Kara took the cup out of Ghost’s hands. “Don’t worry. She’s so small and undernourished I expected the herbs to affect her quicker than most. I want to give her a little while to make sure she’s completely under before I sew her up.”

  The combination of seeing Kara and hearing the bells clicked in Terrowyn’s mind. She’d promised to bring Kara to the stables to meet Master Erlong and his son, Heben. “I almost forgot.” Terro glanced around to make sure they were alone. “I stopped in at th’ cooper’s shop last night. The owner, Master Erlong, is as old as dirt, and his son’s set to take over buildin’ th’ barrels. Well, th’ clumsy nob stepped off th’ loft four days past and buggered his arm. They don’t have coin for a healer and….”

  Kara hissed, “Terro, you didn’t.” She angrily looked around the infirmary and then grabbed Terrowyn’s arm and pulled her out into the hall. “I can’t treat a nob inside the Temple and I can’t treat them outside except on the days we set up in the codpiece.”

  Sighing, Terrowyn ran a hand through her hair, “Look, ya ken as well as I do that if th’ lad has to wait ‘til ya set up yer clinic, th’ bone’ll start to heal, and th’ nob’ll be crippled for life. Who’s gonna help th’ old man, then, eh? And we’ll have another crippled beggar turned thief on our hands. Please, Kara. At least take a look at him. They’re delivering some barrels to th’ stables right about now.”

  Kara glanced back into the infirmary. “She’ll be out for quite a while. I can at least take a look at the arm, but….” She shook her head and stopped a junior healer just entering the room. “Jili, would you watch that skelli for a bit? I just gave her some caneleid powder, and she won’t wake up before I get back. I’ll be down at the stables if you need me.”

  When the woman nodded, Kara indicated Terrowyn should go first. “If I get into trouble over this, don’t come to me the next time you get a belly ache from eating at that disgusting tavern on the edge of the Codpiece.”

  Breaking the rules wasn’t something the Senior Guardian ever worried about. She was the one who punished rule breakers, not the other way around. The thought of being caught squeezed her tripes into sour clumps of acidic goo, and she privately thought she might need Kara’s cure for a belly ache sooner rather than later.

  Unfortunately for Terro, right at that moment, Sábria was standing at her window trying to come up with a creative solution for handling a former Blade and a former shiv currently serving time in her detention facility. As she stared down at the center of the Temple courtyard, where a statue of Elyon embracing a warrior rose majestically above all Her people, she noticed Terrowyn and Kara leave the infirmary, cross the courtyard in front of the dining hall, and walk into the breezeway leading to the stables. They’d taken Ghost in for treatment, and she found it puzzling that they’d leave the skelli alone and even more curious as to why a healer and Senior Guardian would need to visit the horses.

  “Perfect excuse to get out of here for a while, my girl.” Smiling to herself, she pushed her chair under her desk and left through the rear door of her office. The back stairs led to a gate in the garden that surrounded the Citadel. She stepped through it and then walked along the short, covered passageway until she came to a second gate that opened onto the breezeway to the stables.

  There she found the stablemaster, Kemi Leernan, inspecting two barrels with the master cooper standing nearby. Sábria walked over and smiled at the old man, whom she’d known since her time as a young Blade. “Master Erlong. I haven’t seen you in ages.” She knew something was wrong when the normally friendly man looked up and turned grey at her approach.

  He pulled his wool cap from his head and held it in front of his chest. Normally, the man would have immediately bowed at her approach. Instead, he stood blinking at her with round owlish eyes, trying to say something yet seemingly totally incapable of speech.

  “Are you feeling unwell? Do you need a healer?”

  That seemed to pull him out of whatever shock her arrival had caused. He said louder than necessary, “Lady Sábria. I’m…I mean…I didn’t expect to see you this morning.” He sketched a deep bow, and when he straightened, he glanced over his shoulder and then, realizing he shouldn’t have, quickly looked back at the Arch Priestess.

