Eban

13 - Eban

The walls of Bambridge rose stark and strong against the clouded sky. Behind the high walls Eban could just make out the Sanctuary spire. He smiled at the sight and felt the tension in his neck and shoulders ease. He may not know what lay beyond those walls yet, but he was finally close enough to help.

"Finally." Eban glanced at Arran, seeing his own relief echoed on his friend's face.

It had been a long journey to Bambridge. What should have taken three days - the average journey time on foot from Barkon - had taken over a week. Whiting had seen the greatest delay. After their arrival and the message from Elaine, Eban had wanted to leave immediately. But the few minutes he spent at his house gathering supplies had been enough for the fastest of the townspeople to learn of his arrival and station themselves just outside. When he tried to leave, he found a queue of people waiting, all of whom were desperate to be checked for any possible infection. And Eban could hardly deny them.

It took two days for him to check everyone who came. Thank the gods, he found no sign of infection, but the searching and scanning left him tired enough that he was forced to wait another night before he could leave.

Cedric and Arran had been waiting at the end of his path the morning of his departure. Eban did not bother trying to dissuade them from coming. He was sure their parents had already said plenty and clearly to no avail. Besides, it had always been the three of them, as far back as Eban could remember. Eban was willing to bet that it had been from birth, considering he was the youngest of them. Having them with him was only natural. Even if it meant he had two more people to look after, Eban was glad they were there.

Bambridge was not as still as Eban had expected it to be from the reports and rumours they had heard on the way. A yellow flag of quarantine flew above the walls, but the sounds of any large town filtered through - murmurs from hundreds of voices, the occasional wail of a child, the low thunder of horses hooves and the accompanying whiney of protestation. Whatever was happening beyond the walls, those were not the sound of deserted streets and hopelessness.

The town guards were quick to respond to the sound of Arran pounding at the gates. As gentle as he was most of the time, Arran was the son of a blacksmith and had the upper body strength to match. No one wanted to listen to the sound of his fist hitting the solid oaken door any longer than necessary.

"What do you want?" A man, with an expression as irritated as his tone, appeared above the gates. "Can't you see the flag? We're in quarantine. No one in or out."

"That's why we're here," Eban called up. "I'm a Healer. I can help."

Even from the distance, Eban could feel the contempt of the guard as he gave him a once over. There were times when he hated being so young. No one ever took him seriously. Not unless he was angry. And Eban hated getting angry.

"Thanks, but we've got two Healers in here already, and they're doing fine on their own. The lady said the gates should be okay to open in the next few days. Better you go on and see if anyone else needs your help."

"The lady?" Eban asked. "Elaine?"

"You know her?" The guard's sceptical tone made it clear that he doubted anyone as lowly as Eban could possibly know Elaine.

Eban bit his cheek to stop a grin. His mother always did know how to make herself indispensable.

"She's my mother. I understand that you don't want us inside, but can you bring her out? I need to talk to her."

The guard glared down. "Very well. Wait there." He disappeared behind the battlements.

"Where exactly does he expect us to go?" Cedric muttered.