Into Darkness

27

When Richard woke, there was daylight streaming in through a small window. He was about to sit up when he realized that he didn’t have any clothes on. When he looked down, he saw that there was at least a towel covering his groin.

He sniffed the air, seeming to recognize an aroma, trying to place it. Finally, he remembered. It was the smell of an aum plant, something from back in his home of Hartland. It seemed like forever since he had smelled it. It was a difficult plant to find, but Zedd had taught him where to look for it. It usually grew in the deep shade of the forest under a nannyberry tree, which was easier to find first because of its thick crop of dark blue berries.

He reached up and pulled something wet off his head and held it out to look at it. It was a big leaf from an aum plant that had been crushed to make it pliable and conform to the contours of his head. That was what he had smelled. Aum both eased pain and, importantly, helped wounds to heal quickly.

Vika shot to her feet when she saw that he was awake.

“He’s awake,” she called out to the old woman.

The old woman turned away from what she was doing at a table against the wall and smiled down at him. “There you are. You are looking much better.”

The room with stone walls wasn’t large, but it was filled with tables, a long stone bench against one wall, and standing cabinets all across another wall.

The old woman picked up a stone bowl from one of the tables. She used the pestle in the bowl to crush and stir the contents, then tapped it on the side, removed it, and set it aside. She came close and lifted his head as she put the bowl to his mouth.

“Drink this. It will help you to clear your head.”

Richard glanced at Vika. She gave him a reassuring nod, so he drank it. It had some pungent herbs in it, but it mostly tasted of honey diluted in tea.

When he was finished, she patted his shoulder. “I’ll go get the others.”

Shortly after the woman left, the rest of the Mord-Sith rushed into the room.

“Lord Rahl!” Berdine squealed. “You look so much better!”

Richard squinted up at the faces leaning in, looking at him. “Where are my clothes?”

“Your clothes?” Cassia asked.

“Yes, my clothes.”

Nyda gestured. “They’re over there. They were positively filthy with all that stone dust and dirt, so we had to wash them.”

Richard frowned up at the faces leaning in over him. “Well, who took them off me?”

The faces all smiled.

Richard rolled his eyes.

“You were really dirty, too, from all that dirt and grime,” Berdine said. She grinned. “So we had to wash you, too.”

Richard could feel his face turning red.

The old woman rushed back in with half a dozen more old women, all of them in similar long, dark dresses with ample skirts. Richard was glad to have them interrupt the Mord-Sith.

The original woman who had given him the drink held her hand out to the others. “Lord Rahl, we are Bindamoon healers. We have all been seeing to your care. I’m Rita.”

“So you have been healing me?”

“We all worked on you,” Rita confirmed. “You were seriously hurt.”

She lifted the stack of aum leaves off his forehead, to the side, to have a look. She turned briefly to allow the others to have a look at the wound on his head. They all seemed pleased. Rita laid the moist aum back down, patting it gently into place so it would be in contact with the wound.

He realized, then, that there were poultices in several places on his legs and a big patch of aum on the left side of his ribs. It was a pale yellow, similar to the poultice Zedd used to make, but it had a different smell.

“You’re lucky to have been injured here, in Bindamoon,” Rita said. “We grow some of the rarest herbs here, herbs very helpful for healing. Because of the herbs we have, people come to Bindamoon to be healed. Some we can help, some we cannot.”

“Aum is hard to find back where I come from,” he said. “You mean you actually grow it?”

Her brow lifted in surprise. “You know of aum?”

Richard nodded. “My grandfather taught me about it, and how to find it.”

“Well, no trouble finding it here,” she said with a smile. “It’s a valuable medicinal plant, so we grow rows of it.” She turned a little and pointed. “We use fresh when we can, and we tie the plants up by their stems and hang them up in drying sheds, over there, until they are cured for when it is out of season. We trade most of it to help support our town and use some of it for people who come here to be healed. You are in one of our healing houses where we tend to people.”

Richard looked around and saw a variety of jars and canisters, along with a number of washbasins as well as a half-dozen lanterns on a well-worn, heavy wooden table supplementing the light from the small window. There were shelves under the cabinets with smaller bottles neatly lined up.

“How long have I been asleep?” he asked.

She let out a concerned sigh. “You were brought here two nights ago. Because of your injuries, we had to give you some things to keep you asleep. With so many wounds we feared infection. Some of the herbs we use work better when the person is sleeping. The medicated sleep helped you get over the worst of your injuries. They are now all nicely on the mend. Especially your nasty head wound. We couldn’t be sure everything inside was all right until you woke, but we can now see that your eyes are clear and you don’t appear dizzy.”

“I truly appreciate your help,” Richard told her. “But I really need to search for the Mother Confessor. She was—”

“I’m afraid she’s gone,” Vika told him. “The people told me that all the witches left with her.”

Richard blinked. “Left with her?”

“On horses,” Vika confirmed.

Richard looked up at Rita. “You have horses here?”

She gestured with gnarled fingers. “Over on this side of the road, opposite from where the palace once stood, there are stables—the queen’s stables. The witch women all left and took the Mother Confessor with them.”

Richard sat up in a rush, holding the towel over himself. “She’s alive then?”

“Yes,” Cassia said. “But we learned that they left with her that first night.”

Richard put a hand to his head, trying to calculate how long it had been since he and Shota had their battle. “How long ago? How long have I been asleep, or unconscious … how long have they been gone?”

The Mord-Sith shared sidelong glances.

Vika’s expression revealed her worry. “Quite a while, now, I’m afraid.”

Richard stood, still holding the small towel in front of himself. “How long is ‘quite a while’?”

“Altogether it’s been over five days since they left,” Vika said.