The King approached, leaning in over the physician's shoulder. "But the report states his intestines were penetrated by the madgyics, that the bleeding could not be stemmed. And that was not but twenty hours ago." He turned to Earth. "You are certain this is the same man?"
"I know my patients," Colinae replied. "But until I've had more than a few grains pass through the glass and examine him, I can offer no more answers than you."
"And what of his own words?" The gruff voice of Gaoltea rumbled from the map table, where he stood scrutinizing a piece of parchment.
"I..." Earth hesitated. "I recall the farmstead, and the Madgyi. I killed him, but he cast a spell. Beyond that, I don’t know. I remember pain, but not much else.”
The Shadowsun’s gaze bore down on him. "Your platoon brought you back to the camp wrapped in bloody rags, all but lifeless. But your captain insisted that you still breathed. You were taken to the sicktent with all haste, as any soldier deserves to be. But…” He moved to a set of shelves behind the table, and retrieved the Madgyi's staff, “when your captain presented us with this, everything changed."
Colinae then spoke. "After I tended your wound, I was certain you would not survive. But I hoped you might awaken before the end. The Shadowsun intended to interrogate you if fortune allowed, so you were brought here. Except for this past hour, I have not left your side, and his highness has remained close by as well. It was evident that you not only breathed, but slumbered peacefully. Nonetheless, I could not have imagined..."
“He is one of them,” Acis spoke, his voice low. “He is a worm, faking his own death by fey madgyics to infiltrate us. And we have done him the greatest favor, bringing him here, to our heart of hearts.”
Gaoltea laughed, his booming voice filling the tent. “A fine trick, too! The boy has been with us since Elusa. Quite the ruse.”
The King’s expression firmed. “I am aware of the dangers, Acis. But I will not sacrifice a potential asset without cause. Earth’s officers say he has proved his mettle time over. If he is indeed what you fear, we shall deal with him accordingly.”
The assassin’s silver eyes narrowed. “Trustworthiness is the finest disguise for a liar,” he said as he bowed and left the tent. “I would know.”
Gaoltea followed suit.
“There is a storm brewing between those two,” Colinae said.
“I know it well,” the King replied, but he turned back to Earth. “You have been through much, little brother. But the trial is only begun. Colinae will examine to your wounds, and I will examine your mind. It goes without saying you must be true. The only trait I require of my trust is integrity.”
As the silence stretched between them, the King's gaze bore into Earth's. After a moment, he spoke again. "You are not the only one with secrets, Earth. Mine is this: I need your help. Will you give it?"
“Yes, your grace.” Earth took a deep breath. “I will do what I can.”
“Good.” the Shadowsun stepped close to Earth. “Then let us begin, Earth. That is a good name, little brother. Earth, tell me everything that you remember about this.” He raised the Madgyi’s stave, inspecting it with a keen eye.
“It was dark, ” he began. “But I knew something was inside.”Earth recounted the events in the cottage, his memory vivid. The acrid residue of sulfur. The CRACK! The red flash. As he spoke, the King ran his hands over the strange weapon, tracing its details.
Suddenly, a small compartment opened with a metallic CLINK!, spilling three spheres onto the ground. All three men gasped for breath and froze, expecting a trap, or an explosion. But it never came. The physician stooped to pick up one of the spheres.
"I do not know this alloy," he said. "But if I am not much mistaken, then it was a sphere such as this which caused your injury, Earth. The size is certainly refractive.”
The King picked up a sphere for himself, studying it closely under a near lamp. He then turned his attention back to Earth. “And how long, do you think, was the time between these loud cracks you spoke of, the ones accompanying the red light?"
Earth furrowed his brow. "It’s hard to say, your grace. Things moved so fast, but time itself was standing still. Certainly, not more than a brief moment."
The King pressed him, "How many cracks did you hear again?”
"Two. No, three," Earth replied. "One when I pushed Macrema from the door, one when I dove inside, and the third when I struck the Madgyi."
“There will be signs!” exclaimed the King. He tossed the sphere and caught it with a certain swipe, hand gripped in a fist of determination as he rose up. “Another platoon must be sent to the farmstead at once. If this is true…” He grinned at Colinae and winked at Earth. “I am not mistaken, am I?”
“Your grace, about what?” Colinae’s face pinched as he focused.
“About holes left by the madgyics,” Earth said. “I think you are right, your grace.”
“Your grace,” Colinae stepped between them as he interjected. “About tonight, I do not like the plan.”
“Nor do I,” agreed the King. “That is why we meet to discuss it. You will be in attendance.”
“It is not the place of a mere physician,” Colinae protested. “My peculiar accounting of knowledge cannot accept some of your other allowances.”
“Your place is where I tell you it is,” the King raised his voice, but only an edge. “A keen mind is no more monopolized by generals, shadows and prophets than by doctors. You will be there to tell us what you find of Earth’s recovery, as well as share your advice regarding the plan.”
The King smiled, but Colinae still looked pouty. “My friend, do what you can. I will see to the search for the madgyics’ holes.” He he opened the tent flap to peer outside and the afternoon daylight flooded in. “It remains in the hands of the Forgotten. Whether he be hidden to hear our prayer or not there at all, there is a time to hasten.”
The flap fall shut behind him.
“He will not listen to me,” Colinae said, looking down at Earth with pain etched on his face. He brought forth a damp cloth and began cleaning the caked blood away from Earth’s chest.
“You’ve been honored,” Earth reminded him. “Invited to the King’s own council.”
“Yes,” the physician acknowledged. “And he will ask you too.” He finished with the damp cloth he held and walked away to wring it out in a basin.“But what are you? A lucky boy stumbling upon fate? Not likely. What can you possibly know or do? Our King has the greatest general of our age, the finest assassin to ever walk the earth, three scholars of ancient lore on his council.”
The doctor ducked his head as he complained, coming back with the newly dampened cloth. “He also has a high priest of the Forgotten, a hermit with the strictest commitments a treasurer-savant who can barely speak but never makes a mistake, and his Mastermith at Arms, as if that weren’t enough. If there is anything more to be thought of, these marvels have all already thought it to death.” His fingers brushed against the smooth, unblemished skin where the hole in his abdomen had been. “What can a boy from the sticks or an exhausted physician do?”
The physician's words stung as much as any wound.
To be continued…