  Sábria had dealt with Blades, commoners, and nobles long enough to know when someone was worried that she would discover something going on that was either against the rules, unethical, or, quite often, just plain stupid. She stepped to the gate he’d glanced at and looked into the stall, where she found Terrowyn and Kara standing with the same owlish expressions plastered on their faces. Behind them, she saw a pair of men’s boots, but the two women were standing so close together she couldn’t see the man attached to them. “Terro? Do you have something you’d like to tell me?”

  Closing her eyes and growling at her stupidity, Terro nodded. “Yes, Milady. And Kara knew nothing about this. This was all my idea, and I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for?”

  Terro stepped aside, allowing Sábria to see Master Erlong’s son, Heben, holding an obviously painful broken arm close to his chest.

  Sábria stepped forward. “It’s Heben, isn’t it? What happened?”

  The young man’s forehead was covered in sweat. To make up for the fact that he couldn’t let go of his injured arm to pull off his cap, he lowered himself onto one knee and bowed his head. “Milady Sábria. I shouldn’t of come. Me da said it were th’ only way, but I knew it were wrong. F…fergive, me please, Milady. With yer leave, we’ll be on our way.”

  He looked up with such pleading eyes that she motioned for him to stand. “Stand up, Heben, if you can, and tell me what happened to your arm.”

  Behind her, Master Erlong said, “Milady. It weren’t Senior Guardian Terrowyn’s fault. It were mine—”

  Sábria held up her hand. “I don’t care who’s responsible. I want to know what happened to Heben’s arm. Terrowyn, did you break it?”

  Terrowyn’s brows rose into her bangs. “No, Milady! Goddess no! Heben fell out of their loft and broke his arm, but they don’t have enough coin fer a healer, and Kara won’t have her clinic in th’ Codpiece fer days yet. Heben is Master Erlong’s assistant, well, and his son, and with a cocked-up arm, he won’t be able to take over th’ Brown Barrel. I thought…” She realized she was babbling, something that never happened, and she shut her mouth and looked at the ground.

  Sábria had never seen Terro so nervous before, but she understood that for a woman who never broke the rules, being caught doing so by the Arch Priestess was both disgraceful and humiliating. It was because she was such a stickler for rules that Terrowyn was one of the Temple’s best Senior Guardians when it came to training new shivs. She was hard on them, but shivs who trained under her almost always survived to become Blades. That was the main reason she’d wanted Ailith in her squad. “So, you asked Kara to look at his arm?”

  “Yes, Milady.”

  Hearing the shame in her Blade’s voice had Sábria taking hold of Terro’s arm. “We’ll discuss this later, but for now…” she turned to Kara, “…can you set the arm?”

  Blushing furiously, Kara nodded, “I can. I’ll need some wraps from the infirmary, and I need to sew up Ghost’s leg wound first.”

  Sábria looked down at the ground and thought for a moment. There was too much at stake here for everyone involved for her to make a hasty decision. Everyone was watching her as she stepped to the side so she could look at both men. “No, if we open that door, it would be difficult to close it again. We don’t treat injured men within Elyon’s Temple. Master Erlong, how much silver did the healer’s guild want for setting the arm?”

  The old man wrung his cap and shook his head. “Four silvers, Milady. I just don’t—”

  Sábria held up a hand to silence him again. “Four silvers? No wonder the nobs and pidges in the Codpiece can’t afford a healer.”

  “Milady, we—”

  She only had to raise her brows and cock her head to silence him this time. When the cooper stopped midsentence, she reached into her belt pouch and produced four silver coins. “While we can’t heal men here at the Temple, neither can we turn our backs on the good, honest members of the community we live in. Take this with Elyon’s blessing, and please, tell no one where you got the coin.”

  Tears overflowed the old man’s face as he fell to both knees. “Bless you, Milady. We’ll pay you back somehow. I swear it.”

  Motioning to the barrels he’d brought with him, Sábria smiled, “Perhaps free barrels for a full turn might do the trick? I know our stablemaster will be needing quite a few when she gets those new horses from Terrowyn’s family.”

  The old man’s rheumy eyes brightened. With Kara’s help, he pushed to his feet. “Two barrels every season fer a full turn.” He held out his hand and was just about to spit into his palm when Terrowyn’s growl stopped him.

