Jabone's Sword (35 page)

No bird sang, no bug made a sound. The captain had ordered them to dismount and look for any evidence that any of the troop might still be alive. He had seen something strange on the ground and had bent over and picked it up without thinking. He quickly dropped it when he realized it was a chunk of skull with brain and hair still attached. Tarius the Black had been right. No one had lived through this slaughter save those that she had extracted and they were about to be next. He knew it, could feel it in his bones even before he heard that awful sound.

When he'd heard it the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. It was like nothing he'd ever heard before, like the sound of a thousand feet scraping against an earthen floor. His heart had filled with dread, and then they were all over them.

* * *

They were all going to die, and that being the case there was no glory in making a stand. He screamed at his unit to retreat and they did, but only three of them made it clear of the battle, and they just rode in a dead heat in and out of trees, trying to ignore the battle at their backs. They weren't cowards; they were just practical. They were well clear when they came to a big rocky hill. They started running around it because to go over it would have slowed them down too much. One of his fellows, obviously with a stronger sense of self preservation than even he had, had gotten ahead of him and run right into a wall of Amalites. They seemed to just be boiling up out of the ground. He and his other fellow turned their horses back the way he had come and he—remembering what they had left behind them—turned his horse once again and then just started running his horse through the woods like a thousand demons were behind him because they were. He heard his last fellow scream and turned his head just in time to see him topple to the ground with an arrow through his chest.

He spurred his horse on, pushing him to his limits. He had to get back, he had to get to the garrison and tell them that he knew where they were hiding. Tell them how many of them there were.

Mostly he just had to get away from those things.

He didn't see the rope. It hit him hard in the chest and knocked him off his horse. The horse ran on and then they were on him and he prayed death would come quickly—which it did.

Persius glared at the herald. "What!" he boomed.

The herald, who was no doubt tired of having to repeat everything twice and feeling more and more by the day that he was close to being beheaded said, "There is no word from Captain Hank's troop and the last runner sent to meet him has also gone missing." Then he cringed.

Persius took a deep breath and let it out. "What matter of fool doesn't listen to Tarius the Black in matters concerning war? They are all dead. You know that, don't you?"

The herald just shrugged.

Persius thought over the message Tarius had left for him. She was going to the Kartik. She would meet with Queen Hestia and then she would come back and they would discuss how best to deal with the Amalite horde. He was sure that if his people knew that he was taking no action while waiting for the council of two women there would be a great outcry, but they didn't know and they weren't going to find out. If his news was undependable, the common man's was far worse, and everyone who knew what was really going on could be hung for treason to the crown if they opened their mouths. Still it irked him to do nothing, to have no idea what was really going on when he was sure that Tarius did.

He ignored the herald for the moment, turning to Hellibolt. "She doesn't expect the Amalites to move against us again. That must be why she is in no hurry, why she has returned to the Kartik. Her son is wounded and she has time for him to heal because she doesn't expect the Amalites to move again soon, but why? Why doesn't she expect them to attack again?"

Hellibolt shrugged. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know! What manner of wizard are you?"

"An honest one. If I knew, I'd tell you."

"Oh no you wouldn't. You'd spit out a bunch of riddles then I'd spend weeks trying to figure out just what you meant and then just as I did you'd come back and tell me I was wrong."

"Sire," the Herald said, "what message do you want sent to the garrison?"

"Hellibolt, what should I do?"

"What matter of fool doesn't listen to Tarius the Black concerning war?" Hellibolt repeated.

Persius took a deep breath, let it out, and then calm he turned to the herald. "Tell them I said to do nothing. That we are waiting for Tarius the Black to return from the Kartik. She knows what we are facing and two troops of our men have died trying to learn that. When she has returned I will meet with her and we will make our plans. That is all." This time the herald left at a run, no doubt glad to take Persius's leave.

"You are willing to let her run things then?"

"For the most part. What real choice do I have? She has my daughter for one thing. Besides, only she has faced them and lived. Only she and her people are even close to knowing where to find them. This will not be an ordinary battle; I know that." He looked at Hellibolt for conformation.

