Yann and Anríq woke up the next morning and continued down the same road to the next town. Would this be the town where Yann parted ways with Anríq? Was Yann really ready to go that far?

He couldn’t imagine life without Anríq now. Yann’s whole destiny seemed to be tied up with Anríq now for some reason Yann couldn’t explain it even to himself.

Yann expected everything to play out the same in this town as it did in all the other towns he and Anríq visited.

Yann would have to find some way to occupy himself while Anríq healed all the town’s sick and injured people. Then Anríq would have to fix things no one else in town could fix, find things no one else in town could find, and construct things no one else in town could construct.

Anríq went through all of this so methodically. He never asked for payment for healing anyone. He only expected payment for the little conveniences the townspeople could do themselves or would take longer to do.

Yann was just thinking about how to pass the time while he waited for Anríq to finish when the two of them passed a skeleton by the side of the road.

It sat propped against the grassy bank with a placard resting across the skeleton’s chest. Someone had painted across the placard in messy black letters, Danger! Go no further! Death inside!

“That doesn’t look good,” Yann remarked.

“They must have a plague or something going on,” Anríq replied. “I’ve seen this before.”

He kept going. Yann didn’t want to go anywhere with death inside, but being a wandering healer everyone turned to for help must have compelled Anríq to try to help the town.

The two boys passed four more skeletons, each with a placard giving the same warning.

“Can you tell what killed them?” Yann asked.

Anríq approached the last skeleton and placed his hand on its skull. “It was something magical.”

“Really? They didn’t die of disease?”

“No. I’m certain of it.” Anríq turned his sharp gaze toward the town. “They need help. They wouldn’t leave these skeletons unless it was serious.”

He started forward again. Yann hesitated, but if Anríq was going in, Yann better go, too.

If Anríq could heal whatever was wrong with the town, maybe he could make sure Yann didn’t meet the same fate.

A sturdy protective stone wall surrounded the town, but Yann didn’t see any men on watch. A heavy wood and iron gate blocked the entrance where the road went into town. The gates were closed and probably locked from the inside.

The boys traveled another few hundred yards before the gates burst open. Ten people rushed out, charged up the road to the two boys, and the townspeople surrounded Anríq all talking at once.

He didn’t answer them. He looked from one flushed face to the other trying to hear everything they were saying at the same time.

Yann stood off to one side. Should he avoid touching these people?

None of them noticed him. They seized Anríq by the hands and tried to pull him toward the town even though he was already going there.

They all babbled about the affliction striking their town. From the little Yann could gather, these people gave Anríq a litany of all the various symptoms everyone in town had been suffering from.

Yann didn’t know anything about medicine, but he’d seen enough of the world to know these symptoms were too different from each other. They didn’t all belong to the same class of disease.

That was the problem. One person suffered from a fever. One person broke out in boils all over his body. Another dropped dead with no symptoms at all.

Each person suffered a completely different form of whatever caused the outbreak—or attack—or whatever the hell it was.

Anríq didn’t say a word the whole way back to town. He wouldn’t have been able to get a word in edgewise even if he hadn’t taken a vow of silence.

One youngish woman and an older man kept hold of his hands all the way back to the gate. They all kept talking right up to the very threshold.

They fell unnaturally silent the minute they got back to the wall. Every eye turned inward to stare at the town.

A few dead bodies lay scattered in the street. Some skeletons sat slumped against the walls of houses. They must have been there for a long time.

Not a living thing moved in town besides these ten people who came out to get Anríq. The streets and shops stood empty. A deadly silence hung over the town.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“It started a year ago,” the middle-aged man breathed. “We don’t know why. It just started out of nowhere for no apparent reason—and then the Corsairs started their attacks.”

Yann spun around fast. “Corsairs—attacking?!”

The man nodded. “They attacked for no reason. They waited until the curse brought us to our weakest point and then they sacked the town. They’ve sacked us practically every month for two years. We don’t know why. They never take anything. They just destroy as much of the town as they can, kill as many people as they can, and then leave so they can do it all over again the following month.”

Yann frowned. “That makes no sense.”

“Who knows why the Corsairs do anything? They’re beasts.” The man grabbed Anríq’s hand even tighter. “My name is Avol Dyrio. I’m the mayor of this town. Please come to my home. I would be honored to give you hospitality while you carry out your sacred calling.”

“He’ll do no such thing, Avol!” the woman on Anríq’s right cut in. “You only want him to stay with you so he’ll heal your family first.” The woman seized Anríq’s hand. “Please come to my home. I have three young children all on the verge of death. We need you more than he does.”

“We all have sick children and relatives at home, Aria,” a younger man interrupted. “None of your families are more important than anyone else’s.”

“You can’t talk, Gachu!” Aria snapped over her shoulder. “You haven’t lost anyone close to you yet.”

“But you will,” Avol snarled. “Then you’ll know how it feels.”

