Holding back a grimace, Arturo let the healer examine his arm. Morandis was the best healer in the Crystal Syndicate.
Veldahar was standing in the tent. He wasn’t saying much and Arturo wondered why he was wasting his time here. On the other side of the tent were Gosford and Rogoth.
“Hmm,” Morandis said as he finished wrapping the arm in a cast. “You’ll be lucky to be fully healed in ten weeks, more likely twelve.”
“I can’t wait that long to heal,” Arturo said. His skills would get rusty and he needed to get stronger. His fight with Ribalt had taught him much. He needed to focus on wielding his blade with one hand.
Morandis’ tongue clicked as he shook his head. “Unless you know a mage who will heal you…” he let the sentence hang.
Finding a mage was unlikely, especially among a mercenary band. Mages rarely healed those who were injured in war unless they were paid or felt generous. When he had asked Veldahar about it, he told Arturo that a mage wouldn’t heal a soldier because it would put them back on the battlefield. The other reason was that other nations might think mages were taking sides. That didn’t make sense to Arturo; nothing could stop the mages from doing what they wanted.
With a sigh, Arturo nodded and the healer got up. What a mess this was. The Crystal Syndicate would be moving to Eshil Domain due to the rebellions going on over there. The rebels had been defeated eighteen months ago but had somehow regained their numbers and were causing problems again.
“Thanks, Morandis, let me know if you need anything,” Veldahar said. Morandis nodded and left.
“Looks like I’ll be here a while,” Arturo said. He stood up and winced as he bumped his sword with his right arm. This was going to take some getting used to. At least I can train my left arm while my right heals. The thought amused him for some reason.
“Well, we have a directive for the next few weeks,” Veldahar said. “We’re going to stay here until Vandalor sends enough troops to occupy the fortress. From there we’ll go to Eshil Domain. You should be close to healed by then.”
Arturo thought about it. No, even if they stayed here for three weeks and got to Eshil Domain in five, he wouldn’t be healed for at least another two weeks, more likely four. Was this worth killing a legend for? Yes. The fight had been educational. He needed to focus on addressing a few weaknesses. Would that be enough to kill the man who had murdered his brothers? He hoped so.
“Here’s your pay.” Veldahar tossed him a bag, which smacked Arturo’s chest as he tried to catch it and missed.
It was going to take time adjusting to using his left hand. Arturo grabbed the bag off the ground and raised his eyebrows. “This is far more than usual,” he said when he opened the bag.
“It’s your reward for killing a legend,” Veldahar said. “If not for you, we would have lost far more troops and might still be fighting.”
Arturo glanced the money in the bag. There was his usual pay of seven silver coins, but inside was a gold coin. He saved most of his money, using only portions of it of it to buy food or chipping in for alcohol. He didn’t like to gamble or spend his money elsewhere.
Veldahar grabbed a seat and sat in front of Arturo. “You’ve been with us for two years and are an incredible swordsman. You’re the best soldier we have.”
“Yeah,” Arturo said awkwardly.
“I know we missed a couple of raids from the people who attacked your village and they’ve been very quiet for the past year. Do you still plan on leaving to go find them yourself?”
Now he knew why the commander brought this up. Shortly after joining the Crystal Syndicate, Arturo told the commander that if they didn’t find the invaders in two years he would leave to do so on his own. He would soon need to decide whether to go through with his original plan.
“I don’t want you to leave. You’re too valuable.” Veldahar hesitated before continuing. “Would you accept a promotion to captain? You’ll be given command and be paid more.”
Money wasn’t why he fought. Veldahar should know that. “What about our original arrangement?” Arturo asked.
“That stays. If we find out anything about the invaders, we’ll pursue them. Agreed?”
In truth, Arturo enjoyed his time with the Crystal Syndicate. The mercenaries were good people, something he still had a hard time believing. He had already thought about staying, so long as the original arrangement held. Of course, he wouldn’t complain about more money.
“I’ll stay,” Arturo said.
A look of relief washed over Veldahar. “That’s good to hear. I’ll let you rest,” he said with a slight nod and walked out.
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“Congratulations,” Gosford said.
“Thanks,” Arturo replied. He had forgotten there were others in the tent. “Would you two be willing to serve under my command?”
“You know I will,” Rogoth blurted out.
If Gosford was irritated about being replaced as the main leader, he didn’t show it. “I would put all my men under your command,” Gosford said.
That made things easier. He had worked well with Gosford and his men for two years. It would be easier to deal with familiar faces. “Then I would like you to inform your men of the arrangement,” Arturo said.
“Of course,” replied Gosford.
“Nothing will change. The only difference is that I now have the authority to overrule you,” Arturo said.
“I know,” Gosford smiled. “Makes things easier on me since I don’t have to make the big calls.”
“True,” Arturo chuckled and rubbed his head. He needed to sleep. “I’m going to head back to my tent.”
He walked out of the tent and squinted in the sunlight. Vandalor troops walked around and celebrated. Many drank and yelled. The ones on guard duty looked irritated that they had to miss out on the fun. Over four thousand rebels had to be captured. They had to use some rooms in the fortress as temporary prison cells because of the large number of captives until more cells were created.