Hellibolt nodded and said, "I have seen a multitude of them swarming in my mind a great menace."

"Tell me now, do we have time to wait for Tarius?"

"Yes, the Amalites will not need to raid another village for a long time as they are very busy filling their larder."

"What does that even mean?"

Of course Hellibolt had gone.

* * *

The bulk of the Marching Night had stayed in the Valley of the Katabull. They had gathered up the Katabull's best surgeon and Arvon, Jena, Tarius the Black, Jabone, Jestia and Ufalla had taken Kasiria and gone on to Jezel's spring in Montero. Jabone had ridden in the wagon with Kasiria the whole way to Montero, holding her head to keep it from jarring around in the back of the wagon even though Jestia kept insisting she couldn't feel a thing.

When they had pulled up outside Jezel's, his madra went in to get the old witch, then returned to the group with Jezel in tow. Jazel looked over Kasiria where she lay with her head still cradled in Jabone's lap then looked at Jestia who had just dismounted from her horse and hissed at her, "What have you done girl?"

"You know what I did old woman," Jestia said, unrepentant.

"You're lucky to be alive."

"I know."

Jezel nodded and said grudgingly, "You did a good job. She seems to be in a complete state of nothingness."

"That's good?" Tarius asked.

"She hasn't gotten any worse has she?"

"No," Tarius said.

"Then considering that air is still leaking out of one of her lungs I'd say she's doing a lot better than the dead she should have been. We need a good surgeon. I'm a witch not a cutter."

"Taboro is the best cutter of my people," Tarius said.

"Cutter?" Jabone didn't like the sounds of that.

"Taboro knows what he's doing, son," Jena said.

Jabone moved, laying her head down carefully and then he grabbed one end of the stretcher as his madra grabbed the other and they unloaded Kasiria from the wagon. They took her directly to the spring where Taboro explained, "Jabone, you and Ufalla will help me. I need you to bring the stretcher into the water. You will hold her above the water. I will make the cut then you will put her under the water and I will close her lung. Then when the wound has stopped bubbling we will bring her out of the water and she can be stitched closed."

Jabone nodded then watched as Taboro started undressing her. Jabone stopped him when he started to take off her pants. "No, don't. She'd be so embarrassed if she knew she was even half naked in front of everyone much less fully naked. Will it make a difference?"

Taboro looked at his madra and she nodded then smiled. "Jena used to be like that but she out grew it."

His mother smiled at her but said nothing.

"Taboro, could you leave your pants on as well?" Jabone asked. "Ufalla and I will leave ours on, and that way when I tell her about it when she wakes up, I won't have to lie and she won't be embarrassed."

Taboro nodded.

Jabone didn't know exactly what to expect. His heart was racing, and he felt sick to his stomach. Then his fadra was at his shoulder he whispered in his ear, "Your madra believes in Taboro's skill. If you want to be safe follow the man who bears the most scars. Trust your madra. Jabone. I would have been dead had I not trusted in her. We are all here for you no matter what happens."

Jabone looked at him and nodded. He felt stronger, more certain, and he didn't analyze it. He and Ufalla carried Kasiria into the water and Taboro and his mother followed them in he realized then that his mother was going to help Taboro and saw with a smile that she wore all her clothes in. She smiled back at him and said, "I still don't like being naked in groups, you know that."

Taboro stood on one side of Kasiria and his mother stood on the other and he and Ufalla were holding the stretcher with Kasiria on it above the water.

Taboro poked at the wound a couple of times on the outside and then he put his finger inside and poked around. Jabone would have sworn he could feel it in his own chest.

"What are you doing to her?" he demanded.

"Quiet, Jabone. He knows what he's doing. He has to check to make sure all her organs are out of the way of where he'll be cutting," his mother said gently.

"And I have to see how much is damaged and how much room I'm going to need to work," Taboro said. "It's all right, Jena. I can tell him what I'm doing as I do it if he wants to know. Some people want to know what you're doing. Others would just as soon," he stopped, moving his finger to the side obviously pushing on something inside Kasiria's body 'til it made a popping sound, "not know. Just getting that rib out of the way."

