posted on Apr, 6 2017 @ 04:05 PM
51 - The Seeress' Secret, part 2
“Tell me what happened to her, Seer Ethenral,” she said quietly.
“We are not certain, Seeress. She refuses to talk. I believe she was, ah, assaulted, but of course we don’t know any of the circumstances.”
Siere approached the girl slowly, and began speaking too softly for Gaalen to hear, nodding to herself. He surveyed the sparse room quickly – a
simple cot, two chairs, a small table, an iron brazier, and one window – open to one of the courtyards – that let in a fair amount of light.
Across from the window was a small closet. He brought his attention back to Siere and the girl.
“Seer Ethenral, how did you get her in here?” Gaalen inquired.
“She was unconscious when we found her. When she woke up here in the room she gave Melann his black eye, there, and kicked Jystanaean in the, ah,”
he glanced at Siere.
“Understood, Seer,” Gaalen bailed the Seer out with a sympathetic wince for the boy.
Still speaking quietly, Siere had knelt down next to the girl, who shrank from her. It seemed she was trying to melt into the corner of the room.
Siere reached an arm up to place it on her shoulder and the girl shrieked. In a flash she had the slender Seeress knocked to the flagstones and
pinned, where she swiped and pummeled at Siere’s face.
Gaalen flew across the room and pulled the girl off of Siere. She twisted and turned her attack on him, snarling at him in rage and defiance. She
scrabbled on the floor, kicking at his shins and trying to twist away. He got a good look at her face now, despite her unbound hair flying everywhere
with her thrashing. She had been beaten, one eye swollen shut, cuts on cheeks, temple, and lips that were still bleeding, and everywhere purple. He
wrestled her into a hold designed to keep her still, and felt a twinge in his kir. The girl had tried to Compel him! His temper rose.
“Do not hurt her, Lord Braeghe!” Siere commanded, climbing to her feet.
Irritated and unsure exactly what to do, Gaalen, released his hold on the girl, who retreated into the corner and once again curled into a ball,
A red welt and several scratches now decorated Siere’s face and neck. She gave them no notice, and approached the girl cautiously again. She pulled
the hood of her cloak up and knelt, then folded her hands in her lap, facing the scraggly young woman. Gaalen remained ready to intercept if she
“Seer, please have your acolytes wait just outside. We will need them shortly.”
The boys left and a hush descended on the room. Gaalen suspected she was using her power. It gave him the chills, being in the same room with it.
Slowly the girl began to relax, not looking quite so wild. Siere’s breathing became faster and shallow, and her head sank forward slightly. At first
he thought it was a trick of the light, that the girl looked better. But as the minutes wore on, he became certain of it – the bruises on her arms
were fading, her breathing became slower, more relaxed, and she stopped rocking.
After a time, she let her knees down, and just sat in the corner. It appeared to Gaalen that the girl’s eyelids became heavy, and sure enough she
eventually rested her head back into the corner. Gaalen could see her chest rise and fall in the slow, deep breaths of sleep. The bruises, cuts, and
welts were all but gone.
Siere’s breathing had become labored as if with exertion though, and her hair was falling out of her hood, obscuring her face. Eventually she
gasped, and swayed forward, catching herself with her hands on the floor. For a moment she remained that way, her chest heaving; then she knelt back
and pulled her hood farther down. Gaalen moved over toward her.
“I have done what I can. Lord Braeghe, would you help me up please?” she asked him, her voice low and thick with exhaustion. He offered his arm to
her, but as she slowly rose he realized he was doing most of the lifting. He slipped his arm around her to support her better.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He had no idea it took so much out of a person. It seemed she flinched when he all but carried her to the corner of the cot.
“Seer, please have your acolytes take her home. She will recover better in her own bed. See she is given as much food and water as she wishes when
she wakes, for at least three days. Instruct her family not to speak of this to her until I can visit them.”
Ethenral hesitated, fidgeting. “Seeress, the girl is a,” he hesitated, “a child of the street.”
“You do not know where she is from?”
“No, Seeress, the lad Aertan found her east of the Temple, while returning from an errand. It is believed she is an urchin.”
“Her dress is too fine for that. If she is an urchin, she hasn’t been one for long. Perhaps she is a runaway,” Gaalen offered.
“She is neither a runaway, nor an urchin. But that can wait. She must be given a safe place to rest.”
“Here,” Gaalen said, surprising himself. He moved to the table a scrawled a quick note, folded it and sealed it with some white wax from the
candle. Then he pressed his signet into it, and handed it to one of the acolytes. “Take her and this note to the Bastion. Tell the guards at each
gate you have a message for Squire Joen from Lord Braeghe, and show them that seal. Tell Joen the girl is under my protection and is to be taken to
Lady Commander Kaena Milaener. I will call upon the Lady Commander this evening. Do you understand?” The acolyte bobbed his head nervously, taking
“Very well,” Siere said hoarsely. “The rest of you, please give me some privacy. I must rest.” Her head hung low, dark hair hiding her face.
The acolytes transferred the sleeping girl onto a litter and headed out of the room.