Sixty: Sickness

"Have you got bandages over here?"

Lin shuffled over to Dela's station at a young woman's bedside and rummaged in her supplies. Dela readjusted the cool cloths on her patient's hands and forehead and plucked the bandages from the pocket of her robe. "Here."

"I'm cold," the woman croaked, though when Dela set a hand to her forehead it was burning with fever. She tucked the blanket up around the woman's chest and stood to find her some water. Lin shadowed her as she headed for the barrel in the corner of the shelter's main floor.

"I can't feel my feet," Lin mumbled. "And everything hurts like I'm old before my time."

"Same," Dela admitted. She didn't think she could spend much longer sitting in the hard wooden chairs by the bedsides before it started causing permanent damage. She had lost track of how long ago they had arrived; the shutters were closed against the chill. She felt that it had been many hours since an acolyte from the class above had shaken her awake in her cell and tersely explained the situation – that a sickness had infected the neighbourhoods surrounding the flood site, and the shelters were full to bursting. Once again the Kelians were expected to offer aid to the struggling Medicas.

"Where are Orthan in all this anyway?" Lin returned from running the bandages to a Sister and helped herself to safe water from the barrel. "I haven't seen a single one of them in any shelters. I even saw Nict giving handouts in the market square last eighthday, and Nict barely has any money."

Not that they declared anyway, Dela thought to herself. Her father had always had a healthy suspicion of Nict, and Dela had never seen anything to suggest it was unwarranted. But the total absence of the wealthiest House in Nictaven in recovery efforts was altogether more suspect. Dela knew that Lord Harkenn held their Head of House-to-be prisoner on accusations of treason and had failed to get a confession, but she didn't think that was any reason to let normal civilians suffer for it. Perhaps having so much wealth did strange things to the mind.

"No one knows." She carried her water back to her previous station and continued speaking to Lin in low tones as she helped her patient to drink. The woman's eyes rolled in her head, and twice she choked and had to be mopped up. "No one will know until they see fit to tell us."

"Lin," Maniel's voice cut through the low murmur of noise in the room. "If you're free, we need a vigil."

They exchanged a look, and then Lin hurried off to answer the request. Most of the other girls were now sitting vigils, and most of those who weren't tended the deceased. Dela and several acolytes of other orders tended the living, moving among the beds as the Sisters of the Medica directed. The atmosphere was sombre, broken by cries of pain and delirium. It was a darker place that day than any preparation of the dead that Dela had been to. As she walked up the centre aisle, looking for another task, her fingers clasped the supplicating hands of Kiel which hung from a chain around her neck. Every acolyte in her class had received one, a sign that they were advancing in their learning. Under her robes hung the deer skull amulet Raklan had given her. She wondered if it was considered sacrilegious to carry symbols of two deities on her at all times, yet couldn't bring herself to take off the physical reminder of home.

When she found nothing that she was needed for immediately, she left the sick room and headed down the stairs to take some air for a moment. The room was stuffy with trapped heat and the stink of illness; her senses began to clear even as she descended, as a chill draught entered the foyer. She stepped out into the street with a sigh of relief, feeling more alert as cold wind chivvied at the hem of her robe.

"There's nothing more draining on the soul than watching people die despite your best efforts."

Dela hadn't seen the Unspoken until he spoke; she jumped, but managed to save her dignity and refrain from screaming.

"Apologies," Nika said. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Dela wasn't sure what he had expected would happen, while standing in the shadows dressed in unbroken black, but she shook her head. "It's fine. I just wasn't paying attention." She paused, studying him. "How do you manage to be at every shelter I work in?"

Nika laughed. "I assure you it's coincidence. I make regular rounds of all of them in the castle catchment. His Lordship pays me to report the efforts and help where I can."

"You're not too busy with demons?"

"Oh, I'm on patrols too." Nika sighed. "On top of everything else."

"You must be tired."

Nika only offered a strained chuckle in response.

They watched the street for a moment in companionable quiet. The city was slowly starting to pick itself back up after the rigours of the dark season, but the lack of food and supplies told on many faces. Dela herself had lost weight as the temple stores dwindled, but at least she was warm and secure each night – it was more than could be said by many in this part of the city whose homes the floodwaters had irreparably damaged. Reconstruction would not be possible until the streets dried out.

"Come inside and I'll brew some tea for everyone," Dela offered. "I'm sure you can spare five minutes of rest."

"I would be extremely grateful for that."

Nika followed her back inside. Dela was glad for the excuse to set herself apart from the unending misery and suffering for a few minutes – no one on duty would complain if she took the time to make them all something hot and restorative. The shelter had a small kitchen, in disarray from the hurried throwing-together of poultices and slops for patients. She located a kettle and set it over the neglected hearth fire, adding a couple more pieces of wood and stoking it up. Nika took down every cup in the cupboards and began spooning leaves into strainers.

"I always wonder that you don't seem as nervous around us as the others in your class," Nika said. Dela joined him at the counter.

