Fan Fiction ❯ Healer #1 Healer in the Dark ❯ A new home for the moment ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter #2 A New Home For The Moment

Seated on the lap of the dark Captain she was still numb enough to not fear the heights. "Millicene? That is your name correct?" He inquired? "Yes Captain it is. What is your worry?" She replied. To her well-trained ear, used to detect the slightest hint of pain or of discomfort his concern rang loudly. No ordinary person would have detected it. This she also saw in the slight curve of his mouth, which was all that showed of him under the shadowy hood.

"I am wondering how certain you are that you can heal one of my kind. There are subtle differences between us and those who are completely mortal." He informed her as if he knew everything that she did not. Perhaps he very well did know all the things that were beyond her experience, but she was as yet too young to admit such a fault on her part. It irritated her that he was so very sage-like about it as well.

"I am among the three percent of my class mates who actually chose to take the class in restoration of the Undead. I tell you good Captain that it was one of the most difficult studies of my life. Never will I forget what I learned in that horrible class. And even should the knowledge grow blurry, I still have all the books from which the lessons were drawn." Millicene paused to draw in a deep breath.

Then she continued, "It will be a hard and difficult thing for me to do as I will need to feed you my own life to restore the life essence that is leaking out of these many wounds. Yet I have no doubt in my ability to see the task through to its end." She scowled at him, expecting even less of a reaction then she had gotten from the Orc Captain. Now that they were functioning again, her instincts served her well, for the Dark Captain barely even smiled.

The Orc headquarters was a mass of low squatty looking buildings of dark and dingy colors. Despite the appearance from the air, her transitory home was neat to the point of being almost antiseptically clean. Unit divided the headquarters buildings. She gestured to the sigil of the unit that had been escorting her. The dark Captain changed course slightly and set them down without even a jolt in front of one of the charcoal colored buildings.

The unit, once she and the carcasses no longer burdened them, had made good time. They had already arrived and cleaned out a room in the headquarters building for her use. She began unpacking, placing jars and books on shelves. Once that was done she selected the text for healing of the Undead. It was a massive tome, weighing nearly thirty pounds. Had it not been for the charms on her bag she would have had to leave the ugly thing behind. "Please be so good Captain as to remove the armor over all the wounds." She said to the Dark Rider.

His compliance was slower then it should have been, but that was all the evidence that showed how badly the wounds had affected him. She approached, looked down at the page of wound poisons, and then took a deep sniff over a very deep cut on his forearm. The scent of rotting blossoms was strong in the wounds. It was a very unusual scent for a wound poison. The book said that only on poison made such a scent when in contact with Undead flesh. It was magically enhanced Degario weed extract.

Degario was the only weed that produced a poisonous extract strong enough to bring harm to such a high level Undead as the Captain. Only the Undead dragons were of greater difficulty to destroy. Luckily, despite its rarity, a spoken charm existed to extract the poison form the Captain's flesh. It would be made more difficult for her because of the magic, but not impossible. She set up a large steel bowl to hold the poison once it was removed. Then Millicene closed her eyes, as she began to reach for the nearest wellspring of healing energies.

It surprised her a great deal, to find a wellspring set up underneath the Palace of the high King. The life memories of those who gave their powers to create the spring tried to overwhelm her and drag her under. She fought them off easily as they were very ancient energies. Then pulling a small amount of the vast pool of power to herself, she began to chant. At its end she called out, " Poison I call you forth!"

Out of each and every one of the dozens of cuts gashes and slices in the Captain's skin oozed a thick glowing green fluid. It pooled over her hands and flowed into the bowl, almost overflowing the rim. The Captain grunted in pain once it was over. The numbing effects of the poison had worn off, causing his flesh to throb, thus reminding him how the wounds truly hurt. She laid a hand on his exposed shoulder, where a bright white line in the otherwise bone colored skin was all that remained of a fast healing wound. The aches faded as she gave him energy straight from the wellspring.

The purity of the energy made him dizzy. He wondered only for a moment if the healer knew what she was doing with him. Then the proof of her skill came as his strength began to return and the marks on his skin to disappear. She walked around him several times, looking him up and down. Then she smiled radiantly at him; "You have to be my favorite patient yet Captain! Your healing ability is incredible! There isn't so much as a single scar left on you, and some of those wounds were so deep that any other being would have been marked for life!"

