Chapter 11: Ch 10

The next morning, Wellen uses a spell to speed up the healing. “The Valerids want all members of the five ready to ride to the border, and anything to speed the healing is permissible, to that end,” he says casually, but Leah can tell he’s pleased to have been given the unexpected permission to perform more complicated magic. Leah watches him work, fascinated.

Jeno, who had refused to leave for breakfast until she was certain Leah would be alright, watches it all from a corner, wide-eyed and frightened.

“I assure you, Lady Auzzo, she will not been harmed,” Wellen says with a patient smile, setting out the tools.

He pierces her skin, just at the surface, with splinters of oak, then spins a pattern of sinew around them. Once completed, he lights it on fire; at first Leah feels the heat of the burning, but then it travels down into her side and begins to soothe. When Wellen brushes away the ash, her skin is bright pink and warm but her ribs feel much better.

Jeno had left in shock shortly after the burning had spread across Leah’s side, and does not return now that it is over.

“It must be like having a skittish doe as a charge,” Wellen says, looking to the closed door by which Jeno left. “Though it’s not my place to say such things, of course.”

“Jeno is…Lady Jeno is admirable in many ways. She’s not always skittish, but magic makes her nervous. That’s hardly unusual, in this city.”

“I’m sure she has her charms, but she is an un-inquiring person.”

Leah blushes a tiny bit. “She’s inquisitive, but just about things that don’t frighten her.”

“That may as well be entirely un-inquisitive.”

Wellen packs up his things to go, and Leah hurriedly sits up and calls for him to stay. “Since you’re here…I was wondering if you could tell me more about the Contested Lands, or Jun province, or whatever it’s called.”

Wellen seems surprised. “‘Contested’ is…a complicated word choice. The province was stolen by Devad centuries ago, and Volst has been trying to reclaim it without battle for a long time.”

“Is that why Valerin is fighting Seffon?”

Wellen thinks for a long time before answering. “I suppose it plays a part…Seffon’s legacy is more recent, and certainly only in the past, oh, forty years I’d say, has there been any real antagonism. The battle is much larger than just Valerin and Seffon, though.”

“How so?”

“Well it’s mostly a matter of law, but more honestly, it’s a matter of honour. Ahh, I’d have to explain inheritance law before I could explain it properly, and that’s a complicated piece of legislation…” Wellen snaps out of his scholarly musing. “But not now. You shouldn’t be this agitated if you’re trying to recover from cracked ribs,” he says firmly, patting her arm. “Focus on getting better, and try not think about such heavy matters for now.”

He leaves, and Leah sighs, frustrated. The one time it seemed like I was getting close to a real, useable answer…

Jeno eventually comes back in, looking about the room as though afraid of lingering magic.

“He’s gone,” Leah says, sitting up a bit. “And I think the magic followed him out, so you don’t have to be so careful.”

Jeno takes a spot beside her. “What does Algi thinks of magic use?” she asks. “Had you seen magic before? Up close?”

“Um…I can’t remember ever meeting a magic user in Algi.” Not technically a lie. Leah looks more carefully at Jeno’s expression – not just fear, more of a deep unease. “Why are you so afraid of magic?”

Jeno shifts uncomfortably a bit before answering. “Magic is a tool of war in Cheden, and only a few are trusted to wield it. Some regions promote its use, and have governmental bodies dedicated to researching new uses, theoretical and practical. Ben-Lia is more conservative; we allow it in the military, but even there, we see it as…sort of a dirty trick.”

Leah nods along and takes Jeno’s hand, rubbing the knuckles. “Had you ever seen magic up close before?”

Jeno nods. “Captain Eschen…he was my guard before you came along. He knew magic, and I saw him use it once, back home, as part of a demonstration. It wasn’t scary magic, it was a protection charm but…it was him. He always used to frighten me as a child, with his scars and heavy armour.”

“Do my scars frighten you?” Leah asks, suddenly self-conscious

“No, your scars are from defending people; the captain was an attacker.”

Leah can’t help but feel Jeno’s youth and naivety in this moment. She squeezes her hand, then lets go. “Jeno, things aren’t so black-and-white. Your old guard is probably a great defender of your nation, and the five are attackers; we were hired to attack Seffon.”

Jeno seems to follow, but closes up once again at the mention of Seffon. “I suppose.”

