The Heavenly Host

Hilda made her way back towards the inn. She had sent Danyel ahead about an hour ago to prepare her a bubble bath and collect some strawberries, chocolate and sparkling wine from the inn’s tavern before the kitchen closed. It had been a rather lengthy and trying day. What with the ball viewing in Tierhallon, brunch with Trisfelt and strategizing, a round with her various patients in the palace and then a long dinner with Trisfelt, Gandros, Damien, Lenamare and Jehenna, she was feeling a tad worn. Dinner with the two schoolmasters was not a trivial task; however, the presence of the head of the Council and the Chief Inquisitor had them on slightly better behavior.

She was pleased to be making connections with other members of the Council. Such inroads were critical for maintaining her vantage point and access to critical information. Hilda smiled to herself. If she really were an animage healer, these would be invaluable business connections. She grinned more widely, suddenly realizing that technically, they could be considered invaluable business connections for a spy — her current profession.

Amusement or not, it was taxing and she just wanted to get home and relax as soon as possible. Which was why, when she spotted an upturned cart and all sorts of commotion on the city street between her and the inn, she chose to take a series of side streets, more like alleys. She had explored them briefly in the daytime; rather dank and dark even in broad daylight. Certainly not a great route for a woman alone in the middle of the night. However, being previously deceased, she really did not have much to fear. It was rather hard to kill someone who had been dead for centuries and who could heal any wounds within moments. She chuckled to herself at that.

Naturally, because she had bothered to entertain such thoughts, it was not at all unexpected when a dark shadow rose in front of her within no more than a minute. She supposed it was almost de rigueur. By the sounds, another three people had also materialized behind her. Not in the way she could materialize when coming down from Tierhallon; these individuals had simply stepped out of the deep shadows of a large doorway on her left and another doorway on her right. The man in front of her had simply stepped out from behind a large canister of refuse.

Fortunately, she could see perfectly well in the dark and so realized instantly that it was beggars that were accosting her; although not, she suspected, in the manner typical of beggars. Hilda stopped before the man in front of her, noting a fifth man coming up behind him with one eye covered in a patch, pockmarked skin, poorly dressed and limping. The beggar in front of her had a hook for one hand and a crutch under his arm on the opposing side. One of the men behind her had a peg leg, by the sound it made on the stone cobbles. Another man behind her had some sort of condition that caused his breathing to sound mucus-filled and quite unpleasant. The third she could not tell.

Sternly yet politely, she asked the man in front of her, “Can I help you gentlemen?”

“You can stop screwing with people’s livelihoods, bitch,” the man growled at her.

Hilda blinked in the dark. “My, that seems to be poor manners for someone whom I suspect is about to make a request of me,” she said, shaking her head even as she began drawing in mana from both her illuminaries and from upstream in Tierhallon. She had a good idea where this was heading, so she needed to be prepared. “However, I am but a simple healer, so I have no idea what you are talking about. Now if you’d please excuse me, I’m tired and would like to get home.”

“You know damn well what we are talking about!” the main beggar snarled.

“You destroyed Rathbart’s career!” The man — no, woman — behind Hilda who was not rasping, nor peg-legged, said.

“I’m not sure about this Master Rathbart of whom you speak,” Hilda said pleasantly, stalling for time and preparing herself for what was about to come.

“One of our guildmates. You healed him! You took away his livelihood. No one is going to give money to a healthy, able-bodied beggar!” the peg-legged man behind her stated.

“So the beggar meister wanted us to talk to you,” the lead beggar stated.

“Hmm, I think I know this Master Rathbart of whom you speak. However, he came to me begging for aid, so I gave it to him in the manner I’m best suited to give. I am a professional healer, so I gave him his health,” Hilda said innocently. “Typically, I charge a fair amount for the services I provided him for free.”

“You ain’t stupid, lady; we can tell that by your speech. You know’d damn well you’d be hosing his ability to beg!” the main beggar told her angrily.