethren leader.” He met Kieran’s
gaze. “He had a terrible chest wound and blood on his hands. What does that
mean?”

“Would
it have something to do with those fires, I wonder?” Kieran jerked his head toward
the south.

Valerian
stood. The sky lightened in the east.

“There’s
only one way to find out.”

When
Mercy neared the village, the clopping of horses’ hooves on the bridge made her
stop. She ran back down the path and hid behind a large oak tree. Her heart
pounded so loudly she feared someone would hear it.

Mercy
peered around the trunk. Two riders approached the open gate. They were dressed
as soldiers but wore longer hair than any outsiders she’d seen before. Even so
it was only shoulder-length. They dismounted and left the horses untied while
they conferred with one another. One of them was much taller than the other.

Were
they trustworthy? Could she approach them for help? But how would she ask for
help when she couldn’t use her voice? When they entered the village, Mercy
hurried after them, careful to stay out of sight. She covered her nose and
mouth with her apron so as not to choke on the lingering smoke.

“What
do you think happened here?” asked the tall one, coughing. He stared at the
pile of ashes and burned fragments that had once been Adriel and Faith’s
cottage.

“Difficult
to say, Sire.” The shorter one poked around with the toe of his boot. He bent
down and picked up a small object.

“What
is it?”

“This
looks like a wee bairn’s arm bone.” He paused. “These ashes are still warm.”

Mercy
blinked back tears. That would be Faith’s infant, the one she had safely
delivered, for all the good it had done.

The
two young men didn’t speak again. They split up, searching the village. The
taller one turned toward Mercy, and for a moment she panicked, thinking he had
seen her. Bending down, she moved behind a wood pile and peeked through a gap
in the logs. The stranger’s face did not look hardened and angry like the
soldiers who took away the men that fateful day. His face was thoughtful,
almost gentle.

“Sire,”
his companion shouted. “Come and see.” He ran toward the sound and Mercy
followed.

The
first one had discovered the dead sheep. The carcasses were black with buzzing
flies, but they didn’t disguise the bloated remains.

“I
canna be sure, my lord, but it looks as if a large blade made these gashes. They’re
about the size of the Horde’s ax blades.”

The
taller one didn’t answer. Mercy had seen enough.

She
ran back to the gate. Though she badly needed to trust somebody, she wasn’t
sure she could face another person yet, even these two honest-faced young men.

Oh,
God of peace
,
she prayed.
Please show me the way
.

Mercy
glanced back to make sure they hadn’t seen her, but when she stepped beyond the
gate, two horses blocked her way. One was brown with a black mane and tail, and
the other gray with white spots splashed across its rump. The horses regarded
her, and the gray whinnied as if it were amused. The brown lowered its head,
and Mercy stroked the velvet muzzle as she gazed into the large brown eyes.

“Well,
what have we here?”

Mercy
jumped back from the horse and saw the shorter young man standing there. He
smiled kindly, reaching for the brown’s reins.

“Gilly
didna scare you, I hope? He can be over-friendly at times.”

Mercy
shook her head.

“I
am Kieran MacLachlan. Do ye live here, lass?”

Mercy
nodded, glancing at the gate. How could she explain what happened? She
swallowed hard and tried to speak, but no sound came from her throat.

“Are
ye not able to speak, then?” Kieran’s speech was different than any she’d ever
heard.

She
shook her head and sighed with frustration. Then she shut her eyes, lest the
tears come again.

When
she opened them, the tall young man stood before her. His face was full of
compassion as she stared into his dark eyes. She gasped when he
Saw
her
thoughts, just as Gabriel had done. Without considering the consequences, she
opened her thoughts to him, desperate to show him what had happened. In the
space of a few heartbeats she flooded his mind with images of the massacre and
how she had burned the bodies inside the buildings.

He
staggered against the gray horse, and Kieran hurried to help him before he lost
his balance.

“What
is it, Sire? What happened?” Kieran had to lower him to a sitting position. The
horses backed away so as not to step on him.

He
held his head between his hands when he lifted his gaze to her again.

“How
did you do that? Are you a Seer, too?”

Mercy
saw the pain in his eyes as he continued to
See
her. She covered her
mouth, horrified. She hadn’t meant to hurt him.
I’m sorry
, she said in
her mind as if he could hear her.
I’m not a Seer, only a Healer.

“You’re
a Healer? I’ve never known one, but perhaps that’s the explanation.” He
continued to rub his temples.

“Why
do ye think she’s a Healer, my lord?” Kieran glanced at her, puzzled.

“She
just said she was one.”

“She
said nothing, Sire. The lass is nae able to speak.” Kieran stared at Mercy so
hard that she backed away, frightened now.

“Wait,”
said the taller one, leaning toward her. “Say something to me.” He turned his
Sight on her again.

I
didn’t mean to hurt you. Please, forgive me.

“I
was startled by the intensity of your feelings. And I’m sorry for your terrible
loss.” He turned to Kieran. “You didn’t hear her just now?”

“No,
my lord,” Kieran said. “I only heard you speaking.”

When
the tall young man gazed at Mercy again, she dared a bold question.

Why
does Kieran call you
‘sire’ and ‘my lord’?

He
smiled at her, making him look younger. She was sure neither of them was much
older than Michael.

“I
am Valerian d’Alden, and Kieran is my squire. What may we call you?”

Mercy
glanced at Kieran and then back at Valerian. Whatever these two were, they had
shown kindness to a stranger. Her eyes filled with tears and she could no
longer look into Valerian’s eyes to communicate with him. She covered her face
with her hands and fell to the ground, weeping.