This made him smile at the tiny healer. She came up barely to the level of his Undead heart, and yet she was so very brave. She took whatever liberties with his person that it took to see him restored to health. Not only was his dignity under threat, but she had been forced to cause him discomfort as well. Had he known what pain would have coursed through him, he would have insisted that she have one of his men hold him down. She had little inkling of the danger she had narrowly avoided.

Now he could see why the King had insisted upon such provisions for her safety. She would not concern herself with danger from her patients, only with danger to them. It made her a good healer but she would have been a very poor soldier. He allowed her to check him carefully once more before he began putting on his armor and preparing to settle into his guard position. Neither he nor the healer would get any rest that night. Of that he was certain. The greater numbers of his highnesses Special Forces were returning from the annual cleaning out of the beast and monster lairs in the fell bogs.

Millicene looked up at her first non-acquainted patient as he was carried in. The Orc was an extremely large specimen for his race. However the smallest of things had brought him to this sickly state. A very venomous serpent out in the fell bog had bitten him. His calf was swollen around the bite, and he had slipped into fevered delirium during the return trip. His Captain was also a large Orc, who reminded her of the one that she knew. His horns were the only difference, as they spiraled like a Ram's rather then like an Ibex's. She had him help the Dark Captain restrain his man as she chanted again to draw out poison. As Orcs were living creatures not Undead the chant changed, and drew even more power from the wellspring.

Millicene praised the great father that no more cases of poisonings came in that night. She was busy as it was with setting bones, stitching huge gashes from beastly claws, treating illnesses from bad water, and even delivering a pair of babies. The last ones, it seemed, had waited for their father's return to be born. The serpent poisoned Orc's wife delivered him a healthy son, and beautiful daughter. Seeking out the Captain, she informed him that it was now his responsibility to judge whether or not she should be awakened. She was going to snatch what few hours remained before dawn for her rest.

She barely had time to speak the healer's prayer to the great all father, before she slipped into oblivion.

The next morning brought Millicene awake at dawn as she was trained. No matter how tired out a healer was; there was always more work to do. Knowing this she rose from the sturdy military cot in the corner of her temporary lab, and prepared to start her day. A knock came at the door. Standing there was a younger version of the snake bitten Orc that she had healed during the wee hours of the morning. He had a basket in his hands that contained all manner of foodstuffs. *"My mother said to bring this" he told her in Orcish. The Dark Rider translated softly in her ear. Millicene replied in common, "Tell your mother I said thank you very much. Without her generosity I would be having military rations for breakfast!" He nodded, obviously understanding more common tongue then he spoke, and departed the same way he had entered.

She opened the basket and the cause of the wonderful smell revealed itself. It was a dozen fresh-baked rolls, still warm from the oven. Underneath was a pot that contained thick morning porridge with fruit and nuts mixed throughout it! She offered some of the rolls and porridge to the Dark Captain, but he declined. Teasingly he said, "You would think that such a wise healer would know that we need eat only rarely, and then only raw meat or blood or blood mixed in milk!" He was the recipient of another of her deadly scowls for his trouble, which made him smirk under the all-concealing hood of his cloak.

The first of her many civilian patients appeared as soon as she had finished a bowl of porridge and a roll. It was a young looking dark elf that strolled into her laboratory. He looked young, but she took one look into his eyes and knew that he had to be at least seven centuries old. He strolled in with ease, and at her nod that she would need no help, the Dark rider Captain, closed the door. It was then that he slumped to the floor, and she saw the gaping wounds in his side and the one with the knife still embedded in it in his thigh. She drew on her own healer's powers to give her strength and lifted him onto her improvised operating table. "These clothes have to go friend, so sorry." She spoke to him. Violet eyes opened and in a sweet tenor voice he whispered, "They are ruined in any case healer. You may have them for rags, for now that is all they are good for." She shredded his shirt and pants without further comment.

His silk undergarments had been spared the gushing blood. She let him keep them to save them both from any of her embarrassment that might leak through her healer's discipline. He was stoic through the administration of wound cleansing mixtures, and the stitching up of his side. Those wounds had been shallow. The knife having glanced off his ribs and back out again, leaving a smooth cut. The one in his thigh however, had gone all the way through and out the other side. She used small tickles of healer's magic to restore the damaged nerves, and having done so, sealed the tear where his muscle had been separated from the bone. Then she stitched the inside of the wound closed, and the skin.

Even through such raging agony he only once let out a soft keen of pain. Millicene soothed the pain in him as best she could, then winding his cloak about him to conceal his near naked form she carried him out of her lab. Across the small hallway was a room where the Orcs had at her insistence set up a ward to house those that bore further observation. She carefully slid the dark elf into bed, her healer's borrowed strength fading as she covered him. His boots were yet in her lab. With a whispered promise to return shortly she went to retrieve them.