"That's because people seem to think that possessing the aptitude for magic makes you something other than a person," Dela replied. "It's a trait and a skill like any other trait or skill." She grinned. "Perhaps they're just jealous that you lead more interesting lives than they do."

Nika laughed. "Interesting is certainly a word you could use. Exhausting is another."

"Do you wish it hadn't happened to you?"

"No," Nika said immediately. "My life would have been much worse without it. I have met the best people I have ever known because of it and I wouldn't trade this life for anything."

"Were you young, when it happened?"

"I was into my twenties, if you would call that young."

"Does it ever pick older adults?"

"Of course. There's no pattern to who it chooses, at least none that anyone has ever discerned. I would say that it is better to manifest younger, as your life adapts far more easily to the changes. But it is far from unheard of to do so later."

"I always had the impression you were all secretive about it." Dela went back to the hearth as the kettle began to whistle. "But you seem so open."

"People don't ask," Nika said simply, shrugging. "It's an assumption that we hoard knowledge of how our magic works, but the only true secrets we keep are those of our identities. Even that is for safety above all else. Simply asking for clarification often makes far too much sense for the liking of most." Dela thought he might have smiled at her then. "You seem much more confident since Kerrin took you under her wing."

Dela flushed. In the last few weeks, as casualties continued to arrive in numbers, Kerrin had called on Dela often to give thorough accountings of what went on in the shelters she had worked at in order to free Maniel and other Clerics for more important duties. Through those regular meetings a trust had formed between them; Kerrin now sent her with small groups of acolytes both of an age and younger than her to shelters where Maniel would give her the direction of the girls on her floor. She suspected Kerrin received reports on how well she did, and always strove not to disappoint her. It wasn't without a cost – she often returned to her bed haunted by long, difficult illnesses and prolonged deaths and the anguish of the families she had to talk with afterwards. She no longer felt fourteen years old. She had witnessed things she was sure people double her age had never seen.

"It's not so much that," she said. "I think seeing so much death ages you."

"I agree." They worked alongside each other to strain the tea and set the cups onto trays. When Dela hefted one into her arms, Nika followed suit. Before long they had distributed to all the workers and the patients who were well enough to take tea, and when Dela was called to change the dressings of a demon wound, Nika followed.

"I can show you how to do it more efficiently, if you wish." The Unspoken took the dressings from her.

She shadowed Nika for the rest of the afternoon, watching in fascination as he treated wounds and symptoms. He always seemed to know exactly what to say to even the most difficult questions. Those who seemed wary of an Unspoken at their bedside soon relaxed as his calm voice washed over them, and Dela found some of the tension easing from her own body as well. Strange as he seemed, it was impossible not to find Nika's soft tones and gentle manner calming. Though the sickness continued to rage throughout the ward, Dela found it easier to sink into the moment and find clarity when she needed it.

They were nearing night when a commotion downstairs broke the relative peace. Nika and Dela exchanged a glance over a patient's bed, and then began to move towards the stairs. Dela trailed at a distance, unsure whether she had any right to investigate what was going on but drawn by her curiosity. From the noise she couldn't work out what the problem was; at first she assumed that someone else had fallen sick despite the lord's orders not to drink from quarantined pumps, but the shouting seemed too hysterical for that.

"Stay back, Dela." Nika suddenly turned on the stairs and gestured for her to stop. "This isn't safe for you."

"What is it?" she asked, trying to crane her neck, but the lintel was too low for her to see anything.

"I suspect plague," Nika replied tersely. "Which means no one save me should handle this case."

Cold terror washed through Dela. She had thought the plague was still days from the outskirts of the Reach. How had no one known about this?

"I'll warn the others," she said. She hurried back up the stairs and closed the door to the upper floor, not admitting to herself the relief she felt to have the barrier behind her. Then she walked quickly to the staircase up to the next floor where she knew Maniel was working.

She found the Cleric sitting by the bedside of an old man. She looked up as Dela entered, a question in her eyes, and something in Dela's expression must have conveyed the urgency of the situation to her. The priestess stood and gestured her to the small side room that was in use as a storeroom.

"Is everything well, Dela?"

Dela whispered, almost inaudible for fear that she wouldn't control her terror or her volume if she spoke any louder, "Nika is dealing with a plague case downstairs."

Maniel went pale. "Kiel help us."

"What do I do?" Dela didn't want to sound like a child hoping for a solution, but it was how she felt.

"For now, nothing save to warn the girls on your floor not to go downstairs until the danger is contained. There is nothing else we can do. Do not let the patients overhear you, we don't want a panic."

Dela nodded, glad for something to do. She kept her mind firmly on the task and not on the horrific stories she had heard about the plague. Her brother had been the one to bring the news of it, and his descriptions had been bad enough; she had never known Raklan to exaggerate unnecessarily.

For a brief moment she thought longingly of the open grasses where she would be safe from the plague as long as the tribe stayed away from settlements. The city would be a trap for contagion if it wasn't contained early enough. The moment she'd had the thought, however, she shoved it aside. They were useless thoughts driven by fear, and Kerrin had always taught that fear was a poor basis for decision making.

