Tal.
That’s all Merkhud had asked and had Tor done that? No. Goron, Corlin and his thugs, Eryn, Cyrus, Cloot, Doctor Freyberg: six or more lives he had already touched with his magic having barely spent sunrise to sunrise in this city.
Freyberg’s voice cut into his thoughts. ‘There’s absolutely no use trying to dream up a plausible excuse. Just tell me how in the name of Light this man is alive today.’
Tor stood. Cloot’s tired eyes followed him.
‘It was me…I did this.’ Tor’s voice was flat. He was genuinely scared now, for his very life depended on how the doctor felt about the use of the power.
‘You’re sentient.’
It was not a question but Tor answered anyway.
‘Yes. I couldn’t just let him die.’
‘What am I going to do with you now, boy? You realise I’m under royal oath to turn you over to the Inquisitors?’
Freyberg turned angrily towards him. Tor remained silent.
‘Barbarians that they are!’ the doctor spat. ‘And is Physic Merkhud aware of your power, young man?’
Tor hesitated as he stepped onto perilous ground. ‘He is.’ He held his breath.
Cloot pretended to doze. Freyberg twisted his beard in a frenzy of troubled thoughts. The airless room was silent for a long time.
‘Right! If it’s good enough for the famous Merkhud, then who am I to interfere? I really have never appreciated what all the fuss is about the power and if you can do this for a broken man, just think of the good empowered people could do for the Kingdom!’
Dr Freyberg stood and stared hard at Tor. He felt almost sorry for the tall, handsome youth.
‘You mean you won’t be telling anyone about this?’
‘I will not.’
Tor took a step towards the doctor and awkwardly hugged the man his thanks.
Freyberg was solemn. ‘This is a wonderful but dangerous gift you have, son. You’ll have to be far more careful how you use it in future. The next person may not be as impressed as I.’
Tor nodded.
‘I must go, my boy. I have a long day of appointments but I’m worried about how you’ll explain away Mr Cloot’s miraculous recovery.’
‘I really hadn’t thought past trying to save his life but I’ll think of something,’ Tor said, raking his hair with his fingers.
‘Well, think quick, boy. The innkeeper here is a notorious gossip. It will be around this city like wildfire. My best advice is for you to get out of here immediately. Use the cover of night and get as far away from this town as you can.’
Freyberg left soon after and, as Cloot was asleep again, Tor headed downstairs and consumed an enormous breakfast. Whilst the woman laid out his food, she answered his query for directions to the famous Hatten public baths.
Feeling so much better for the food, and chewing on an apple, Tor meandered through the narrow lanes, enjoying the brightly painted colours of the tall walls and the bright washing hung on short poles from shuttered windows. He even kicked an inflated pig’s bladder around with some of the children and, just for a while, forgot he was anything more than a wide-eyed visitor to a big town.
Resuming his walk he continued until he came into a small square which he recognised from the ornate fountain the serving lass had described. He joined a short queue of men dropping coins into the hand of an old and bored-looking attendant, who duly handed them a piece of folded linen.
‘How much?’ Tor asked as he drew level with the attendant.
‘Well, handsome, for a peek at what hangs between your legs, I’ll let you in for free,’ cackled the crone. Tor noticed, with no little revulsion, she had not a tooth in her head. The hoots of laughter around them goaded her on.
‘Or come out the back wi’ me now, I’ll pay you instead!’ The hag found this especially amusing and Tor was again treated to a full view of her aged gums.
A young man pushed past him. ‘It’s two bits.’ He flashed a smile.
Tor dropped the coins into her grimy palm. He snatched the towel and
That’s all Merkhud had asked and had Tor done that? No. Goron, Corlin and his thugs, Eryn, Cyrus, Cloot, Doctor Freyberg: six or more lives he had already touched with his magic having barely spent sunrise to sunrise in this city.
Freyberg’s voice cut into his thoughts. ‘There’s absolutely no use trying to dream up a plausible excuse. Just tell me how in the name of Light this man is alive today.’
Tor stood. Cloot’s tired eyes followed him.
‘It was me…I did this.’ Tor’s voice was flat. He was genuinely scared now, for his very life depended on how the doctor felt about the use of the power.
‘You’re sentient.’
It was not a question but Tor answered anyway.
‘Yes. I couldn’t just let him die.’
‘What am I going to do with you now, boy? You realise I’m under royal oath to turn you over to the Inquisitors?’
Freyberg turned angrily towards him. Tor remained silent.
‘Barbarians that they are!’ the doctor spat. ‘And is Physic Merkhud aware of your power, young man?’
Tor hesitated as he stepped onto perilous ground. ‘He is.’ He held his breath.
Cloot pretended to doze. Freyberg twisted his beard in a frenzy of troubled thoughts. The airless room was silent for a long time.
‘Right! If it’s good enough for the famous Merkhud, then who am I to interfere? I really have never appreciated what all the fuss is about the power and if you can do this for a broken man, just think of the good empowered people could do for the Kingdom!’
Dr Freyberg stood and stared hard at Tor. He felt almost sorry for the tall, handsome youth.
‘You mean you won’t be telling anyone about this?’
‘I will not.’
Tor took a step towards the doctor and awkwardly hugged the man his thanks.
Freyberg was solemn. ‘This is a wonderful but dangerous gift you have, son. You’ll have to be far more careful how you use it in future. The next person may not be as impressed as I.’
Tor nodded.
‘I must go, my boy. I have a long day of appointments but I’m worried about how you’ll explain away Mr Cloot’s miraculous recovery.’
‘I really hadn’t thought past trying to save his life but I’ll think of something,’ Tor said, raking his hair with his fingers.
‘Well, think quick, boy. The innkeeper here is a notorious gossip. It will be around this city like wildfire. My best advice is for you to get out of here immediately. Use the cover of night and get as far away from this town as you can.’
Freyberg left soon after and, as Cloot was asleep again, Tor headed downstairs and consumed an enormous breakfast. Whilst the woman laid out his food, she answered his query for directions to the famous Hatten public baths.
Feeling so much better for the food, and chewing on an apple, Tor meandered through the narrow lanes, enjoying the brightly painted colours of the tall walls and the bright washing hung on short poles from shuttered windows. He even kicked an inflated pig’s bladder around with some of the children and, just for a while, forgot he was anything more than a wide-eyed visitor to a big town.
Resuming his walk he continued until he came into a small square which he recognised from the ornate fountain the serving lass had described. He joined a short queue of men dropping coins into the hand of an old and bored-looking attendant, who duly handed them a piece of folded linen.
‘How much?’ Tor asked as he drew level with the attendant.
‘Well, handsome, for a peek at what hangs between your legs, I’ll let you in for free,’ cackled the crone. Tor noticed, with no little revulsion, she had not a tooth in her head. The hoots of laughter around them goaded her on.
‘Or come out the back wi’ me now, I’ll pay you instead!’ The hag found this especially amusing and Tor was again treated to a full view of her aged gums.
A young man pushed past him. ‘It’s two bits.’ He flashed a smile.
Tor dropped the coins into her grimy palm. He snatched the towel and
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