Setting the boots beside his cot, she marveled at how the blood was flaking off and leaving no stains behind as it dried. Upon his upper arm, which was at the moment flung above his head to shield his eyes, was the mark of the sun temple? No wonder he had been stabbed! For a Dark elf to seek to worship the sun father was a great deviation from the ways of his race. An alteration of creed such as that would anger many of his peers. She turned on her heel and sprinted to the doorway. "Captain! Assemble a team to guard my newest patient! I must go and retrieve some of his brethren to sit watch with him more permanently." She ordered. He bowed with a gentleman's gesture that meant he was at her service. She snatched up her cloak and sprinted out the door.

She could see the spires of the Sun temple from the steps of headquarters. Heading in the general direction until she came across a familiar Orc, she finally had to ask directions. "Sun temple? Oh Golden Temple! Yes, yes I know the way!" The Lieutenant took her hand and led her rapidly through the many streets and alleyways that stood between them and their goal. He stopped at the entranceway and said. "I will wait and lead you back." She nodded absently as she stared up at the temple. Then recalling that she was here on business, not to honor the great consort of her own lady, she entered and padded softly across the thick carpets to a friendly looking priest.

"Kind one, I have come to seek help for one of your own children." She addressed him formally. "Speak daughter of the favored lady. Who has fallen that they need our help?" He replied with equal formality. "I know not his name, for he came to me gravely wounded, but surely a dark elf in among your following can not be so common even here?" She replied. His eyes lit with recognition. "Ah Pavornai. I told the lad to not be about the city at night. Most likely his kin sent an assassin. I will come with you myself and bring those who are needed." The priest replied. He then surprised her by putting two fingers in his mouth and whistling loudly! Obviously this was something he did often for the results were rapid. From several archways appeared warrior monks in full battle dress. Each held a heavy war staff shod with brass on each end and engraved along the length with sun symbols and blessing marks.

"Come then fellows. We must be off to watch friend Pavornai as he heals. His kin have tried once more for his life." He informed them. Each of them bowed to the priest before assembling into a marching formation. The Priest gestured that she should lead the way and they would follow. Millicene turned and quickly departed back the way she came. Behind her came the sound of marching military men, muffled somewhat by the soft boots they wore, just like Pavornai's own golden footwear, but still the distinctive stride of a well trained warrior group.

She returned to the barracks to find them in chaos. Ten people stood around in various states of un-wellness waiting for her to tend them. "Methinks you need apprentices' madam healer." The priest said softly. Millicene could tell he was laughing at her, yet she let it pass and dived into her work. The changing of the guard over her patient went well without her attention. She was still young enough to seek to oversee everything she could, yet she was old enough to understand that the whole world would not fall apart should she turn her back on it for a minute. When she finally sent the last broken legged Orc child home with a cast and crutches to help him get around until he healed, she paused briefly to look in on her stay over patient.

At each corned of the bed stood a warrior monk, which was to be expected. What surprised her most was the priest! The self-same middle aged, peaceful, kindly and knowledgeable looking man was sitting in the chair beside the bed with a cudgel in his lap! Millicene smirked softly and advanced to see to her patient. He was resting, but uncomfortable yet. He would be in a great deal of pain for the next week until the healing factor of his elvish flesh finished with him. The races of elves healed ten times faster then any human or Orc would in their place. For this Millicene was glad. Her most troubled patient would be back inside temple walls before too much more trouble could befall.

The Undead Captain was at her side when she entered the lab area. One of the shimmery glass bottles was nearly empty and many others were down to half. She needed to go to market and acquire some herbs to brew new potions. "Come with me Captain, and let us find the marketplace." She uncovered the basket that had held her breakfast, now empty save for a small pouch in the bottom. That pouch was her monthly stipend. It covered supply costs and food and other necessities for the healer to whom it was issued. No matter where the healer went upon selecting an assignment from the board at the collegiate, the community they dwelt in must always support them. Her purse was extra heavy this month and would be for the first year, by will of the King. She might even be able to afford the cost of an apprentice's upkeep, if she was careful.

She went to the great horse that stood stilly awaiting his master's commands. The Captain boosted her up into the saddle and mounted behind her. Then with one strong arm holding her securely around the waist, her protector guided them along the streets and alleyways towards the market square. It was loud and boisterous, as any market would be in the non-aligned or light bearing states. Her ears eventually numbed to the cacophony, and her eyes sorted through the surprisingly bright colors of the people milling about to find the sectors of the square that held what she sought.