“Do you know something about Seffon?” Leah finally asks outright.

Jeno seems alarmed by the question. “No! We hardly knew about him, back in Ben-Lia, and I only even learnt his name when I arrived here. It’s just that he’s a magic user.”

“And? Wellen uses magic, too – for healing.”

“But from everything I see and hear, it always uses bones and blood and fire…death and destruction. Besides, someone who is willing to kill an animal to further his cause might be willing to kill a human.”

Leah sighs and takes Jeno’s hand back. “You should be a vegetarian.”

“What’s that?

 Leah tries to explain it, and Jeno gets increasingly more and more excited, asking where one might find these “soy beans” that Leah has mentioned. Leah starts to wonder if this was a misstep on her part, but Jeno then gets distracted with telling Leah about the plans for the wedding feast and forgets about soy. Leah eventually sends her away, claiming soreness, when really she just wants a moment’s silence to think about what she’s learned.

No such luck. Around noon, barely a half-hour after sending Jeno away, there is a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Leah says, resigned, then straightens abruptly as she sees Lady Valerid enter. “Oh! My Lady, uh, to what do I owe the honour?”

The Lady smiles, amused, and takes a seat by the desk, pulling a small package out from her pocket. “You have always been a woman of few words, more comfortable in humble settings than in grand halls,” she says. “I assumed you would rather receive this in a private ceremony than in front of an audience.” She opens the package to present a small pin with a loop of ribbon under it.

Leah sits up awkwardly, not sure how to behave. The Lady does not pin it on or make a fuss, merely showing it and how it is to be attached to the fabric; the pin holding the folds in place to make a sort of hexagon, with the ends of the ribbon pointing up. Leah practices the fold, handling the pieces with great care, then sets them on the desk next to the dagger. “Thank you; very much, thank you.”

The Lady smiles. “I want you to know how grateful we are for your dedication to Lady Jeno. An arranged marriage is no easy thing, especially at that age.”

Leah nods sagely. “So young…”

“No, so old.” The Lady had a bit of a curious, uncertain expression at Leah’s comment. “A younger person can resign themselves to it more easily, but once one is an adult…” The Lady shrugs; Leah gets the nagging urge to ask if her marriage to Lord Valerid was arranged, then decides not to push her luck. “But Lady Jeno is a very obedient and understanding girl, and she is adapting well. I suspect having a woman to talk to in private helps in that.”

Leah bites the inside of her cheeks and nods, neutrally. “Oh?”

“Jeno was timid, when she came to us. You’ve been a great help in letting her open up, since her arrival here. I don’t know if it was the fact you were both foreigners to this land, or that you are so close in age, but she has adapted more easily to life here than I had ever hoped.”

“Well then, I am very happy to have been of use,” Leah says, swallowing discomfort.

“But with your injury, you must let us know if the work is too much. Your recovery has been miraculous, I suppose thanks to Wellen – I hope he hasn’t been too much for you?” Lady Valerid asks with a knowing smile. “He can be a little overambitious at times, both in his magic and his cures.”

“No! No, I’ve appreciated him very much,” Leah says, then returns the smile. “Though I do know what you mean. But no, I am certain I will be well in time to resume my duties. I don’t want to leave Jeno for long.”

“I hope you will recover quickly, and I appreciate your dedication; it shows how very seriously you take your post, and how much you have the girl’s welfare in your mind. We appreciate it, truly.”

Leah gives a nod in acknowledgement, then decides to go out on a limb. “I wondered…is Lord Valerid bothered by the frequent use of magic? I know that it is not usually so often and flagrantly used…”

The Lady waves this away. “He has his reasons for disliking magic, but more than he hates magic he loves his nation – and he wants his future daughter-in-law safe. If magic heals you faster, then it is acceptable. Though, I suppose, you shouldn’t make a habit of getting quite so beaten-up all the time.”

Leah laughs in surprise at this very casual joke from a woman she has basically only ever seen in an official context.

“I won’t bother you any longer,” Lady Valerid says, standing smoothly. “I wish you an easy recovery.”

Leah isn’t sure how to return the goodbye, so simply nods deeply and says “Thank you for your concern, my Lady.”