  “Don’t you dare.”

  Master Erlong froze, swallowed, and lowered his hand.

  Terrowyn glared at him. “A bargain with th’ Arch Priestess is a bargain sealed. Ye’ll not insult her by spittin’ in her presence.”

  His brows rose, and he nodded emphatically, “Of course. Of course. Please fergive an old man th’ habits of a lifetime, Milady Sábria. And thank ya again. Ya saved my boy’s life today.”

  Sábria returned the coin purse to her belt pouch. “Nothing to be forgiven, old friend. Only remember, neither of you will tell anyone where the coin came from. Understood?”

  Both men nodded and kept their hats in their hands as they backed out of the stall, keeping their faces to Sábria as they would to the priests and priestesses of any of the lessor religious orders in Cibía.

  Deciding it was easier to let them go than try to explain why that wasn’t necessary within the Temple of Elyon, Sábria waited until they were out of earshot and turned to her two senior temple residents. “Kara, did I hear you say you still need to sew up Ghost’s wound?”

  “Yes, Milady.”

  “Then, I’m going to assume you were simply offering an educated opinion as to the severity of Heben’s broken arm. You’re free to return to the infirmary.” Sábria noticed the look that passed between Terrowyn and Kara. “Don’t worry, Terro. You’ll join her shortly. I don’t think Kara will start without you.”

  Kara nodded again. “No, Milady. I’ll wait in the infirmary until Blade Terrowyn arrives.”

  After she’d left, Terrowyn, whose shame was evident in the red hue suffusing her cheeks, crossed her arms and stared at the ground. This was atypical behavior for the Senior Guardian, and Sábria rested a hand on the muscular arm. “Next time, come to me when you have a problem that you’re unsure how to handle. The world’s not black and white, Terro. I understand that, but we can’t pick and choose which rules to abide by and which to set aside. You’re better than that. Look at me, please.”

  The muscle in Terrowyn’s jaw jumped, but she forced herself to look into her Arch Priestess’ eyes.

  “I know you’ll punish yourself more than I ever would. I’m not ashamed of you. I’m proud that you saw a need and tried to help. To be honest, in you, I see that as growth instead of failure. Sometimes your harsh, standoffish personality keeps you from opening up to others in need.” She smiled. “But since taking care of others outside of your normal work duties isn’t a muscle you use very often, come to me or Geller or Shirin the next time the mood strikes. Just to bounce your idea off one of us. Maybe together, we’ll come up with a solution that won’t include breaking Temple rules.”

  There was only one person who could make Keavey Terrowyn blush, and that was her Arch Priestess. Knowing she was as red as an overripe tomato, she pulled her arms in tighter across her chest and nodded. “Yes, Milady. And…thank you. Fer not beatin’ th’ shite out of me fer bein’ such a fool and fer th’ help ya gave Heben. I’ve known him a long time, and he’s a good lad.”

  “Yes, he is. And I haven’t punished you in turns and hopefully never will again. Now, shall we go see to your little skelli?” She’d been concerned about Terrowyn’s attachment to a skelli that probably wouldn’t survive more than a few more turns, and she decided she needed to see the problem for herself before a solution could be found for both Terrowyn and for her little Ghost.

  CHAPTER 9

  The healer hall, one of the most beautiful buildings in the Temple, consisted of three main wings on the first floor and a small dormitory on the second. All three wings branched off a central, arched hallway that glowed a vibrant orangish-yellow from braziers attached at regular intervals. Intricately carved ivory-colored columns rose from the floor to the ceiling’s curved, stained glass windows.

  As Sábria stepped through the door into the hall, the light from three cheerful fires at the very end of the hallway greeted her. Two of the fires sat in raised, recessed alcoves on either side of the main circular fireplace. The highly polished grey granite floor reflected the fire’s light in three elongated yellow orbs. The architectural design of their healer’s hall was truly a delight to behold.

  She and Terrowyn turned into the first wing on the right, where three healers, including Master Haria, were standing around Ghost’s bed. The room was set up to treat acute wounds as opposed to the second wing, where warriors stayed while they recuperated from their injuries. Only twenty beds occupied the acute care room, with the remainder taken up by three bathing tubs, two surgical tables, and a great many cabinets holding whatever medical instruments or herbal remedies might be needed at a given time.

