Gallel's Heir

Chapter 13.1: River of Tears

Canúden took Nut as quickly as the gelding could run through Darkwood, and tied him to a tree in Dylin’s garden. He entered Gallel, mind focused on where Dylin put her gray medical bag. Foolish to not have asked her. Was it in her wardrobe? He didn’t remember having seen it next to her herb box in the pantry. He climbed the stairs, nodded habitually to Anath’s statue, and made his way to their room. He found the heavy leather bag, as he had thought, at the back of Dylin’s wardrobe. He grunted with satisfaction at having found it so easily. He filled the bag with tinctures and essences, and boxes of herbs Dylin would want, then left.

Boreck met him at the crossing of a hallway on the way to Gallel’s north entrance. The guard’s sneer in the flickering candlelight sickened Canúden. “Are you ready for the voyage, kel Ubal?”

Canúden relaxed his hold on the medical bag. “We are not to leave for a few days, Boreck. I only heard about it this evening. So no, I’m not ready. Excuse me.” He took a step to continue on his way, but Boreck, twice his size, blocked him.

“You’re here, aren’t you? There’s a lot to get done before you go.”

“I’m the treasurer, not the voyage planner. I’m on an errand for San Dylin, and I must go now, Boreck.”

Sneer. “An errand for your lady. You need her now?”

Arrgh! “She’s healing some critically ill patients and is waiting for her medical bag. Urgently. Do you want their lives on your hands, man?” Stupid question. Stupid to talk.

Boreck smiled, his perfect teeth sparkling in the candlelight. “I have plenty of lives on my hands. What difference does it make?”

“I’m not a slave, Boreck. I’m not even a servant. Get out of my way.” He pushed the man’s chest, and Boreck laughed.

“The Kel wants to see you now for a few minutes. He’s waiting so anxiously for you. I can’t say what consequences there’ll be if you don’t go see him. I’d say it’s a good idea, in your best interest, you know. And your lady’s.”

The guard stepped aside enough for Canúden to squeeze past. He had to know that threat would catch Canúden every time. “Why does he want to see me?”

Boreck shrugged. “I suppose it must have something to do with the voyage. Important things, you know.”

“Fine.” Canúden tightened his grip on the bag’s strap. “Is he in his office?”

“Of course.”

Canúden ran down the corridor towards Tutang’s office. He knocked and, after hearing a grunt, entered. The Kel stopped pacing. Tutang’s drapes hung open, indicating the Kel was in a relatively thoughtful, even pleasant, mood. Moonlight and flickering lamplight glistened on dust swirling over open books and papers that cluttered his desk, and the animals on the walls glared down, as always. Canúden tensed. The room was cold and smelled of sweat and old dust.

“Ah, Canúden,” Tutang clapped his hands, smiling blankly as if he failed to really see him. “You’re here. I thought you should know we’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow! What happened to a few days?”

“Oh, I want to get going while it’s nice outside. Before a snowstorm comes. Springtide can’t come before we get to Akroob.”

Canúden grunted. “This is hardly a good time. Have you heard that the forest around Kampten burned? People, your people, are hurt badly. They need Dylin for a few more days at least.”

Tutang laid a black satin ribbon in Political Empires before he closed the book. “Oh, what’s that to do with us, my dear boy?”

“The villagers need Dylin’s healing.”