Leah wonders at this, in the following hours. Jeno was nervous, when she got here? Or maybe not nervous, but certainly not at ease. That ‘perfect-future-Lady’ mask I’ve noticed, maybe that’s not such an easy mask for her to wear – or at least, maybe it took her a while to figure it out.

But how could the woman whose journal entries read like a Dick and Jane book have been the one to teach her that sort of masking?

By evening, Leah is feeling well enough to go to supper, but as she is dressing – slowly and painfully, cursing the laces – Kimry comes to the door with a tray of food, accompanied by Wellen.

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“It’s a bit early for you to be up and about,” he says, the words almost sounding like a scolding but with a teasing overtone to them.

Leah shrugs ruefully and sits back down. “I was maybe a little over-confident…”

“Hmph, as every patient is, towards the end,” Wellen says, taking out the familiar assortment of spell supplies. He notices Leah’s eyes and nods. “Another round, for good measure. A half-day between each round should be the perfect amount, and I don’t want you slipping back into pain unnecessarily. Also, I have never before been given so much liberty to practice magic by the Valerids; this is a rare treat for me.” He hesitates, midway through piercing through Leah’s skin with a splinter. “Not to be belittling your injury, Miss.”

“I understand what you meant; no belittling taken.”

Wellen chuckles a bit and continues with the spell set-up. Kimry sets aside the tray of food and comes over to help hold the fabric of the shirt out of the way.

Leah is uncomfortable being so close to Kimry while someone else is present, but Kimry at least is not frightened by the magic; rather she seems curious. She stays on the pretence of making sure Leah eats properly, and watches from the sidelines.

“I’ll take care of that, there’s no need to hold you up,” Wellen says with a dismissive wave, but Kimry remains in place, watching. This seems to annoy Wellen, but he does not waste time on it. “Well at least you’re more strong-stomached than the Auzzo girl,” he mutters, finishing the set-up and striking a flint to set the sinew on fire.

Leah winces through the initial heat, then relaxes as it begins to soothe. “You know,” she says, with a little bit of colour, “Your spell really frightened Jeno. Apparently she associates all magic with death and violence.”

Wellen chuckles. “It is violent only as much as agriculture or cooking is violent to nature.”

Leah does not mention vegetarianism this time. “She seems very frightened of magic in general – by its nature, not its use. Is all magic like the stuff you do?”

“How do you mean?” Wellen asks, brushing away the ashes of the spell.

“Well…” Leah gestures vaguely, tugging her shit back down. She turns to Kimry. “How about in Nent? What’s magic like there?”

Kimry answers readily. “The religious leaders are rigorously trained, and use it for many things. How they use it is a closely guarded secret.”

“But is it always with burning things and mixing dead animals with stuff?” Leah presses, and Kimry shrugs.

Wellen seems perturbed. “What are you asking?”

“Is magic always tied to death, or are there other ways to get magic?”

Both fall strangely still as Leah asks this. Kimry seems more cautiously pensive, while Wellen seems frightened.

“None that I know of,” he says firmly, “And I can’t think why you’d ask.”

Leah sighs in frustration. “If death fuels magic, then could war produce stronger magic? Is Seffon’s magic going to get more powerful if war breaks out?”

Kimry stands closer beside her, as though the smaller woman plans to defend Leah against whatever might happen next. Leah tries to read Wellen’s face, but he is turned away, putting away his tools.

Finally, he laughs. “I forget, sometimes, how fully your memory disappeared. Oh, it is so strange, talking to someone adult-to-adult and hearing questions better suited to toddlers.”

“From the mouths of babes,” Leah whispers bitterly, and Wellen does not hear. He leaves with another chuckle and a wish for speedy recovery. When the door closes, Kimry looks down at her in concern.

“You have to be careful who you talk to like that,” Kimry says censoriously. “Not only is it insubordinate, it’s suspicious.”

Leah reaches out to take her hand reassuringly. “You don’t have to tell me. Don’t worry; Wellen and I have an understanding. He has helped me remember more about this world than anyone else.” Kimry looks momentarily hurt, gentle brown eyes staring at her hands, and Leah is moved to stand and kiss her. “And you have helped me remember more about myself than anyone else ever could.”

Kimry smiles and gives her a series of quick kisses, then leans her forehead against Leah’s. “I’m just glad you’re coming back to us,” she says, very softly.

Leah holds her face gently, fingers in her hair, thumb running over Kimry’s chapped but full lips. “Nothing could keep me away.”