“This Servant can decide who to heal first,” Gachu replied. “We brought him here to help us. We’ll all abide by his decision—and he and his friend can sleep in the old church house. Then none of us can say we’re showing him any favors.”

“His name is Anríq,” Yann interrupted.

“Oh.” Avol frowned at Anríq like it just now occurred to this man that Anríq even had a name. “Well, where would you like to start?”

Anríq shook off both the people holding onto him and headed for the nearest house to the right of the gate.

The ten people who’d gone out to get him stayed where they were and stared after him in horrified shock. They must not have really thought he would choose the nearest house at random.

They didn’t follow him over there. That left Yann to go with Anríq.

Yann dreaded finding out whatever was inside that house, but he would be damned if he let Anríq face it alone.

Rickety wooden stairs rose from ground level to a door high on the side of the building. Yann followed Anríq up there and Anríq threw open the door.

Yann peered around Anríq’s big shoulders at a filthy room with most of the furniture smashed to matchsticks. A single old woman stood in the center of the room wearing a threadbare cotton slip worn practically transparent with age.

She held a longsword in her skeletal arms and stringy white hair hung over her face. It spilled across her emaciated shoulders where every bone jutted through paper-thin skin.

She whirled from one side to the other swiping her sword at the air. She kept gasping from the effort of holding up the sword.

She turned in Yann’s and Anríq’s direction. Her glazed eyes and wild features registered not a trace of recognition that the two boys were standing there watching her.

Yann and Anríq exchanged glances. This presented a much different challenge than the other cases of healing Anríq dealt with in previous towns.

“Are you sure this curse is magical?” Yann murmured out the side of his mouth.

“More than ever,” Anríq murmured back. “There’s nothing wrong with her physically—except that she’s been doing this for so long that she’s forgotten how to eat.”

“How is she even still alive?” Yann asked.

Anríq unhooked his club from his belt. “I’ll take care of the sword. As soon as I disarm her, grab her and hold her so I can get near her.”

Yann nodded. At least he didn’t have to face this insane woman holding any kind of weapon.

The woman didn’t see the two boys inch into the room. Yann propped his glaive against the wall. Anríq hefted his club and stepped out right in front of the woman.

He dwarfed the woman by a mile, but she definitely saw him this time. She let out a feral screech, raised her sword, and charged him.

Yann would have jumped in to stop her. He didn’t see how she could hurt Anríq when she didn’t have a scrap of muscle on her frail bones. He could have crushed her with that club and put her out of her misery in seconds.

She slashed the weapon at him. He hauled back his club, and with one almighty blow, he shattered her sword into a million fragments.

Yann lunged in behind her and hooked his arms around her elbows to pull her arms back.

She kicked and fought a lot harder than he expected. Whatever curse affected the town gave her unnatural strength.

He had to strain every fiber just to hold her still. Even then, she jerked back and forth so hard that she knocked him off balance.

She swung her legs around trying to kick both boys. Anríq rushed in and tried to touch her head, but she kicked him in the chest and then swung her other foot in a high arc to try to kick him in the head.

He dodged back to kept out of range. Yann nearly lost his grip on her. Her skinny body writhed in his grip. She almost broke free before he tightened his arms around her shoulders.

She howled and shrieked to wake the dead. She yanked and tossed from side to side and then hurled what little weight she had back against Yann.

He stumbled and bumped into the bed in the corner. It had survived multiple sword attacks from this woman. Hack marks indented the frame and deep slashes sliced open the mattress and bedspread.

The woman’s weight pitched Yann over onto his back. He tried to angle his fall so she fell on top of him. He had to concentrate all his energy just to keep his hold on her so she didn’t get away from him.

Anríq rushed them and bent over the woman. “Hold onto her, Yann!” Anríq bellowed over her noises.

“I am holding onto her!” Yann yelled back. “Do whatever you’re going to do! Do it now! Hurry!”

Anríq dove on top of the woman and pinned her under his own weight. His bulk crushed her with Yann trapped underneath, but at least the woman couldn’t move around now.

Anríq straddled her legs to stop her from kicking—and then he finally grabbed her head in both his massive hands.

He let off a powerful thump of magic into her that knocked her out cold. She wilted on top of Yann and lay still.

Yann took a few agonized seconds before he dared to let go of her. He didn’t trust her not to spring back to life any second now.

Anríq sank back onto his knees panting hard.

“Is that it?” Yann asked. “Is she healed now?”

“I haven’t even started. I just knocked her out so she wouldn’t attack us. You can get up now.”

Anríq climbed off the bed and lifted the old woman’s body away so Yann could get up. Then Anríq laid her back down.

“What do you have to do to heal her?” Yann asked.

“I don’t know yet.” Anríq laid the backs of his knuckles on the woman’s cheek. “She’s ice cold. Get a fire going for me, will you please? I saw a stack of firewood downstairs.”

End of Chapter 37.