Chapter Fifty-Three: At Rest

Chapter Fifty-Three: At Rest

Tom and Sesame hurried down the path to the village between the rows of apple and peach trees. The bright pink and white blossoms, together with the relief washing over him that they had finally made it, lent a dream-like quality to the final stretch.

The first villagers he saw working in the rows he shouted at, frantic, to bring help. They dropped tools and baskets and sprinted back to the village. It was all he could do not to run himself. He wasnt sure Val would survive any jostling, not after two weeks at deaths door.

Her skin was still grey in colour, waxy in texture, and covered in sweat. The slight frown had never left her face. Not a sound had escaped her lips since they left. Her cheeks were gaunt enough for a skeleton.

Smitten whined piteously from beside her. Tom felt drawn thin, as if he were a string pulled to its utmost, a second away from snapping. Two weeks of the highest anxiety hed ever felt, now pushed to its peak by the promise of salvation at hand. He felt like he was vibrating.

All of a sudden, a group of people came rushing up the path. Most of them were Guards, but there were a few nervous looking villagers too. And one face that made him sure that he was dreaming, that his sanity had broken from the stress, that Val had died, he had gone insane, and he was wandering the Deep as a true madman.

And then she spoke, and she rushed to him and touched his face, and the cool feel of her fingertips on his cheek, brought him back to himself.

Tom? Tom! Whats happened? Oh Goddess! Shes hurt!

His mother. What was she doing out here? Was it really her?

He stood, stunned, trying to adjust to this new reality where his perfectly reserved, perpetually composed mother was here. As soon as she saw Val she dropped to her side, and began running her hands lightly over her body, barking at the villagers and Guards to give her space.

His mother tsked, her brow creased with concentration. Her hands immediately sought the wounds on Vals stomach. She pulled up her shirt, and pressed her hands flat next to the crude waddings Tom had been replacing.

Tom watched nervously, for what felt like aeons. No one spoke.

Then, so gradually he almost couldnt be sure it was happening, colour began to return to Vals face. Then she coughed, violently, and began to try and sit up, spasmed, and fell unconscious again.

Toms mother kept her hands pressed to the wounds in her abdomen. Her healing skills were not flashy. They never had been. No glowing lights haloed her hands, no motes of spectacular dust rained from them, no miraculous aura shone from her, as with so many other Healers.

Just her hands, pressed to a dying woman. Eventually, she stood.

Shes stable. Take her to my cottage, place her on the second bed. Ill be by shortly. Jered, can you take the bear there? Will he understand? If his Idealist is out cold

Hes mine, mother. Hell follow.

His mother turned to look at him with a slightly surprised expression.

Go, Jered. Not too quickly. Shes going to need days more healing, at least. Go.

The Guard she had named, a well-groomed looking fellow with a sad looking face, started at her commands, then hopped to. He gestured to Sesame to follow.

Hey there, big fellow. Just follow me, now. Nice and easy, Jered said, hesitantly.

Tom willed Sesame to follow him, and then to come find him when he was done. Scorn was staring daggers at everyone, as if they might suddenly attack his master. Smitten looked like she had fallen straight asleep as soon as his mother had stabilised Val. The furry grey dog must have been utterly exhausted. She deserved a medal.

Tom watched as Val was slowly taken away into the village. The rest of the small crowd dispersed, excepting the Guards, his mother, and Mayor Corin.

Youve got a story to tell, if Im any judge, Officer Dale said. The look he gave Tom was strange. The look of a man whos expecting bad news, and waiting only to find out the degree. My office, or yours?

Yours, I think, said Mayor Corin. The look on your face speaks volumes, lad. Better hear this away from any prying eyes or nimble ears. We dont want to cause a panic. He looked down the lane, to where the travois was disappearing between the first few houses. He sighed. Any more of a panic.

They walked to the barracks, a bigger building, rivalling the town hall in size, built to accommodate the Guard unit in town. It held their sleeping areas, a kitchen and mess, their armoury, a training yard, and an office at one side for Dale. It was placed on the outer edge, bordering the orchards, to give them a quick response should the village be threatened.

On the brief walk, Tom tried to put his thoughts in order. Val was safe. She would be okay. His mother was here. What was she doing here?

They trudged into the barracks, wended through the mess and down a hall to Dales office. The rest of the Guards dispersed back to their duties as they returned. Dale, his mother, and the Mayor stepped inside.

The office was larger than Tom expected, though not massive. It held a decent sized desk, with a plain chair behind, and several more in front. A much comfier chair stood in the far corner, a small table with an unlit lamp and an ashtray stood beside it, clearly Dales reading chair. They each took a seat. There was a pregnant pause, before Dale finally spoke.

So, Tom, what in The World has happened?

The simple question sent Toms thoughts down dizzying, winding roads. What had happened? A lot. Too much. How could he say it all? Where did he start?

