Clandestine circle

“It’s getting late,” the commander observed. “If you wait for him to finish, you could be here for several days.”

A glance out the window showed Linsha he was right. The shadows had grown quite long since she sat down, and the sun was settling low in the western sky. She rubbed her forehead. She had obviously slept longer than she thought.

Commander Durne studied her pale face and remembered the state of his body after the dwarf healed his head injury. The mystic healing sped up the process of recovery nicely, but the body still had to recover from the shock of injury and blood loss. He made up his mind. “We were going back to the palace. Pack your books, Master Dwarf, and we will ride with you to the temple.”

Mica recognized an order when he heard it. Reluctantly he closed the book he was reading and piled the four together. He and the guards wrapped the volumes in blankets and bundled them together with rope. They loaded the books on the back of Mica’s horse. When they were finished, Linsha closed the shutters in the shop window, bade a silent farewell to the dead priest, and pulled the door shut behind her.

In a group, the guards and the healer rode back to Ship-maker’s Road and turned east toward the city gates and inner Sanction. They saw very few people. The sick lay in their beds and ranted and died in the frightful heat; the well stayed indoors, either hiding or caring for their loved ones. The harbor and the city lay in a stupor of late afternoon heat and malaise that showed no sign of relenting.

At this rate, Linsha thought, the city would be easy pickings for the first enemy who dared risk Lord Bight’s wrath. She sighed.

Commander Durne heard her and turned his head to see her. He slowed his stallion until Windcatcher walked by his side. “What are you thinking?” he asked softly.

Linsha liked his voice. She liked his nearness and the way he spoke to her as if he genuinely wanted to know what was on her mind. She couldn’t imagine that a man like him would be interested in a sell-sword with Lynn’s dubious history, and yet his eyes devoured her and the vein in his neck seemed to throb with the same nervous pounding hers had.

“I was thinking that Sanction is dying,” she finally answered. “If this plague doesn’t ease off soon, it will decimate the entire population and leave the city vulnerable to attack. I’m not sure even Lord Bight has the strength to defend Sanction alone… if he survives.”

“I hope the plague doesn’t last that long!” he said fervently. “But you’re right to worry. The City Guards have been hit hard, particularly those who patrolled the harbor district, and the plague is spreading through the eastern guard camp.” He paused and glanced at her thoughtfully. “Did Mica find anything in the records he was so anxious to read?”

“I don’t think so. They’re from a temple in Sanction. I can’t imagine that they will include anything from as far away as Kalaman.”

Commander Durne surprised her by visibly starting. The movement was spontaneous and immediately controlled, so she wasn’t certain what she had seen in his face. Did he already know about the earlier outbreak? No, how could he? Surely he would have told Mica or Lord Bight. She was just letting her suspicious nature read more into this than was there.

“What does Kalaman have to do with this?” he asked, his voice faintly curious.

“We learned there was an earlier plague there that was similar to this one,” she answered.

“Where did you hear that?”

Linsha made it a policy never to reveal her sources unless directly ordered. “From an old resident who was ill.”

“Was this resident lucid at the time?”

Linsha pretended to study the stone flagging beneath Windcatcher’s hooves. She heard a note in his voice she could not clearly identify. Was it excitement or alarm? “I don’t know. Seemed lucid enough, but you know how fevers can affect people. It seemed a good lead at the time.”

“What did Mica make of this lead?” Durne persisted.

“Very little. He doesn’t hold out much hope of finding something useful.” She shook her head, trying to be tolerant. “But then he doesn’t hold out much hope for anything. Especially me.”

Durne chuckled. “Nor any of us. Mica is a superb healer, but he cares more for the process than the patients.” He shot a look over his shoulder to the dwarf, who rode silently at the end of the group. Mica’s eyes were elsewhere, his.thoughts probably lost somewhere in the text he had read. Durne leaned slightly closer to Linsha and lowered his voice. “Watch your back around him, Lynn. Lord Bight is not entirely certain of his loyalties.”