  The three women were speaking in hushed tones. The Master Healer placed a hand on Ghost’s forehead and used her thumb to lift one of the skelli’s eyelids.

  Terrowyn jerked to a stop and then rushed to the bed. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”

  Sábria followed at a more sedate pace. Although her heart always went out to the skellies and nints living in the Codpiece, she was more concerned for her Blade than she was for Ghost. Shirin had mentioned her concern about Terrowyn’s feelings for the child, but because of the Senior Guardian’s choice of living a solitary life despite the fact that she made her home in a fairly crowded Temple, Sábria hadn’t been too concerned over the news. Terrowyn had a few close friends, but she’d never formed a lasting partnership bond with any of them.

  The near panic on Terrowyn’s face when she’d seen the healers clustered around the bed made Sábria realize Shirin had been right on the mark. Thinking back to when Terrowyn had found the babe lying in the sewage-filled gutter, she wondered if some type of maternal bonding had happened when she’d rescued the otherwise doomed infant.

  Surely the bond couldn’t go both ways, could it? From all she’d heard, the skelli was as feral as they came. There’d been a reason Terrowyn had started calling her Ghost. Over the turns, Sábria had overheard other Blades talking about rare sightings of the skelli, and even then, they only glimpsed her in the dark of the night. More recently, in the last turn or so, they’d talked about Terrowyn luring the skelli in with food, and some even said the chit had no speech or vocabulary. How, then, could gruff, taciturn Terrowyn open her heart to such a wild, untamed child?

  Approaching the bed, Sábria overheard Kara reassuring Terrowyn.

  “She’s fine, Terro. I asked Lady Haria to make sure I gave Ghost the correct dose of Canelein since she has no fat on her body.”

  Lady Haria straightened and clasped her hands in front of her stomach. “I’d say you mixed the correct amount, Kara. I would expect no less. I think while the skelli is unconscious, though, it would be a good idea to remove her clothes and look for other injuries that you may have missed.”

  “No!” Terrowyn shook her head vehemently. “I don’t think,” she shook her head a second time, “I think that would be a violation of….” Her head started to ache, and she rubbed her temples, unsure how to express what she was trying to say. When she supervised other Blades, the last thing she’d ever do was explain why she’d given an order. Either they obeyed, or they felt the flat of her sword. Easy enough. But explaining her feelings to others was something totally foreign to her. Gods’ balls, the idea of having feelings was totally foreign to her, for that matter.

  Sábria had known Terrowyn since the woman had first arrived at the Temple some twenty turns earlier. In all of that time, she’d never seen the Blade this emotionally unsure of herself. She placed a hand on Terro’s back and calmly said, “You gave her your word that you’d protect her, and you believe that protecting her dignity is part of the trust she’s placed in you. Is that right?”

  Terrowyn shot Sábria a grateful look before returning her attention to the Master Healer. “That’s exactly it, My Lady. I told her I’d protect her while she was here in th’ Temple, and I know she wouldn’t want us to take off her clothes.”

  Lady Haria stared at the Senior Guardian as though she were looking at a stranger. She’d also known Terrowyn since she’d first come to the Temple, and to see her so concerned about a ragged, filthy skelli made her wonder exactly what was happening with the Blade.

  She flicked a quick glance at Sábria and then returned her patient gaze to Terrowyn. “Privacy in the infirmary is different from privacy within the Temple, Terrowyn. There’s a reason I suggest taking off her clothing. Many of our patients think that they’re retaining their dignity by not exposing their bodies to strangers’ eyes, but very often, the injuries we find beneath the clothing are more significant than what we’d been led to believe. Ghost has a substantial injury to her leg, a life-threatening one if we were to leave it untreated. I believe we need to see what other injuries she might have.

  Haria tried not to turn up her nose in disgust when she glanced down at Ghost’s clothes. “Along the lines of keeping that leg wound clean, perhaps we should consider outfitting her with a new set of clean tunic and trews.”