Ravens, Owls and a nightingale

20. Peace & Quiet

Schean knew he was making a tremendous fuss, but it was a consolation of sorts to know that he wasn't making it all by himself. Of course he shouldn't have been participating quite as efficiently as he did, but then, such considerations were wholly secondary right now. What mattered was The Operation at hand, the one that had attracted an altogether extraordinary number of people to add their input to the situation.

The suggestion had sounded so simple and straightforward when first made by Lord Rhodan, now absent, and supported by the Wizard, very much present. The two men had agreed that it would be best to move Karos out of the Ghost Tower and into his own room once more. For one thing, he was now out of danger and thus didn't absolutely require the Wizard's constant presence, or perhaps it was more accurate to say that the Wizard finally dared let the young man out of his eyes. For another, the room Karos and Schean shared was a far better place for him in many ways: not so high up, within easier reach from the kitchen and outside, and so on.

Thirdly, Lord Rhodan had told Schean that he could well make use of his nursing skills — which the Wizard had obviously praised to the man — and take care of his roommate from now on. The Wizard had been a busy man these past days, preparing medications and stocking the surgeons who'd followed Deleon's troops to battle, and would continue to be so for quite some time. It had already become obvious that his room, full of fumes and smells arising from the concoctions, was no place for a patient, and besides, he needed to be able to concentrate fully on his work. He could do that far better once he had Karos out of his hands.

Move Karos... it had sounded very simple indeed, but carrying out the plan was another matter. The Wizard's room was in the uppermost floor of the Ghost Tower, which meant a dizzying number of steps in a tightly winding spiral staircase. Luckily there was the door opening to the wall-top, about two-thirds up the tower, so it wasn't necessary to climb all those stairs, but it was a considerable number of steps anyway. Then the open-air stretch along the wall, in through the side door of the other tower, and another few steps up once more to reach the room above the Ranea's chamber. No, it wasn't exactly next door.

What made things even trickier was the fact that Karos had to be carried all the way. He was far too weak to even sit up for many moments at a time, let alone stand, and carrying him in a sitting position would be very difficult if he wasn't able to hold on to his helpers. Yet, even though he had shrunken visibly during his illness, nothing could change the fact that he was both tall and strongly built, and not exactly lightweight anyway. Maneuvering the stretcher up and down the narrow, winding stairs, all the time trying to keep it horizontal enough to ensure that the patient didn't get too uncomfortable, was ample work for two strong men at a time. Another two were standing by, ready to lend a hand if necessary and if they could squeeze close enough.

The men in question were doing a good job, nor would they have dared to be sloppy under the hawk-eyes of both the Wizard and the chatelaine who were jointly overseeing the operation. The Lischell and Wizard, Schean, Karos strapped to his stretcher, and the four bearers, were already something of a crowd in the limited space, but they weren't the only ones there. At least Mioll had the sense to keep himself to the background... But the Ladies Benella and Bailenn and their brother Bengor were all hovering about, arguing with each other about which one of them was the worst offender, and who knew best which way the other two should be going at any given time.

Schean couldn't really blame them for their fussing, however. It was now a few days since Lord Rhodan had ridden out of the gate with his army, every man armed to the teeth and itching to fight. The castle echoed emptiness, even more so than during the clash with Moydherr. This was truly serious — the opposing troops were the strongest that Deleon had ever faced, and their express purpose was to annihilate Deleon, to take over the castle and its lands. The enormous makeshift village that had sprung up just outside the walls added to the atmosphere of urgency inside. In the circumstances it was no wonder that the three youngsters were enthusiastically throwing themselves into any enterprise that might let them think about something else for a while. Anything to concentrate on, anything to distract them from speculation and anxiety, anything but just sitting and wondering what might be happening elsewhere at that very moment.

The men who carried Karos were sweating, and the one currently lower down on the stairs swore aloud when his hand nearly slipped. The reserve man immediately shouldered him aside and grabbed the handles, receiving a grateful grimace from the bulky servant who was holding the upper end of the stretcher. Together the three managed to negotiate the last steps without overturning their burden, reached the last landing, and were finally inside the right room.

Karos was moved onto the bed and covered with a blanket while the men gratefully trudged off with the stretcher, wiping their faces. The others gathered around the bed, eager to immediately start entertaining the patient, but Merania and the Wizard told them in polite but clear terms to bugger off. Entertainment could come later, what Karos needed right now was peace and rest. There were some long faces, but Bengor quickly decided to play the Lord and declared that they would all be leaving now; they'd be back later, as soon as Karos felt like having some company.