They kiss, both lingering and hesitating to pull away, before Kimry finally breaks it off and hands Leah the tray of food.

“I won’t have him coming back and saying I didn’t take good care of you,” she says, hands on her hips, and Leah grins and starts eating.

*

Kimry leaves when Leah is finished with the tray. Moments later, Jeno arrives, accompanied by Kain. Kain is explaining to her some of the magic she has witnessed from the Nations of Bair, and Jeno is listening with a mix of fear and wonder. The stories seem to be a mix of theatricality and selfless heroism. Who’d have guessed that quiet little Kain is the best storyteller in the group? I ought to be asking her for memory-refreshers.

Kain turns to Leah with a grin. “Lady Jeno wanted to pass by your rooms before her own, to check up on her ‘brave knight.’” Kain says this with some humour, and Leah shrugs it off.

“If she insists on calling me that…the title suits me, I think.”

“Well don’t get too cocky,” Kain says, then covers her mouth in shock; Jeno has already reached the bed, and does not seem to pay attention to their conversation – Not that I expect that sort of language would shock her, Leah thinks.

“Will you be better by tomorrow?” Jeno asks, sitting formally at the foot of Leah’s bed.

“I couldn’t say – I imagine so, but I make no promises.”

Jeno nods slightly and stands, passing through to her own rooms. Kain wishes Leah a good night and leaves, before Leah can ask whether there will be a debriefing tonight. I guess I’m exempt from those, while I recover. How lucky. Iris is probably roiling with jealousy.

Once Kain is gone, Jeno returns. She does not know that another round of magic has been performed, and seems to have put the first round from that morning out of her mind.

She lies on the bed, talking about what Leah will have to do for the wedding; Leah feels oddly sad to hear about the plans going ahead, yet is interested in the strange customs and what they are revealing.

“What will I be allowed to wear?” Leah asks, and Jeno seems surprised.

“Your classic uniform, of course. People must recognise you. And of course you will have your medal,” she adds, reaching out to pick up the ribbon from the desk.

“But I won’t have to wear a dress? I have to for the suppers every night, surely for a wedding…”

“Of course not, why should you? For the suppers you aren’t supposed to look too military so people don’t get reminded of the threat of Seffon, but for the wedding you will be defending against assassins, like those you took on single-handed.” Jeno thumbs the fabric of the ribbon one last time before setting it down.

Leah notes that Jeno seems unbothered by this instance of death, and decides to address it. “Why doesn’t it bother you to think about death when it’s Seffon’s men dying?”

Jeno falls silent, and introspects for a moment. “They were threatening you. And Valerin. There was a reason for their deaths. War is senseless. Death used for magic is senseless.”

Leah tries to recite the “circle of life” segment from the Lion King, but Jeno does not listen.

“I would prefer it all to just be over, so I never have to think about it,” Jeno says, sounding a little tired. “Frankly, when I first met you I didn’t like you, because of your profession.”

“I was too manly?” Leah hazards, and Jeno laughs.

“Hardly! Perfectly balanced in your body, strong and silent and wonderful, but you made your living through death. I’ve lost too many friends to inter-duchy fighting and duels and plots…I didn’t want to be surrounded by that all the time. But you were different. You didn’t want to kill.”

Leah begins to listen more closely.

“Your whole style of fighting was one based on disabling, not destroying. Vivitha is ruthless and precise; Iris is bloodthirsty and wild; and your leader has that scar on her face…she reminds me of captain Eschen, and how he seems proud of how he deals in death. Even Kain, though she is kind, is also reserved and reactive. She only pretends to be friendly, I think, but really she doesn’t trust anyone.”

Leah feels uncomfortable at how close Jeno’s assessment is to how she herself has begun to view her teammates. “I trust her,” she says, desperately trying to salvage the mood, but Jeno seems distracted by something.

“I heard your fellow warriors talking over supper,” Jeno says. “Meredith in particular seemed to think that the Valerids were being too secretive, and their guards. She was bitter about something having to do with the information retrieved off the invasion parties.”

“Oh?” Leah prompts, but Jeno cannot elaborate.

Conversation fizzles down, and Leah sends Jeno to her rooms. She decides she must talk to Meredith about this tomorrow. Perhaps I had better turn in the scroll I found.

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