The Cursewright's Vow

Chapter 17: The Way to Autumnsgrove, Part 4

 Upon returning to the dusty monastery courtyard, Ammas saw that Casimir had thoroughly flouted his orders. Barthim had Lord Marhollow in a headlock so tight Denisius's face had turned a deep shade of purple. 

"You must be saying, 'Yield!' good Denisius!" Barthim laughed, tousling Denisius's hair as the young noble struggled to breathe. Vos looked on from the cookfire, apparently unsure whether or not he should intervene.

"I did not encourage this," Carala said, a touch too defensively.

"You know, Barthim," Ammas said as he sat beside Carala on a low rock wall that had once been the boundary of a paddock, "if I missed any of Denisius's blisters, they're liable to burst and infect you. I don't imagine your tattoos would come through intact, even if I did treat you."

Barthim let go of Denisius as though the young man were on fire. "Ah, that is a dirty trick, good Lord Marhollow! No different from an improper hold, I am thinking. That counts as a forfeit, does it not, Cass?"

"It doesn't," Casimir shook his head. "He has to actually say he forfeits. Do you forfeit, milord?" Denisius was having trouble speaking in complete words, and settled for shaking his head. Casimir shrugged. "Sorry, Barthim. He wins fair and square."

Barthim grumbled under his breath but didn't dispute Casimir's ruling. Carala hid a smile behind her hands. "Denisius, come here a moment," Ammas called. Denisius waved his hand, waiting until he got his breath back before making his way over to the cursewright. "You should really follow my advice. Recent misadventures notwithstanding, I generally know my business," Ammas murmured as he inspected Denisius's bandaged hand and ear. "Any nausea? Lightheadedness? Itching or soreness where the blisters were?"

Denisius shook his head, managing a clear, "No," giving Carala a breathless smile as he did.

"Very well. I commend the Gallises for their iron constitutions." Denisius nodded, bowed to Carala, and went to the cookfire, helping himself to Barthim's latest pudding as the Beast unwrapped it, washing it down with a healthy drink from his waterskin. (The monastery pump seemed completely dry no matter how much they primed it, which possibly explained why it had been abandoned.) Casimir soon joined him and Carala on the bench, sharing his own slices of pudding with the both of them.

"You are very kind to treat Denisius so, Ammas," Carala said quietly.

"Kind, nothing. His father can pay." He winked at her as he enjoyed some of the steak pudding, dousing it in the bottle of mushroom ketchup Barthim had refused to travel without. Ammas hadn't believed anything could improve Barthim's cooking, but this stuff was a miracle.

"That was not a joke?"

"There are perfectly reasonable rates for treating the Yellow Death. The elixir doesn't spring from the ground, you know."

Carala stared at him curiously. "I may have spoken too soon when I said my father was right to purge your kind, Ammas. But I must say I really do not know what to make of you."

"Just remember two things." Ammas ticked them off in the air with the point of his knife. "One, I've sworn an oath of service to you, and I take my oaths seriously. Two, you said to me you considered this experience to be an education. Let it continue to be one." He grinned at Casimir. "That'll make two of you, won't it, Casimir?"

Casimir nodded, grinning even more broadly than his master.

Once their lunch was finished, Ammas called the rest of them to gather around. "My original plan was to arrive at Vilais by ship, using the landing at Port Nireau. Autumnsgrove is only about a two days' journey from there. Since we're on the proper side of the Azure Sea, we can go overland, though it'll take about two weeks, if we make good time. And time is a factor." He looked at Carala gravely. "Two weeks puts us on the verge of a moon cycle that will lead to an irresistible transformation. If we can cure you before that time, that would be ideal. But if we can't, I want us to be either within Autumnsgrove or closer to Vilais, not out in the wild."

"Why in Vilais?" There was an edge in Carala's voice she couldn't restrain. "If I'm to find myself in that situation again, I would think it preferable to be as far from others as possible."

"A city has other options for restraints, if they are necessary," Ammas said softly. "A city has locked doors. I don't want to put you in a cage, but behind a locked door -- that might be something the wolf in you will tolerate. What I don't want is to be in the middle of nowhere, to be in a place where you might dart off into the night and become impossible to find."

"Surely we can do better than that," Denisius said. His tone was not quite angry, but anger wasn't far below the surface. "Carala came to you for a cure, not to lock her up in a cell or -- or chain her to a tree, or whatever it is you're planning to do."

"I do have some more sophisticated methods than chains and cages, Lord Marhollow," Ammas said evenly. "That said, we must do whatever is necessary to keep both Carala and ourselves safe. You have seen with your own eyes how dangerous a werewolf can be, however kind she might be while in her human shape."

"I have, and I kept her safe without resorting to -- to whatever it is you're planning to do!"

"With respect, Lord Marhollow, you have no idea what I plan to do." Ammas struggled to master his temper, remembering that this was after all a young man who surely felt he had much to prove to the woman sitting beside him. "But -- kept her safe? You completely lost track of her. If that happens again, we may not find her."

Denisius flushed. "I -- now see here, Ammas, I had no idea what was going to happen in that tower, we had just been attacked, and -- "

"And you performed heroically. I know that. Carala knows that." Beside him the princess nodded, though there was an unease in her eyes at this not-quite-argument her promised husband and her sworn cursewright seemed to be having. "But the situation has changed. There are others hunting for her. We have only barely escaped them. If she should take off into the wild and fall into their hands, what will you do?"

"You need not speak of me as though I am not here," Carala said icily.

Ammas bowed his head. "Your pardon," he sighed. When he looked up Denisius looked none too placated. "Carala has extraordinary will. You have extraordinary compassion. Let me add my knowledge to the matter and hopefully it will be to the good of all, especially hers."

"Your knowledge couldn't cure her," Denisius retorted.

"Deni, please." Carala stood up and took his hands in hers, though whether in response to the anger in his face or rising in Ammas's she herself wasn't sure. "Ammas got us out of the city. He just cured you of the Yellow Death. He knew right away what was wrong with you. I think he can help us. I think he can help me. Please trust him? Can you do that for me?"

"It's not like he treated me or you out of the goodness of his heart," Denisius said, his eyes flashing from Carala to Ammas.

"'Trust not the servant who refuses gold, for his price will be higher,' Barthim said reverently. They all turned and stared. Barthim shrugged. "I am a Blade of the Hethmar, but Tol Daether has his moments of wisdom, too."

"He does," Ammas smiled, and rose. "Your pardon as well, Lord Marhollow. I understand I have yet to prove myself in your eyes. After all, it was my chosen route out of Munazyr that led to your infection in the first place." There remained a trace of anger in Denisius's face, but Ammas supposed his own eyes were none too friendly themselves. "Perhaps you'll feel differently when we reach Autumnsgrove. If you will give me that much time?"

Denisius looked from Ammas to Carala. What shone through in his expression was not mistrust or dislike but a nervous bemusement that told Ammas this was a man completely out of his element, and who feared failure above all else. Such diffidence could inspire him to great feats . . . or completely unman him in the face of disaster. 

At last he nodded. "I can do that. Forgive me my -- my lack of faith, I suppose. I thought this would all be over once Carala reached you, or one of your brethren."

"I did as well," Carala said softly.

"Nothing in life is so easy," Ammas said with a half-smile, his eyes meeting Barthim's. The Beast nodded approvingly. "Come closer, and we'll sketch out our route. I want to avoid the roads as long as we can. The nearer we get to Vilais, the harder it will be to travel unremarked."