What are you doing here? He blurted at his mother. He immediately felt stupid.

Not yet, Tom replied. We can fight them. I already have. They bleed and die just like we do. We won before. We can do it again.

Corin didnt look so sure.

I need to make preparations. And I need a damned drink. Ill find you in the morning, Dale, he said, and left them.

Dale glanced at Tom and his mother. His look spoke volumes.

I thank you for your service, Tom. Really, I cant thank you enough. Val has done a lot for this village, over the years. Shes saved all of us more than once. I dont want you to think me churlish, but I have a lot to see too, now. So much to do he trailed off.

Tom took the hint. Thank you, Officer Dale. I need to go see Val anyway. Sesames probably scaring the villagers again, too.

Dale barked a laugh at that, short and harsh. That big lump will be the least of their worries soon, Ill wager.

Tom let his mother lead him from the barracks. She took them down the main street, and off a smaller lane, to a tidy cottage just out of the centre of the village. Sesame was waiting outside. He had spoken with him through their bond, not wanting to leave Val while she was weak, and Tom hadnt forced him too. He had been busy, besides.

He gave Sesame a quick scratch as they stepped inside. His mother led him to a room at the back, where two beds were arranged in a small, cosy room. The room was ascetic, for the most part, neat, tidy and clean to the extreme, the beds dressed in starkly white sheets and covers. Val lay upon one. Toms heart lifted as he saw her. Colour had definitely returned to her.

His mother immediately began a more thorough check of her, quickly finding the wound in her back as well. She cut away Toms rough bandages, then she pressed hands over her wounds again, directly against the skin. More colour flowed into her. Her cheeks grew a little pinker, the greyness receding. Her breathing sounded a little easier. She stirred a little, but didnt wake. The relief Tom felt was palpable.

His mother redressed her wounds with clean white bandages from a shelf at one end of the room. Then she stood, and drew Tom into the kitchen area, seating him at a small table. She set a kettle to boil.

Shes going to be okay, she said, reading his thoughts. A couple of days and some more healing and shell be right as rain.

Tom visibly crumpled, as if the only thing keeping him going had been the sheer terror of his mentor dying. And indeed it had. His mother gave him another gentle smile.

Shes had a rough time. The wounds were deep, and they only just missed major arteries. It felt like shed weathered the full duration of some nasty debuffs, and she was poisoned, too. Shes lucky to have you, Tom. You saved her.

Tom felt his throat knot, and tears blurred his eyes. Gratitude. It was an emotion he was completely unused to. He had no defence against it.

Why are you here? he asked, and burst into tears.

In moments, he was swept into an embrace. His mother held him for a long time, cradling his head, shushing him, telling him it would be okay. Just like she had so many times before. Only now it wasnt him she had had to heal.

Eventually, when his tears stopped, and his throat turned from an ugly, burning twist between his head and shoulders, to a merely wobbly-feeling mess, she spoke.

Ive left your father, Tom. We have separated. Tom looked at her, uncomprehending.

That day, after the Hearing. It was too much. It had always been too much, I guess. I just couldnt see it. I spent so long with him he had strangled me. And I didnt even realise until I had become lifeless. Im so sorry, Tom. I should have done more.

That threatened to set him off again, but he regained himself.

It wasnt your fault, mother. I know just as well as you what it was like. Im glad youve left him.

Please, call me Mags. Im not sure I deserve to be called mother.

Tom held her gaze for a long moment. You said you left father. That doesnt explain why youre here, though, mother, he said, deliberately.

She beamed at him, and he saw moisture gather in the corners of her eyes too. Well, once I left, I went home. The Splint House was glad to have me back. They never liked your father, though they never said anything. It would have stretched the bounds of propriety. That, and they always hoped he might actually turn the Cutters around.

She trailed off for a moment. I got so bored, though. For the first time in twenty years it felt as though I had stepped back into the sunlight. I was free. I thought I have Healing and I couldnt stop thinking of you, and so I bought this little cottage here, and set myself up as the village Healer.

I bet they were overjoyed, Tom said warmly. Many Idealists had the odd healing skill, but those with proper healing Ideals were rare. It would have been a real coup for one to just wander into Corins Grove one day and ask to set up shop. They would have leapt to accommodate her.

They were, yes. Its been nice to feel needed. To be of use. The kettle whistled shrilly, then, and his mother deftly poured them two cups. She took a wooden serving board from a pantry, and heaped upon it some cheese and fruits.

Now, its been how many months since the Hearing? Six? You must have some stories for me! Theres a bench just outside, lets go sit. You can introduce me to that great big familiar of yours. Bring that little pot from the second shelf. I bet he likes honey!

Tom immediately felt Sesames full attention on him, pressing on him down the bond like a child at a candy shop window.

He did indeed like honey.