"I had not thought that everyone would be as brightly attired as this." Millicene informed her guardian. He nodded in agreement. "This is how the Orcs are for the most part. If it were not for the fact that such colors make you stand out on the battlefield they would wear them even to war. As it is they have adopted the sensible dark and drab colors for their military units that the other dark races wear into battle. We slip in as shadows and leave behind us rivers of our enemy's blood." He spoke the last with some reverence, as if killing were a higher calling then any other in his eyes. Millicene let it pass. Her teacher had warned her that the opinion would be so in the dark lands. She had expected to be thought less of then she already was, and had been pleasantly surprised by the good treatment she was receiving.

Much had changed since the last time he had come to the market place. If anything it was even brighter and louder then before. Twice as many of the merchant carts and stalls crammed into the available space, and all their proprietors tried to shout down one another in the hawking of their wares. He was glad that he saw the threat in time. If he had been one iota more distracted the young healer would be dead in a pool of her own blood on the street.

A Dark Elf assassin appeared out of nowhere and aimed carefully for the healer's heart with a compact crossbow. He stepped up right behind her. With one hand he caught the deadly missile an inch from where it would have impacted her chest and pierced her heart. Her gasp of surprise was soft, but expected. Her second reaction was not. As the failed assassin turned to flee he stumbled and was dragged completely upside down by the bright bluish green bands of un-harnessed healing energies. He suddenly realized why his charge was always so fearless around her wounded fiendish patients. Not even his strength could break those bonds if she chose to bind him, of that he was sure.

Millicene was not amused. This was the first of what would likely be a large number of attempts on her life. If she did not set a harsh example with this killer so many more would follow that her protector would soon be overwhelmed and she would die! "Tell me Captain, is it needful for this one to have a trial or can you just kill him outright?" She asked her defender. He seemed shocked by her cold blooded question, then he smirked under the all-concealing hood. "He can die now if you wish it healer. You are under the protection of the high King himself. I am an administrator of the King's justice, and as such can legally disembowel this fiend in the street for what he has done." He calmly replied.

"Hmm disembowelment, not a pretty death to be sure, and for once I would most certainly not be inclined to aid the victim." Her would be assassin was braver then your average stealthy killer. The mere mentioning of his upcoming demise did not even seem to affect him. No pleading for mercy or even insistence on a trial were forthcoming from her captive.

"So Milady?" the Captain inquired, his face as always impassive. "He dies, now, as an example to all the ones waiting in line to try and finish the job. No Mercy Captain." Came the voice of the King. All the noise of the chaotic marketplace, which had not even noticed when one of its customers was nearly killed, stopped cold. All the people turned at that well known voice and fell on their faces in prostrated worship of their absolute monarch. "It must be fun to get that reaction when you go to the marketplace Your Majesty." Millicene said mockingly as she curtsied to the High King.

"It is sometimes amusing." He agreed. Then the deadly sorcerer turned to his age old friend and `administrator of the King's justice', and said, "I gave you an order Captain! Carry it out immediately!" Millicene held up her free hand, "Just cut him Captain. As the offended party by ancient custom it is my right to finish him off." Then she jerked the cords of energy held in her left hand so that her captive was brought to stand before the monarch and the Captain.

"Do as she requests Captain, she is right about the age old custom." The King ordered. The Captain's Sword of office was out in a blink. It sliced through the thin mail of the assassin like it didn't even exist and opened a deep gash from his groin to his collar bones. This was the only opening the energies around the assassin needed. They flowed into the wound and filled the dark Elf completely, until his skin glowed as if he had swallowed a star. The strain was too much for his flesh, which began to crack open and leak the light of healer's energies like a lantern with to many holes. Then with a resounding boom that could be heard all over the city, the former assassin exploded!

The King and her protector were both staring at her. She smiled softly and began to explain what seemed to be an out of character act for such a gentle healer as herself. "I was taught at Healer's to be gentle, kind, and helpful. It was my nature to be that way in any event. However they could not undo the upbringing of a minor noble, given me by my now half way extinct clan. We were all taught as children that assassins must be slain brutally to cut down on the likelihood that they will be sent against you again. Had I let the good Captain do this for me, it might have worked as it should, but doing so my own self will be far more effective in the long run. Now they are not only afraid of my guardians but of that which they guard as well!"

