Storm Breaking

Karal could not help but show his surprise; a Healer among the Swordsworn? Chagren saw his expression and chuckled.

'Given our task of serving as the Guardians of the Plains, does it not seem logical that we must need a Healer now and again? I was a Healer before I was Sworn, and Swore myself in part because I was one of those who joined the battle with Ancar, and I vowed I would never again find myself unable to defend those who I had come to Heal. I petitioned. She accepted. Not all of us who come to serve Her so closely have tragic tales of great personal loss behind them.' Then his expression changed, becoming serious for a moment. 'Though there are many. Those who have seen too much to endure and remain sane often petition Her and are taken into Her ranks.'

Those who have seen too much to endure— Karal glanced involuntarily at An'desha, and Chagren followed his glance. He looked back down at Karal. 'Interesting. Your thoughts on that one?'

Karal blinked at the Shin'a'in's directness. 'I sometimes wonder if there is any place for An'desha, after all he has endured.'

Chagren lost that amused smile entirely, and his eyelids dropped momentarily to veil his eyes. 'There is,' he said after a pause, 'if he chooses to take it. Among us there is no tale so strange that we cannot encompass it. Not among the Swordsworn, I think. but among the Wise, those who wear the blue of the night sky and the day's ending. They are Sworn to Wisdom rather than the Sword, and I think it is among their numbers he would feel he has come home. But that is for him to decide.'

The smile returned. 'Meanwhile, it is for me to ease some of your discomfort, while my fellows bring the wherewithal to make this into a home for as long as may be. So. You have been Healed before?'

'Not really,' Karal confessed. 'The one Valdemaran Healer I saw decided that all I needed was herbs and potions, not real Healing.'

'A wise Healer knows when to Heal and when to let time do the Healing,' Chagren replied with approval. 'Well then; this time you shall be the recipient of true Healing, such as, I believe, some of your Sun-priests are known to practice. I require of you only that you close your eyes and relax, and that when you sense my spirit, permit it to touch yours. That should be easy enough, yes?

'I think so,' Karal replied as the headache returned with a vengeance. Any reluctance he might have felt vanished at the onslaught of further pain. He closed his eyes as instructed, and waited, slowly willing each muscle to release its built-up tension.

The moment he 'sensed Chagren's spirit' he knew exactly what the Shin'a'in had meant; he felt something very akin to the sensation he had when he first communicated with Florian. And as he had when Florian had requested that Karal 'let him into his mind,' he let down those internal barriers he hadn't realized existed back when he had been plain Karal of Karse.

But this time, instead of thoughts and sensations flooding into his mind, a warm, soothing wave washed over him, and where it had passed, the pain was gone, leaving behind comfort and reassurance.

He opened his eyes; he thought it was only a moment later, but Chagren was gone. In his place stood a metal pitcher and cup, and in his chamber and the rooms beyond, new comforts and a few new figures had appeared as if conjured.

There was a small cast-metal stove at his feet, and he had been heaped with more woven blankets. Several long, flat cushions arranged like a more comfortable bed than the one he currently occupied lay beside that. On top of the stove, there was a steaming pot.

Beyond his room, he saw at least one more stove and reckoned that there were probably more. Better bedding had appeared, and more amenities. Firesong appeared and glanced in the door to his chamber, and when the mage saw that he was awake, the Hawkbrother walked unhurriedly and gracefully to his side.

'You've been asleep through all the excitement,' Firesong told him. 'More of those Kal'enedral appeared with a veritable caravan of goods, and this place is now almost civilized.' He smiled, and there was no mistaking the fact that he was pleased. 'They even promised none of us will have to cook anymore, though we will still have to do the work of hertasi, I fear. That is just as well, since I do not believe I could have eaten another of my own meals, even if I died of starvation.'

Karal croaked a chuckle, and discovered to his delight that it did not make his head hurt. 'My headache is gone!' he exclaimed with glee.

Firesong nodded. 'That fellow Chagren said it would be. I will probably be helping him the next time he Heals you. He told me what had caused your aching skull, and once he explained it to me, it was obvious—' He held up a hand, forestalling Karal's questions. '—and I will explain it all to you in detail, some time later, when we have the time for me to explain how and why a mage or a Healer is able to do what he does. Suffice it for now to say that you have misused that part of you that channels magic, as if you had bruised it by battering a rough stone around inside your skull, and that was why your head hurt. He was able to take care of the bruises, so to speak.'

Karal tried to lever himself up, and found to his profound disappointment that he was still as weak as a newborn colt. 'Too bad I'm not completely back to normal, but I suppose Chagren can't Heal everything at once,' he answered with a sigh, as Firesong caught his elbow to help him.