Dreamsnake

“I want neither his love nor your medicines. Neither can help me.”

Her fists clenched, Snake followed Gabriel.

The young man was sitting in the tower room, facing the window, leaning against the step formed by upper and lower levels. Snake sat beside him.

“He doesn’t mean the things he says.” Gabriel’s voice was strained and humiliated. “He really—” He leaned forward with his face in his hands, sobbing. Snake put her arms around him and tried to comfort him, holding him, patting his strong shoulders and stroking his soft hair. Whatever the source of the animosity the mayor felt, Snake was certain it did not arise from hatred or jealousy in Gabriel.

He wiped his face on his sleeve. “Thanks,” he said. “I’m sorry. When he gets like that…”

“Gabriel, does your father have a history of instability?”

For a moment Gabriel looked mystified. Abruptly he laughed, but with bitterness.

“In his mind, you mean? No, he’s quite sane. It’s a personal matter between us. I suppose…” Gabriel hesitated. “Sometimes he must wish I had died, so he could adopt a more suitable eldest child, or father one himself. But he won’t even partner again. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I do sometimes wish he were dead too.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I don’t want to.”

“I don’t believe it at all.”

He looked at her, with the faint and tentative beginnings of what Snake thought would be an absolutely radiant smile, but sobered again. “What will happen if nothing is done?”

“He’ll be unconscious in a day or so. Then—by then the choice will be to cut off his leg against his will, or let him die.”

“Can’t you treat him now? Without his consent?”

She wished she could give him an answer he would like better. “Gabriel, this isn’t an easy thing to say, but if he lost consciousness still telling me to do nothing, I’d have to let him die. You say yourself he’s rational. I have no right to go against his desires. No matter how stupid and wasteful they are.”

“But you could save his life.”

“Yes. But it’s his life.”

Gabriel rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, an exhausted gesture. “I’ll talk to him again.”

Snake followed him to his father’s rooms, but agreed to stay outside when Gabriel went in. The young man had courage. Whatever his failings in his father’s eyes—and apparently in his own—he did have courage. Yet perhaps on another level cowardice was not altogether absent, or why did he stay here and allow himself to be abused? Snake could not imagine herself remaining in this situation. She had thought her ties with other healers, her family, were as strong as relationships could be, but perhaps blood ties were even more compelling.

Snake felt not at all guilty about listening to the conversation.

“I want you to let her help you, father.”

“No one can help me. Not any more.”

“You’re only forty-nine. Someone might come along you could feel about the way you felt about mother.”

“You hold your tongue about your mother.”

“No, not any more. I never knew her but half of me is her. I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you. I’ve made up my mind to leave here. After a few months you can say—no—in a few months a messenger will come and tell you I’m dead, and you’ll never have to know if it isn’t true.”

The mayor did not answer.

“What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry I didn’t leave sooner? All right—I am.”

“That’s one thing you’ve never done to me,” Gabriel’s father said. “You’re stubborn and you’re insolent, but you’ve never lied to me before.”

Silence stretched on. Snake was about to go in when Gabriel spoke again.

“I hoped I might redeem myself. I thought if I could make myself useful enough—”

“I have to think of the family,” the mayor said. “And the town. Whatever happened you’d always be my firstborn, even if you weren’t my only child. I couldn’t disavow you without humiliating you in public.”

Snake was surprised to hear compassion in the harsh voice.

“I know. I understand that now. But it won’t do any good if you die.”

“Will you keep to your plan?”

“I swear it,” Gabriel said.

“All right. Let the healer in.”

If Snake had not taken an oath to help the injured and the sick, she might have left the castle right then. She had never heard such calm and reasoned rejection, and this was between a parent and a child—

Gabriel came to the doorway, and Snake entered the bedroom in silence.

“I’ve changed my mind,” the mayor said. And then, as if he realized how arrogant he sounded, “If you would still consent to treat me.”

“I will,” Snake said shortly, and left the room.

Gabriel followed her, worried. “Is something wrong? You haven’t changed your mind?”

Gabriel seemed calm and unhurt. Snake stopped. “I promised to help him. I will help him. I need a room and a few hours before I can treat his leg.”

“We’ll give you anything you ask.”