She found all the girls working on her floor and spread the news in as gentle a way as she could manage. A couple of them panicked and had to be sent to Maniel. She could no longer hear what was going on below.

It seemed an age before it was judged that the danger had passed. Dela's back ached and her feet were sore from so many hours of work. The door to the lower floor remained closed until night fell, and when it did open it was a member of the city guard who entered to escort them back to the temple. Though all of them were exhausted, the cloister dormitories were a hive of activity that evening.

"Well, it can't be just one person," Taria said matter-of-factly, crouched on the end of Lin's pallet in the room she and Dela shared. "Not this far into the city."

"It could be," Lucine said, matching Taria's confidence with stubbornness. "If demons spread it, you can't just assume it came from another person."

"I can," Taria said, "because to catch it from a demon that person would have to be in close contact with a demon and not die. How is that more likely?"

"It's more likely than you lot shutting up," Lin grumbled. She was the only acolyte to be in bed, and she spoke with her face mashed into the pillow. Dela smiled and nudged her with a foot.

"You've always got to be wet sacking on the gossip, haven't you?" she teased. A baleful eye glittered at her from the bed.

"Yes. I'm tired. I don't know how you're still sitting upright."

"I think the wind changed while I was sitting in one of those chairs. I'm stuck in this position."

That earned her a reluctant smile, smothered a moment later in the bedding. Since Lin's training had caught up with Dela's they had argued less; at Dela's request, Maniel always had them working in the same place. It pleased her to have her friend so close all the time and she suspected Lin enjoyed the extra attention just as much, though she'd never admit it. The other girls whispered about both of them now, but it was easier to ignore it together.

Another acolyte invited herself in, knocking gently and sneaking around the door – Kell, also in their class. She tiptoed up the aisle between the pallets and squeezed herself between Lucine and Taria. She had probably had a vigil that ran longer than the others, but looking at the expression on her face Dela didn't think that was the only reason she had been late. Taria wasn't the only one fond of eavesdropping.

"Orthan is trying to buy Kerrin's Medica off her," she whispered. "And they said if they can't have it, they want a temple building."

"What?" They all exchanged dubious glances. Kell didn't seem perturbed by their scepticism.

"I heard it! That priest who's standing in for Ethred, I saw him heading to her office when I got in. So I investigated a little." She affected casualness. "Just in case it was a safety issue."

That finally prompted Lin to raise her head from the pillow and scowl. "Yeah, right. You're just nosy, Kell." She propped herself on her folded arms, intrigued despite herself. "Did you hear anything about why in Kiel's name they want Kerrin's Medica? I bet it isn't to help the poor."

"All I heard was that they didn't have an appropriate building for certain plans." Kell shrugged. "They wouldn't expand on it, not even for Kerrin. And of course she put her foot down, because we have few enough shelters for the season as it is. So Areon said he'd buy a temple from her."

"Tell me she refused that too," Dela said.

"She did," Kell nodded vigorously, "and added that she'd only even consider it if they could give her a good reason why they wanted it, and why one of their own temples wouldn't do for whatever it was they had planned."

"What did he say?"

"He just said it all again, but louder," Kell replied, snickering. "He was starting to sound stupid. But then Maniel got back and I had to run for it."

"Sometimes I wonder if Orthanian brains work the same way as everyone else's," Lin mumbled, dropping her head back to the pillow to indicate her withdrawal from the conversation.

The other four discussed the matter until they had exhausted all their ideas about what Orthan wanted and had to concede that it wouldn't get them anywhere. By the time Kell, Lucine and Taria left, Dela was falling asleep where she sat. She bolted the door behind them and sighed, trudging to her pallet and lying down. She had a morning free the next day, before she had to return to the shelters.

"Do you want to help in the gardens tomorrow?" Lin asked.

Dela smiled. "I knew you weren't asleep."

"Taria never shuts up when she gets a bit of gossip to chew on. I was hoping she'd get bored faster." Lin propped herself up on her elbow. "I don't like the sound of it though. They're up to something, those Orthanians."

"Undoubtedly," Dela said through a yawn. "But I'm getting a bit tired of city intrigue. I always seem to get dragged into problems that are nothing to do with me. If I can stay out of this one I'll count it as a plus."

"Have you asked your physician friend?"

"About what?"

"If there's anything that can be done for your phenomenal bad luck."

"Oh shut up." They laughed, a moment of lightness before the weight of current concerns crashed back down around her. "I can't believe plague made it here already."

Lin stared at her steadily, and then flipped back her blanket. "You spend way more time worrying about this stuff than you should. Get over here."

Dela slithered back out of her own blankets and curled up under Lin's as she threw them back down over them both. She smiled; it was already warm, and sleeping this way reminded her of the tight-packed tents they slept in on the plains. Her best friend lay back down beside her and closed her eyes.

"You can't fix the whole world, Dela."

Dela put an arm around Lin's waist and closed her own eyes in turn. She sighed, and allowed her worries to temporarily drift away from her. "I know."

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Regards,

Elinor (S E Harrison)