The Wolf's Song
"If you would do that for me, I will examine the ingredients myself. That should put Your Highness's mind at ease as well."
Thalia neither agreed nor refused. She merely waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. The woman bowed at once and withdrew from the room.
Seated before the hearth, watching the crackling embers, Thalia felt a heavy weariness settle over her and rose from her chair. The moment she stretched out upon the soft sheets, the pain that had been radiating through her knees began to subside. The salve, it seemed, was finally taking effect.
With hazy eyes she stared up at the stained and mottled ceiling, then turned her head toward the glass window glowing red. The sky had already shifted from bright amber to a deep wine-dark hue. That fiercely burning sunset would soon be swallowed by the dark — and once it was, the conditions for a surprise attack would be ideal.
A flicker of worry rose in her: what if Barcas were wounded in the fighting? She banished the thought at once. He was a man who had risen to the rank of knight commander before his twentieth year, outstripping hundreds of Roem Knights. Clearing out a band of raiders would be nothing to him.
Having driven the idle thoughts away, Thalia closed her eyes. Into her slowly fading consciousness seeped the tolling of bells that marked the end of the day. Listening to that distant resonance rolling out from the belfry, she slipped into sleep as though she had simply fainted.
When she next regained consciousness, it was the small hours of the morning, and a pitch-black darkness had settled over everything.
A burning thirst pulled her eyelids open. A sudden sense of suffocation seized her, and she clawed at the neckline of her linen dress. When the crushing tightness in her throat still refused to ease, she crawled to the edge of the bed and groped for the lamp.
That was when a faint crimson glow, running along the wall, caught her eye. Following the trail of that slender light, she turned her head and found the nearly extinguished fire in the hearth — and drew a deep breath. The dying threads of light felt, somehow, like fresh air.
Thalia climbed down from the bed and walked to the fireplace. A few embers still hissed among the black ash. She stacked several pieces of firewood over them and worked the bellows on the floor with vigorous pumps. The wood began to smoke, then burst into bright flame.
Her shoulders sagged with relief — and then she turned her head. A strange sound was coming from somewhere. Only after several seconds did she realize it was the cry of an animal.
A wild dog, perhaps?
She walked to the window and carefully pushed the glass open. A dry wind, sharp with cold, struck her face. Shivering at the chill, she searched the darkness for the source of the sound, now clearer still.
A mournful howling rolled across the moonlit hills. Yet nowhere could she find the shape of the beast that was crying out so desperately.
Wondering if the sound might be coming from the forest, she was about to turn her gaze toward the far edge of the grassland when someone knocked at the door.
Thalia went rigid with alertness.
"Who is it?"
"Forgive me, Your Highness. I heard movement and thought you might be unable to sleep for the pain, so I came to check on you."
It was the healer of House Siurkan.
Thalia let her guard ease and answered in a flat, indifferent tone.
"I merely slept poorly. Leave me."
A brief silence followed. The woman lingered outside the door as though hesitating over something, then ventured a careful suggestion.
"If it would not trouble you, shall I prepare a herbal tea to help you rest more easily?"
Thalia frowned. Irritation surged through her at the woman's failure to obey the order to withdraw at once.
"I don't need—"
She had been about to refuse as she always did when she suddenly closed her mouth. She had told the healer of House Taren that she would pass along the medicines the woman prepared for examination.
It was not that she truly suspected this woman of feeding her anything dubious — but there was no harm in being careful.
After a moment's consideration, Thalia muttered curtly,
"Fine. Come in."
At the permission, the healer entered the room with a small bundle in one hand.
Thalia studied her with a searching gaze. She looked as though she had just risen from bed — wearing only a loose linen nightdress beneath a gray robe. Looking faintly embarrassed, the woman tucked her tangled hair behind her ear and walked to the hearth.
"Please wait just a moment. I shall have it ready shortly."
She hung a brass pot over the fire, drew a bundle of herbs from her package, selected several varieties, and tossed them into the pot to toast lightly. Then she took up a kettle and poured in water. Before long, the fragrance of chamomile and lavender filled the air.
"There. It is ready."
She ladled a measured portion of the strongly steeped tea and carefully held out the cup. Thalia took it and looked down at the contents. A faint sweetness rose to her nose — honey, she guessed. She was quietly savoring the scent when that long, drawn-out howl came again.
Thalia let out a small sound of distress. The beast, it seemed, had resolved to cry out all night long.
"Close the window. Draw the curtains as well."
The woman obeyed at once. But the wild creature's cry slipped easily through the thick glass and the curtains. The healer offered an awkward smile.
"It would seem a wolf is desperately longing for someone in this village."
Thalia gave a short, incredulous laugh.
"Are you trying to joke with me?"
"That is not what I meant…"
Startled by the sharp response, the woman composed herself and continued calmly.
"In the East, there is a belief that those who die without receiving baptism are reborn as wild beasts. The animal cries one hears at night are said to be the songs they sing, calling to those they loved in life."
Thalia snorted.
"A soul that dies unbaptized falls into the abyss and is annihilated. Do you not even know that basic doctrine?"
"…I am well acquainted with the teachings of the Church."
A bitter cast touched the woman's mouth.
"But is it not far more comforting to believe that a loved one has returned, even in the form of a beast? The priests tend to look the other way on such faith."
Thalia's expression turned puzzled.
"Are there truly so many who die without baptism?"
"Like every citizen of the Empire, we Easterners receive baptism within a hundred days of birth. But stillborn children are not granted that blessing, are they?"
Reading the pain threaded through the woman's voice, Thalia shifted her eyes in discomfort. Had this healer lost a child of her own?
She was fretting over what to say when the woman, as if to clear the air, offered a gentle smile.
"The tea will grow cold. Please drink."
Glancing at the woman's face, Thalia drained the lukewarm tea. The healer watched her quietly, set several medicine bottles on the shelf, and left the room.
Thalia lay back on the bed and listened to the howling as it gradually grew fainter. Perhaps the woman had heard a song calling for her. Perhaps that was why she had been unable to sleep until now.
She stared blankly at the thought for a moment, then swept the idle notions from her mind. She barely had the strength to look upon her own pain. She had none left to spare for anyone else's.
Whether the herbal tea had helped or not, she slept deeply, without dreams. Waking to a freshness she could not remember feeling in ages, Thalia gazed with sleep-softened eyes at the glass window brightening toward morning.
Then she sensed a presence close by. Thinking her nanny might have brought wash water, she turned her head — and startled as cool fingers cupped her cheek.
Her eyes flew open to find Barcas seated on the edge of the bed. Blinking in a daze, Thalia hurriedly pushed herself upright. She was about to examine him from head to toe for any sign of injury when her chin was tipped upward, and without warning his lips came down upon hers.