She came up and took the arm of the Captain. "Would you care to join us Majesty?" Millicene offered gently. "I would gladly teach you a few things about herbal healing potions as we go along." The King smiled at her offer. "I was a healer for many centuries my dear Lady Millicene. I have no need for such instruction. I thank you but must decline the offer." Then with a wink and slight bow in her direction he disappeared.

"Let us proceed with this potion ingredient gathering trip Millicene. I have no wish to discover if some of the assassins in the city have yet to perceive your threat to their well being." The Captain insisted. Millicene leaned carefully upon his arm as they continued towards the herb merchant's stall. She did not wish it to become common knowledge that the assassin's death was not something she could repeat on command.

In truth it had drained her very badly to use healing powers in such a way. *"You are exhausted from that aren't you?" The Captain inquired in his own language. She gave a barely noticeable nod in reply However he was not the only one who observed what she tried to hide that day. The true enemy behind the assassin's attempt on her life saw it as well.

She sighed and meandered along on her former task, her strength was slowly returning, but it was not all together at it's peak yet. That was not her greatest worry though, it was that her mind was spinning with the life memories of the Elf she had slain. Human assassins are bad enough. To have twenty or more years of killing and blood overlaying the thoughts and heart of what was customarily a gentle being by nature causes great pain. The thirty plus centuries made her queasy, her eyes pinched to narrow slits against the light which would normally not have bothered her in the least.

Finally it became so bad she actually didn't haggle with the merchants of herbs anymore. She found though that with the Dark Rider standing right behind her she was not under any real threat of being picked clean. With his inscrutable mask on worse then the scowl of any other man of any type or beast of any sort it insured that she did not get cheated by any but the very bravest of merchants. Even then it wasn't so very much as it would have been had just an Orc stood behind her.

She finally found the rare Greshen'nobon blossoms, potted and ready to grow in a window box of some Orc chef or other. Few knew the gifts for healing this flavorful herb held but she was among that few. She bought all the pots and with cord tied them over the rump of the Dark Rider's mount. "That will be all we need in the market for today Captain. Let's get back and ready to move into my new domicile. I won't be able to plant these poor dears until then and they look root bound." The Captain nodded and taking her in one arm jumped into he saddle. It took until they were halfway back to the barracks for her to puzzle out why he had done it in just that way. He had needed a hand free to guard against missile attacks towards her and he would not have been able to get in the way in time if he had placed her on the horse first.

She got off and looked up at the sky. Except for right around the castle, where the lightning constantly flickered through the dark clouds, the sky was clear and looked almost dusty from lack of rain. The sun made her skin feel tight and far to hot under her mild weather garments. She knew that unless rain came soon it would not come at all until autumn was once again upon the land. Weather working was not a common magical talent, but she hoped the High King possessed it. Otherwise starvation would all to soon become a common complaint of both beasts and thinking beings.

Over the next few days a problem that had not immediately come to mind surfaced. Heat exhaustion was becoming common for the darker skinned Orcs, and even her old patient Pavornai had come in complaining of headaches and "An unnatural urge to heave up the meager contents of my stomach." As he indelicately put it.

Her new home was in an area where the breezes would actually blow through if they existed at all, but not so much as a blade of grass moved today. It wasn't likely that they would see any relief for quite some time. She had sent a common handwritten message to the King, requesting that he find a weather worker before every Orc in the city was incapacitated.

His reply had been personally delivered, for which she had been unprepared. "Even more pressing matters regarding this drought are presently demanding my time, but your suggestion is a god's blessed wise one. If we can even get a cooling breeze this drought's effects would be much lessened. However it is more important that we dig wells now, and to do that we need dowsers."

Millicene knew that the last old man capable of the talent that was native to the land was here collapsed from the heat. Hence the personal visit from the King. "And here I just thought at first that you were mildly fond of my company!" She mocked under her breath then she went into her ward to see if the ancient grandther Orc was awake. He was awake and when he saw his King he tried to leap up and genuflect which was restrained by a simple hand gesture from the King.

The King had said he was a healer, so he knew that if the grandther was to live till winter's first snow he needed to stay flat on his back until the weather cooled. "Easy aged one. I merely have come to ask where you put your rods. Most any with magical gifts can dowse even untrained, and I would like to find a well before all the crops burn up in this wretched heat."