***

Valerian
was profoundly touched by the girl’s sorrow. When she fell to her knees, he saw
her long braid come into view, and he gasped.

“What
is it, Sire?”

“She’s
one of the Brethren,” he whispered. “This was their village. I
Saw
it in
her mind.” He thought about his dream of Gabriel, the burned buildings, the
slaughtered sheep. “How did she survive?” But, of course, she had shown him how
she’d slipped out before the massacre, not realizing what was about to happen.

“I
dinna know, but we can’t leave her here.”

“Of
course not.” The girl wiped her face with a blood-stained apron. She appeared
too young to be a Healer. Certainly too young to have witnessed such horror. Not
only her apron, but her homespun dress was spattered with dried blood.

Kieran
dug inside his saddlebag and produced flint and steel. “Should I set fire to
the carcasses, Sire?”

“Not
yet, but find some wood to pile around them and be ready to light the fire.”

“Aye,
my lord.” Kieran glanced once at the girl and then hurried off to the sheep
pens.

Valerian
sat cross-legged on the ground in front of the Brethren girl. She seemed to
have regained control of her emotions. He thought of Gabriel, and all those
other men and youths whose names he never learned. Were they all dead? Had she
alone survived?

At
last she looked at him. Her eyes were so sad, but at least she didn’t fear him.
In truth, it appeared she had no idea who he was.

“I
don’t think you should stay here alone.” Valerian spoke as gently as he could. “Will
you come with us?”

She
nodded and spoke again to his mind.

I
can’t stay here, but I don’t know where to go
.

“Rest
assured, we’ll find a place for you. Is there anything you’d like to bring?”

Yes.
I must bring my herbs for Healing.

Valerian
stood and helped her stand also. Then he followed her to the only remaining
cottage, staring at the braid that hung from beneath her scarf. He didn’t know
hair could grow so long; it nearly reached the ground.

When
she opened the door, he had to duck to enter. The single room was furnished
with a table, stools, and three pallets on the dirt floor. There was a large
dark stain nearby which the girl avoided. She opened a carry sack and began
packing small clay pots and dried herbs from shelves in the wall. Something
brushed against Valerian’s head, and he saw how many herbs hung from the
ceiling beam to dry.

“Would
you like to bring these also?” When she nodded, he easily reached up to remove
the bundles of plants from their hooks. While he handed them to her to place in
the carry sack, she met his eyes.

I
would have had to stand on one of the stools to reach them. It must be helpful
to be so tall
.

“Most
of the time it’s a blessing to be tall, but only if there are no low doorways
or tree branches.” He rubbed his head meaningfully, hoping to coax a smile from
her.

She
took an apron off a peg in the wall and tenderly folded it, placing it in the
bulging carry sack. Then she picked it up and stood in the middle of the room,
motionless. She turned back to him.

This
has been my home for all my life
.

“Do
you want to tell me about your family?”

She
briefly shut her eyes. When she opened them again, she had to blink away tears.

Not
yet
,
not
my family. But before we leave, may I tell you about the others?

“Of
course.” He opened the door for her and followed her to the nearest burned pile.
At each one, she told him a little of the people who had lived there. He
learned that she had discovered her Healing gift while assisting a woman named
Faith in childbirth, that she had a cousin named Michael who’d been more like a
beloved older brother to her, that a wise woman named Providence had fallen and
not regained consciousness and so was spared the pain of her death. She did not
mention Gabriel, though, and Valerian was reluctant to ask about him. Perhaps
he was related to her. He did seem old enough to have been her father.

Valerian’s
righteous anger was kindled by the Brethren’s tragedy. He wondered how the
Horde had gotten past the garrison. Should they return now and inform Sir
Walter? That might put the girl in harm’s way. Valerian could send a messenger
from the next village and continue on to warn Lord Reed. When they reached the
gate, Kieran waited with the horses.

“Everything
is prepared to start the fire, my lord.”

“Thank
you, Kieran. I think we’re ready to go now.” He glanced at the girl to make
sure.

She
gripped the latch of the gate, and her tears began to flow. Finally, she
nodded.

“Go
on, then, Kieran, and I’ll help her onto my horse.”

“Why
don’t you let me ride double with her? Gilly has carried two before, and the
lass is a mere sprite, so Gilly won’t even notice.”

Valerian
turned to speak to the girl.

“Is
that acceptable to you?”

She
studied Kieran’s horse. Gilly nickered and gently butted her with his head. That
seemed to decide her, and she nodded.

While
Kieran ran back inside the village, Valerian added the carry sack to the back
of his saddle.

“Have
you ridden before?” When she shook her head, he studied Kieran’s saddle. “Since
you are wearing skirts, it might be easier for you to ride sidesaddle behind
Kieran. If this doesn’t work, we’ll try another way.”

How
will I get on the horse?

“I’ll
lift you up, with your permission, of course.”

Kieran
returned and put his flint and steel in the saddle bag.

“I’m
ready, Sire. Did you find out her name?”

Valerian
met the girl’s somber gaze and opened his Sight to her.

My
former life no longer exists. It doesn’t matter what you call me.

Valerian
told Kieran what she said. The squire grinned.

“Well,
then, if it pleases you, I would like to call ye ‘Merry.’ Perhaps a happy name
will help ye smile again.”

Her
gaze became distant, and she turned back to the gate one last time. Greasy
black smoke rose from the burning sheep carcasses. She swallowed, hard, and
tears filled her eyes again. At last, she faced Kieran and nodded once.

“All
right, lass. Merry ye shall be.” He pulled himself up on Gilly and scooted
forward in the saddle.