When his stomach began to turn Jabone almost admitted he was one of those people who'd rather not know except he did want to know, needed to. He looked at his fadra and madra standing together on the side of the pool, their faces masks of calm, and he took strength from them.

Taboro looked at Jena then and drew a line across Kasiria's chest with his finger. "I'll be cutting here." His mother nodded and put her hands on either side of where he had indicated. Then he pulled a sharp knife from a sheath he had put on the stretcher next to Kasiria. "And now we start to cut." Jabone noticed his mother pushed on either side to help with the cutting and thought of butchering meat. He swallowed hard and steeled himself. The cut bled but not badly and Taboro said to Jestia who also stood beside the pool, "Nice spell. Makes it very easy to work."

"Thanks," Jestia said.

"Now," Taboro said, "Jena if you will reach in and spread her ribs so that I can get in there."

And then his mother's fingers were in Kasiria's body and Jena was using all her strength to pull her ribs apart until he could see Kasiria's insides. He had to look away.

"Brave heart Jabone," his madra called from the bank of the pool.

He just nodded and was reminded briefly of her coaching him as he fought what seemed like a lifetime ago.

Taboro took a small piece of polished bamboo from the stretcher then said, "All right Ufalla, Jabone, put her into the water so that the wound is just under the surface and of course so that her head isn't." They did and his mother never quit holding the wound open. The wound was bubbling so much that the water at the surface looked like it was boiling. Then Taboro put one hand into the opening. "I have to pinch the wound in the lung closed and hope the waters will heal it closed immediately, but first I have to blow it up." He took his other hand with the bamboo in it and stuck it into Kasiria's body and then he blew gently into it. At the same time he was obviously doing something in her body with his other hand. Then he drew out the bamboo, threw it away, made one more movement with his other hand and drew it out, too.

"All right Jena," Taboro said, and Jena let go washing her hands in the water which was growing red and then clearing almost instantly. "And now we wait to see if we have sealed the hole." In a few minutes the water stopped bubbling and Taboro smiled at him. "And we have. The lung is sealed. And now you take her out of the water and put her on the table."

Jabone and Ufalla carried Kasiria out of the water and set her down on the table. When he saw the gapping wound where the small one had been he didn't think this could actually be better, but then he saw that the right side of Kasiria's chest was moving for the first time in days. His mother and Ufalla were drying Kasiria off and then covering her wet pants with a blanket. Taboro dryed himself off and then he walked over and put his hand in the wound again and again Jabone could hear that awful popping sound.

"The Katabull when we change, our chest expands. For this reason our ribs can be popped both into and out of place quite easily. It makes us easier to work on than humans. We popped them out of place and now we have popped them back in," he explained.

Jabone just nodded.

Meanwhile, his mother had threaded a needle. When Taboro had finished putting Kasiria's ribs back in place it was his mother who started sewing the wound back together, sewing her flesh just like she had sewed his shirts. With everything else she was, he often forgot that she was also a medic. As she was sewing Kasiria's wound closed she was teaching Ufalla who stood at her shoulder, watching. Jabone had medic's training, too, but not to the extent that Ufalla or young Tarius did. He knew just enough to be able to field dress a wound and to be really worried about everything that was happening with Kasiria.

"We have time," his mother told Ufalla, "and she's a beautiful girl, so you make smaller stitches. They are harder to pull when the time comes but heal more quickly and, like I said, they just make less of a mess."

All just part of a day's work
. Jabone tried to remember what his fadra had said concerning his mother,
That he sometimes thought my mother was the strongest person he knows, and he's right. I couldn't have done any of the things she just did, even if I had known how.
As if to drive this point home he felt his madra's hand on his shoulder and then a chair behind his knees as she guided him to sit. Then Jezel was pressing what he thought was a cup of water into his hands and he realized he was queasy and that he'd almost passed out.