The ancient Orc, most likely close to five centuries old, remembered first seeing his King back as a boy, and his trust of the absolute ruler of the land was deep. "Here then yer majesty. Take good care of em and see to it that they don't get broke. They are older then you unless I miss my guess!" he said and he slid the metal rods out from the inside of his linen tunic. "Hmm? How odd. They are indeed from the time before my birth." The High King Commented absently. "Go with em lass. Ya will actually remember to keep em whole. King's got bigger concerns and might forget." The granther ordered her as if she were his own offspring. She nodded and went out of the ward with the King.

"Give me those and lets give them a try in the south district. I actually was rather good at dowsing as a small girl and might be able to get better results then someone completely untrained." The King gave them up without complaint. "With as little magical talent as actually resides in the city, had you not offered, it would be my boots stirring up dust in the south district." He said. "Oh perish the thought that his highness should find himself doing hard physical labor!" She teased then she stalked out the door leaving a laughing High King in her wake.

Millicene reached the south district which was basically buildingless except for the corrals for the annual livestock fair. Pulling out the rods she reached for the childhood memory of the cool well water that had refreshed the parched throats of the workers in the fields and those repairing broken masonry after yet another bandit attack. The memory of that cool water was her focus and she sought it's like with the magical rods, commanding them to be drawn to the object of her day dream of long ago. Something pulled at the rods, dragging her at a fast clip over the cobbled square and out into a horse pasture once green and lush. It was now nothing but dry flammable grass. In the middle the rods touched earth and she could see clearly on the backs of her eyelids how deep the water hid itself.

"It's a hundred feet below the ground majesty, and most of the soil is hard clay or clay packed with granite pebbles. Once ya get to it though it's a huge underground lake that should give the farmers and city dwellers water until late winter if not longer." She informed him. He made a gesture and an Orc from his entourage ran off to call the diggers. Millicene stayed there where she was, asking the King to get her a tent. She would have to treat many an exhausted and injured Orc before the well was dug. He nodded in understanding and another minion, this one looking more draconic then anything else ran off to oblige her wishes.

She sat down on a camp stool provided by one of the King's minions. Carefully she wound one of her kerchiefs around the excellent dowsing rods before sliding them in between her breast bindings and her skin under her tunic as their current owner would have done. Then she sat for a while to rest the trance of dowsing was not as draining as say drawing out poison from a wound but it did take it's toll and the heat, dry and burning on her fair skin, made it ten times the worse. Suddenly a brief breeze cooled her skin. The King had sat down directly behind her and commanded his fan wielders to begin again their task. Soon she was as cool as she had been in a month or more and in a much better temper for it.

The Orc Captain who had first guarded her journey to the capitol had been keeping watch over her while the Dark Riders were away on mission. Origlan whispered silent thanks to the gods that the King had been so thoughtful. She had been rather short and abrupt to all around her save for her patients since the heat became so oppressive. He was also grateful that the Dark Rider would soon return. He had been privileged to be taught his duties by that one, and the little healer woman never seemed to do anything that was against His wishes. When he had left, making her Origlan's responsibility, the healer had become obstinate and unruly quite quickly.

The well was dug with surprisingly few injuries for which Millicene was quite glad. She had felt so sapped of all ordinary urges and her usual strength since the heat had come over the land. The King had noticed how wane she looked and asked after her health. As a healer she had accustomed herself to no one rightly caring if she was alright. This kindness one in a string of so many kindnesses he had sent her way further impressed her as to his nature as a good and thoughtful ruler. "Nay Sire I am not well, but there are others far the worse. So I may not yet rest till I am cured of my heat weary body aching sickness just yet."

The King had refused this answer outright. He had insisted she sit on her stool and not leave it until she had consumed a piece of a strange red fruit and a hunk of cool yellow cheese, along with a whole skin of magically chilled water. She was grateful for having been forced to care for her own well being for a change. Any who knew Millicene in her not so long ago days of healing collegiate would agree to what the King had concluded. The woman tended to forget about herself entirely if someone else was even in the slightest discomfort that she could sooth. He watched her as she drained the last of the water and then letting the skin settle beside her she looked up at the Northeastern sky.

His old friend and most trusted vassal, Captain Velkenos would soon be returning from that direction. From the longing barely concealed in the healer's eyes it could not be too soon. The King smirked in amusement at someone having a crush on the Undead leader. That was well outside the range of her curse should she decide to `deepen her friendship' with the noble but distant Captain. "Svaro Velkenos you better pray to your much touted ancestor VelyaVel for your Undead soul should she decide to try. I have a feeling that even one of Undead heart could not resist her for long."