RHIDAUNA, The Shadow of the Revenaunt, Book 1

CHAPTER 5 - THE CLIMBING CLAWERD INN (Part One)

When Ghyll and Olle arrived back at the castle, their first visit was to their friend in the infirmary. They heard Damion's voice while they were still out in the hallway, sounding so happy that Ghyll quickened his step. At the entrance, he stopped in surprise and his foster brother had to hold on to the doorpost not to crash into him.

'What...' Olle began, but then he fell silent.

Damion, who they had left that morning swathed in bandages, sat up in the pillows, dressed in nothing but his long shirt, deep in conversation with a man neither of the two knew. He talked so animatedly that at first he didn't notice Ghyll and Olle. Then he glanced their way and Ghyll saw his face light up.

'Hey, look at me,' he cried, beaming from ear to ear.

The two stared at him, speechless.

'Baron Halwyrd?' The stranger rose and greeted them with a bow. He was small, even shorter than Damion, with the elegant aloofness of a cat. 'I'm master Falahrren, chirurgeon.' Even his eyes were those of a cat, Ghyll thought, honey-colored, with dark pupils.

'Your friend is an amazing specimen, baron,' the chirurgeon said. 'It's twenty years since I became a craft master, but I've never before met a patient healing as fast as Damion – and that without medical assistance.'

Ghyll opened his mouth but no sound came out. He cleared his throat. 'But... How... This morning he could barely lift his hand and now...'

Falahrren gave a delicate shrug. 'This is a day full of miracles. First, imagine my surprise, when I received the message from my esteemed colleague that he had need of my presence here. A wonder, was my first thought. The good priest is not known to share his patients willingly with our humble brotherhood.' A fleeting, condescending smile crossed Falahrren's face. 'Nor did he do so in this case, I am sorry to say, for he could not find it in his excellent heart to inform me in person about the case. Of course, there was his able nurse with whom I could discuss the situation. Well, you will understand the difficulty of checking a patient for fractures and injuries while they are hidden under layers of bandages, so I took the liberty of removing them.'

'Ah, the relief.' Damion laughed. 'Suddenly I could move again.'

'And that, my young friend, was the biggest miracle. With three broken ribs, a lacerated leg and Kathauna knows what internal injuries, you should have been incapacitated for months.' Falahrren turned to Ghyll. 'Instead, he is almost healed.'

'But how?' Ghyll said. He pointed to Damion's leg. A faint white scar showed where the boar had opened it three days earlier. 'Two days ago, this was a deep wound. You could see the bone and all.'

Again, the chirurgeon moved his shoulders slightly, an elegant gesture that showed a lot of exercise in front of a mirror. 'It would have been impossible,' said he. 'Unless Damion had an aptitude for magic?'

The three boys looked perplexed.

'Me?' Damion said and his voice rose. It was clear that he had not thought about his miraculous recovery yet.

'Has one of your parents magical powers?' the chirurgeon asked. 'Or maybe someone else in your family?'

Damion's face showed his confusion. 'Not my father. Oh no, certainly not him, that's absurd. My father hates everything magical. My mother follows the teachings of Iodraune. Perhaps she...'

Falahrren cocked his head. 'Who is your mother?'

Damion hesitated. 'She's Caerch Asharte, from Vavaun.'

'Ahaha,' the chirurgeon said triumphantly. 'A lot of wild blood flows through these Vavaunans. Wild, magical blood. Asharte, you say? That makes me think of the DeAshartes, one of the boldest dynasties of all. Almost all its members have been either prominent Green mages or great warriors. DeGry and DeAsharte are the two ducal families vying for power in Vavaun. At this moment a DeGry holds the throne, but take it from me that the DeAshartes will do their utmost to unseat him. Their feud has been going on for near a century. Tiresome and inefficient, I would think, but they must be satisfied with it. If your mother is a DeAsharte, Damion, and a follower of the Goddess of Beasts, it does not surprise me that your injuries heal in three days. Many members of the Green Order have excellent regenerative powers. Perhaps this even explains why you can speak with flies.'