Conjunction

Chapter 9 - The Healer

About a week after starting north from Vizima and crossing the Pontar river, Solona saw a horse tethered at the side of the road. The horse, grazing idly on roadside weeds, was heavy with travelling gear, including a pair of scabbards on one side of the saddle, one of which held a large sword, the other empty. She felt a small vibration at her throat and glanced down at her amulet in alarm. She lifted it and looked at it curiously. The outline of the etched figure of the wolf was glowing brightly. That's odd, she thought, its never done that before. Realizing that this couldn't be a coincidence, she dismounted to see if she could find the rider of the other horse.

"Lusa, can you hear if anyone is nearby?" she asked her furry companion.

He woofed a soft affirmative back to her and trotted a short way into the woods, pausing and turning back towards her.

She followed slowly, careful not to disturb the underbrush. After several steps she began to hear the sounds of a fight, and what she finally saw through the trees nearly left her breathless. She was at the edge of a large clearing covered in moss and brambles, and on the far side there was a white-haired man with a silver sword in a fierce battle against some kind of strange creature she'd never seen before. The way he fought was mesmerizing to her. She was not adept with a sword, but was familiar enough with swordfighting styles to recognize that this man was a master. His style was akin to a dance. Every feint or dodge would effortlessly transition into an offensive attack so fast that she could barely even follow, and neither could his opponent. She stood transfixed, watching him, and realized that from the descriptions she'd had of him thus far this must be the White Wolf. She was so enthralled that she barely noticed the addition of several smaller versions of the creature he fought creeping into the clearing.

She watched transfixed as he finished off the creature he had cornered, but came to her senses suddenly when the air was filled with the screaming cries of the creature's young. She realized that the man was cornered and outnumbered, and the magical shield he'd erected had fallen away. He recovered quickly, however, tossing a small bomb at the group of creatures, destroying them all in a flash of fire, but then she caught sight of another large group of them on the other side of him.

She cried out a warning and started running towards him, but with a surge of dread realized that she was too far to reach him in time. The second group of creatures screamed as tiny spines shot out from their hides in all directions, hundreds of them piercing his leather armor. She ducked instinctively to avoid any strays and heard him bellow a loud curse as the spines hit him, then he turned back in her direction, trying to escape. He appeared dazed as he began to approach her and his steps started to falter as he stumbled along drunkenly. He paused a moment, and shook his head as if trying to clear his vision, took a couple more staggering steps, then toppled forward as though some invisible lumberjack had just taken the felling blow with an axe. There was a loud thud as he hit the ground just as she reached him. In range of the creatures now, she quickly cast a fireball into the center of their clustered group, incinerating them all in one shot.

She cringed at the terrible screams that filled the clearing for the moment it took the creatures to die. Then knelt down by the man's side.

"Witcher! Stay awake! Stay with me!" she urged as she began quickly extracting spines from him.

There were dozens of them sticking out of every inch of his armor on one side, so sharp that most of them had pierced clean through and were embedded in his skin. She sniffed at the tip of one to see if she could discern what type of poison it was. Nerve poison most likely. When she finished pulling out and discarding all the poison spines she quickly laid two fingers on the side of his throat looking for a pulse. It was fast and faint - not a good sign. He had so many tiny wounds, and the poison now coursing through his system would make it very difficult to effectively heal him. She needed to be able to extract the poison that she knew was already seeping its way gradually throughout his body. Frantic for a moment, she tried to remember what she had learned about poisons in her healing studies at the Circle. She remembered one remedy - a lyrium bath - that was recommended for high fevers or other afflictions that affected a person bodily. She knew it was her best chance at saving him, but she needed to get to an inn as quickly as possible. She stepped around behind him and grasped him under his arms, and with all her effort she dragged his leaden body back through the woods to the horses. She searched through her saddlebags for a length of rope to secure him to his horse. Summoning strength she wasn't sure she possessed she managed to lift him up and sling him across his horse's back, belly down. She secured him as best she could with the ropes. As an afterthought she quickly ran back to the clearing to retrieve the glinting silver sword near where the man had fallen and replaced it in its scabbard on his saddle. Then, holding the other horse's reins, she mounted her own horse and urged both horses into a brisk canter, glancing back periodically to be sure he was still secure.

Before she and Lusa had broken camp that morning she had studied her maps and was fairly certain there was an inn no more than a few miles from where they were. After what seemed an eternity of careful stop and go with the horses, once having to dismount and re-secure his bindings, she finally saw smoke tendrils rising from a large chimney over the next hill. She urged the horses into a brisk trot again to reach it. As she crested the hill she caught sight of the large, sprawling stone building with a neat row of dormers, and stables off to one side. She hailed the stables with a yell and two young stablehands popped into view, gaping at her as she rode into the yard.

"What are your names?" she asked as she dismounted and began grabbing the gear she would need.

"I'm Caleb and he's Aubry," one boy replied.

"Hello, Caleb. Hurry and help me untie this man and get him inside," she said to the boy who spoke, gesturing at the body still draped over the horse.

To the other stablehand she said, "Aubry, please see to the horses, and then bring all our gear as quickly as you can. There's an oren for you if nothing is missing when you bring it."

Giving her a mildly insulted look, Aubry replied, in a serious tone, "Aye, milady. I will see to it."

Slinging her small pack of essentials over her shoulder, she began to hurriedly finish untying the Witcher's bindings, then with Caleb's help, gently slid him off the horse between them.

