“No, I’m from Sol originally. The lamplight makes your eye glow. Also, the color of your hair is rare in humans even though you’re as tanned as a woodsman. How did you lose your other eye?” She nodded towards the patch.
He bit his lip and studied the suture a moment. Most humans did not take him for a Shae at first because of the medallion he wore. But firelight always gave it away to the astute.
“I didn’t lose it.”
“But you’re wearing a patch.”
He looked up at her. “I was born blind in that eye. Never been able to see out of it. Here, take some of this juttleberry ointment and cover the wound with it. As thick as you like.”
Ticastasy looked at him, her lip pursing. She snatched the little tub of ointment from his hand. “You don’t have to lie to me, Exeres. If you don’t want to say why you wear a patch, then don’t say it.”
He stopped and hung his head, wondering why she was making an issue out of it. “The explanation works well with most people. But you must know a lot of liars. Sorry if I offended you.”
“I’ve been watching you all afternoon, Zerite. What you’ve done for these people is truly wonderful. You remind me of a…friend.” Something about how she said the word snagged at his thoughts. More than a friend, obviously. He waited a moment for her to continue, confident that she would. She did.
“He was from Avisahn, and he helped save the life of my best friend.” Her look darkened.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Exeres asked. “Why be so melancholy about it?”
She nodded. “I had sent for a Zerite to heal him because he’d been in a fight with some Kiran Thall. They say you priests can touch a man and bring his life back. Is that true?”
Exeres nodded. “We don’t do it very often, because it hurts us. It takes part of our Life magic and feeds it into another. Did a Zerite come?”
She shook her head. “No, but my other friend came and healed him instead. With the Everoot.”
Exeres wadded up some more bandage and covered the man’s stomach with it. “I’ve never heard of that plant before. What is it again? Everoot?”
She rubbed her cheek, her eyes haunted with memories. “It’s like moss with little blue flowers. But it is Silvan magic. The Shae use it. It brought Flent back to life.”
He raised one of his eyebrows. The description sounded like a plant from the Druid histories—one that was known to be a terrible poison. “Hmmm. You don’t seem happy that he was cured.”
She looked down at her hands. “He died in Landmoor not long ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. It’s not easy losing those we care for. Tell me about him. That often helps a wound of the heart to heal. I’ll let this fellow sleep a while before waking him.”
“Eat something first.”
Exeres sighed and took a nibble from the trencher bowl. He didn’t eat meat, so he tore bread away from the trencher and sopped it up with gravy. “Thank you. Let’s move on to that one….no, he’s already dead…that one then. Nasty gash on his head. He might not ever wake up.” He set his chirurgery packet down near his knees and watched her move around to the other side.
“The blood doesn’t bother you?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’ve seen more split skulls than I wish I had. Let me change his bandage.”
“That would help. Tell me about Flent. Now that’s a pretty easy name to remember.”
“I don’t think I can. I’m still…working through it. He was a Drugaen. Do you know about the Drugaen?”
Exeres nodded. “They’re men who were deformed centuries ago and live in the caves below the Ravenstone. Rather stunted in height, but I’ve heard their folk are strong enough to lift a horse.”
“If you told one they were stunted, you might have to try some healing art on yourself, Zerite. Some folks thought Flent was in love with me or something silly like that, but he was more like a little brother. Had a temper, of course. Loved his ale. But he was thoughtful and always there for me. Then Quickfellow came and everything about my life went to the winds. He’s the Shae I told you about—the one who healed Flent. We followed him here and then on to Landmoor to try and do something that would stop this banned war.” Shaking her head, she wrung the bloody rags and tossed them to the pile and then dipped her hands in the bucket again. “Losing Flent was like losing my hand or losing a piece of my soul. I don’t think…I don’t know that I’ll ever get over it. I don’t know where Quickfellow ended up. Avisahn maybe.”
“Quickfellow sounds like a proper Shae name to me.” Exeres studied the wounded scalp and wondered what he would be able to do about it. “My mother was a Shae, but I never knew her. My father was a Druid priest, and he taught me what I know about healing. I look at this man and wonder if he’ll wake up again. Part of the answer is whether he has anything here he wants to live for. I’ve seen people with small wounds snuff out like candles. I’ve seen knights who’ve lost their legs press on, fighting for life and winning.”
Her expression darkened again.