Would King Durran execute them all? Surely, he wouldn’t. No, most would be put to work. Vandalor didn’t like wasting free labor. Some would die; others would wish they were dead. He didn’t envy anyone forced to do labor for the king.
He winced when someone bumped into his arm. Arturo would have said something but the man was too drunk to know what was going on. How he was drunk so fast—suddenly, his armor grew cold. It felt like ice had formed where the Verian armor was.
Suppressing a shiver, Arturo touched the armor and realized why it was so cold. Someone was trying to use the power on him! Glancing around quickly, he noticed someone look at him and then turn around, moving swiftly once he realized he had been seen. The person was wearing a robe with a hood that covered their face, making it difficult to identify them.
Arturo rushed forward, glimpsed the edge of a robe disappearing into a tent. He needed to know why this person had tried to use the power on him. If he was a threat, Arturo would take him down.
He opened the flaps and walked into the tent. The only person in the tent, a young man, turned around, startled at Arturo’s sudden appearance. The hood of his robe was down and he knew this was the man who had tried using the power on him.
“What do you want?” the man asked.
Arturo studied him, noting the dark red robe. The man had short black hair and green eyes. “Why did you try to use the power on me?”
“I didn’t.”
Anger flared within Arturo and he reached out, grabbing the man by the collar and lifting his feet off the ground. “I could kill you before you could ever scream for help. Tell me why or you’ll regret it.”
There was a slight hesitation, then a nod. Arturo put the man down.
“My name is Tarmon Mayhee. I wanted to see how bad your broken arm was.”
“Why? Are you a mage?”
“No.” Tarmon waved his hands as if it was bad to be a mage.
“Then why use the power? I know it’s not allowed unless you’re a mage of Mortham Tower,” Arturo said.
Fear struck Tarmon’s face. “Please don’t tell anyone!” he begged, lowering his head and clasping his hands together. “I beg you not to tell!”
“Answer my questions and I won’t,” Arturo said. This person looked harmless, but could that really be so if they could use the power? “What are you doing here?”
Relief washed over Tarmon and he straightened up as if he hadn’t been begging a moment ago. “I joined the Crystal Syndicate a few weeks ago. I’m trying to avoid the mages and figured I could hide here and help people while I’m at it. I read the proclamation from King Lerin that there was an invasion force coming this way and I wanted to be prepared.”
The proclamation. That made sense. Two years ago, Lerin had sent out a letter to all major kingdoms to spread word about an invasion coming from overseas. Arturo wondered if that was because of the attack on Arindall or if the king had more information than he had revealed. Either way, more people were preparing—or at least they were in Azzellia.
However, after two years with no sign of an invasion, a lot of people had lost interest. Why was the enemy waiting so long?
“I heard about that. Are you a healer then?” Arturo asked.
“I’m not skilled with the power, at least not yet. I do know a little healing. Not enough to have you better by tomorrow but enough to speed up your recovery,” Tarmon said. “If you’ll let me, I can take a look and begin.”
Arturo bit his tongue as he thought about it. Could he trust this stranger to heal his arm? What if he messed up and damaged his arm forever? What if he heals you in a couple of weeks instead of two or three months? a voice whispered in his head.
“All right, I’ll let you take a look. Give me a second,” Arturo said and looked around to make sure no one would come inside. He then took off his armor and felt naked. If Tarmon was lying, he could kill Arturo and there would be nothing he could do to stop him.
Tarmon closed his eyes for a moment and placed his hands above Arturo’s right arm. Arturo didn’t feel much but it did look as though Tarmon was doing something. There was silence as Tarmon moved his hands over the wounds. He stopped after a minute.
“I think I can have you fully healed in a month,” Tarmon said.
“That quick?” Arturo asked.
“Yes,” Tarmon said. “Be warned, when I do this, you will be exhausted and may not be able to move much for a bit. Healing takes a toll on the body regardless of injuries and I’m not good enough to lessen the effects.”
Arturo took a chair and sat down. “Begin then.”
Tarmon placed his hands above his right arm. Arturo felt something this time. His right arm tingled, almost as if it were going numb. His vision blurred, and he had to shake his head to see straight. He breathed heavily and his stomach growled, begging for food. He hadn’t expected the healing to feel this way.
“That’s all I can do,” Tarmon said eventually. “Sorry; if I were more experienced, you’d feel a lot better.”
Arturo couldn’t speak, let alone move. His vision was growing dark. It felt as though he’d run all day, but his arm felt better already. It took him a while before he could speak. “I think I’m about to… pass out.”
Tarmon helped Arturo stand and then lay down. “You’ll need to sleep now. You’ll be very hungry when you wake. I’ll have food ready.”
Too exhausted even to nod, Arturo closed his eyes. He heard Tarmon leave the tent and wondered what the man was hiding. Why would someone who could use the power join a group of mercenaries? He didn’t believe the story of preparing for war. Before long, darkness took him.