"Oof, he's a heavy one," the boy stated. "He's that Witcher, ain't he? I thought them was mighty monster hunters - he don't look so mighty now."

"Even the mightiest can be outnumbered sometimes," she replied, with a sideways glance. "We need to get him to a room quickly so I can help him."

"We have the nicest rooms in Kaedwen," the boy said, puffing out his chest proudly.

"Is this your inn, then?" she asked as they shuffled towards the inn under their heavy burden.

"Aye," he said, then amended, "Well, it's my Da's - he's Bernard, like on the sign there," he gestured with his chin towards a brightly painted sign hanging over the door to the inn, which proclaimed "Bernard's Inn and Tavern" in large swirly text.

She quickly arranged with the innkeeper for a room and a hot bath to be brought up immediately. By the time they made it to the room on the second floor, Aubry had caught up to them with the gear from the horses, with Lusa loping along at his heels. The room was rustic but comfortable, with a large bed on the far side near the windows, opposite a large stone fireplace, and an alcove just inside the door that contained a huge stone tub and next to it a small bench with a lid that was clearly the privy. There were large, cloth covered screens that separated each area of the room and provided privacy from the entrance. They lowered the Witcher's heavy form across the bed and she gestured to the corner for Aubry to leave their belongings. In the background she could hear several maids filling the bath from large pails, then one went to start a fire in the hearth. She handed Aubry his promised fee and thanked him, then turned to the other boy.

"Caleb, I need your help getting him into the bath before you go."

"Uh... a bath, milady? Oughtn't we to send for a healer to tend to him first?"

"I AM a healer," she replied emphatically, "and if I don't get him into this bath and start healing him soon, he may very well die! So please help me get him undressed and into the water, quickly."

Shrugging his shoulders, the boy complied, stooping down to pull off the Witcher's boots while Solona quickly unfastened the buckles on his heavy leather vest. As they lowered the still unconscious naked form into the steaming water, she could see large, angry red welts covering most of his body. She expressed her thanks to Caleb with another oren tip and he left, closing the door behind him.

She grabbed her small pack and pulled out her meager supply of lyrium. She closed her eyes and muttered a few words in prayer before she emptied the last of her lyrium into the water, then swirled it around with one hand. She glanced up in alarm as the Witcher's inanimate form began to list to one side and gradually slide down into the water. Cursing, she quickly grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to hoist him back up. This wouldn't do. She couldn't keep him from drowning and heal him at the same time. She quickly stripped out of her clothing. Holding him slightly forward by the shoulders, she slid down into the water behind him, finally coming to rest with his head heavy against her chest. She slid one arm around his torso to secure him safely from falling beneath the surface.

With her free hand she began to work on the multitude of stings, humming a simple incantation like a mantra, and pushing her healing power into the water. The lyrium mixed into the bath began to emanate a faint blue glow as it channeled the healing spell she was casting and started leeching the poison from the tiny punctures throughout his body. She worked like this for an hour until the water started to grow tepid. When she started feeling a chill, she switched her focus briefly and a bright orange glow appeared in her hand beneath the water, the subtle fire spell warming the water back up to a comfortable temperature. She checked his pulse and found that it was slower and stronger and she let out a sigh of relief. "I knew I hadn't lost you yet, Witcher. Come back to me."

Looking down at the pale, sturdy form in the water she noticed a bandage wrapped around his right bicep, spots of dried blood showing through. She unwrapped it gently and saw a set of deep, angry gashes underneath, and drew her hand across them, healing them neatly in one stroke. He looked much younger now that she had a close look at him. His white hair had given the impression of an old, but very agile, man at first, but upon inspection she saw that his face was mostly unlined by age, but had a few scars, the most obvious mark was one angry scar gracing it from forehead to cheek on the left side. His body was tightly muscled - and covered in a web of scars as detailed as the maps she had followed to find him. She wondered what stories his scars could tell, if they could speak to her now. She, too, had scars and stories to accompany them, though the worst of her scars were not visible on her skin. She only hoped that he would at least be willing to hear her story and her reason for seeking out his help, and that he would indeed have the answers that the dryad queen had implied he would have.

She resumed her healing spell for a while longer until she was comfortable that he was safe from the poison. She checked his pulse again, then warmed the water once more. She finally rested her head back against the wall behind her, exhausted. There was nothing to do now but wait and hope he awakened soon. She stared distractedly at the lit candle at the end of the tub, her mind wandering, hopping through all the events that had led her here. The warmth of the tub and the heavy weight against her provided an odd comfort that she hadn't felt in a very long time. Her eyelids began to droop and she drifted off to sleep, her arm still clutched around his bare chest.

She was standing on a cliff on a high mountain, snow swirling around her in the cold light of a full moon. She heard the eerie cries of dragons, mingled with the howl of a wolf. She knew there was a high dragon nearby, but this sounded like there were two of them calling back and forth to each other. She turned to walk up the path to a temple that stood on the peak above her. She passed through the doors into a sanctuary where there was a large stone altar surrounded by seven braziers. On the altar sat a large white wolf regarding her silently. He rose from the altar and ambled down to her, sniffed at her hand, then loped out the open door. She followed him out and stood frozen in place as his howl pierced the night, calling out to unseen allies. A moment later two high dragons landed in the clearing around them and answered the wolf, their voices trumpeting eerily in the snowy night.

Next Chapter: In which they become better acquainted.