They hadn't been exactly noisy, and yet, when the door closed after the three youngsters, the room fell quiet enough to make several sighs of relief clearly audible. Merania fondly checked once more that her son was comfortable, then departed to look after her domain, but the Wizard lingered some time longer with the minstrels to make sure that Karos wouldn't show any ill effects from the ordeal.

Schean sidled closer as well and peered a little anxiously down at the patient — his patient now. Karos looked totally exhausted and seemed to be slumbering. The Wizard felt his pulse and looked satisfied.

"I'm sure you'll manage now," he said and turned to Schean who nodded, looking much more confident than he felt. "He'll be sleeping for quite a while, no doubt, and what he needs after that is something to drink and to eat — very little at a time, but frequently. And plenty of rest. If you feel at all uncertain about anything, come and get me."

"I will," Schean promised readily. That was indeed an easy promise to give; he and Mioll had spent a lot of time in the older man's company over the past days, and while Mioll had mainly been the one to chat the Wizard up, Schean's fear for the man had also dispersed quickly. He was almost ashamed of his earlier trepidation. The Wizard was no monster or supernatural being. He was a human, a man around fifty years of age, extremely learned and wise in many ways that approached the mystical, yet friendly and kind to the minstrels whom he treated as his full equals.

"Good." The Wizard nodded and stuck his hands into the wide sleeves of his robe. "I'm sure you'll have no problems. And this is a far better place for him, so much airier and all. Just make sure that the Ranea and his sisters won't wear poor Karos out completely. I know they mean well, but they can't understand that crawling back from death's door is an arduous process. Not even the Ranea," he added with a shake of his head. "He never was quite this ill himself, and luckily those poisons were of the kind that I could do quite a lot about. But this is no poison to which I could give an antidote and make Karos well again."

"I'll help Schean," Mioll put in. "You need not worry, we'll see to it that he gets the peace too!"

When the robed figure had shuffled out, Schean took a deep breath and looked at Mioll, squaring his shoulders.

"Oh my goodness," he mumbled switching instinctively to their own language. "Will I cope?"

"Sure you will," Mioll answered and gestured towards the window recess. "You heard what the Wizard said. Okay, he'll be a lot more work than the young Master, but not so much different anyway."

"Still!" Schean plopped down on the rug-covered seat and frowned. "For one thing, I can't help this feeling that he really truly doesn't like me at all. And I'll have to feed him, wash him..."

"Well, he won't have any option," Mioll said reasonably, following his younger friend. "The Wizard is busy, this is according to the Lord's orders, and besides you know how to do all that. And hey, he can't dislike you too much — you've been sharing this room for months now and he still hasn't bitten your head off!"

"Some consolation you are," Schean grumbled.

"Doing my best to cheer you up, little brother!" Mioll granted him a bright grin. "Anyone ever told you that you worry too much?"

Schean just about pouted at that. "I think I've heard that a few times before."

"What you need is more self-confidence." Mioll's tone was decisive. "There's no lack of that as far as music is concerned, but otherwise..."

"I'll be a lot more self-confident once I've survived this nursing duty, I bet!"

Mioll chuckled. "I think you just might, in fact... and at least you'll have something to do, apart from waiting and praying that Deleon will emerge victorious even from this campaign."

Schean's face fell serious.

"I'm terribly afraid," he confessed. "In a way this is a good thing, that's true. At least I'll be busy."

"While I'll devote myself to keeping the gentlefolks entertained," Mioll agreed. "No denying that I'm totally petrified if I stop to think of it for too long a time. The news, from what I managed to hear before the army set out, weren't too encouraging."

"Let's not talk about that!" Schean pleaded. "Please, Mioll. Anything but that."

"No, let's not," Mioll agreed. He stretched his arms, then gave his friend a sympathetic glance. "But dear me. Only now I realize that I'll most likely have to sing and play all by myself tonight, and on quite a few nights to come. I don't suppose you can leave him alone for very long at a time."

"Probably not," Schean sighed. "Too bad. But you'll manage just fine on your own, I'm sure."

"I will. Even though the Misses will be grumpy now that they can't even go riding!" Mioll smiled. "Miss Benella in particular. That girl is a real wildfire. I swear that if I had any real interest in girls, I'd be nursing a proper crush in her!"

"Why don't you compose a few ballads of her anyway?" Schean joked. "You know, like the ones by Liann Eideth?"

"Ah yes — 'Lover's Lament' or 'Praising My Lady'," Mioll grinned. "And soon there'll be suitors flocking here from all over the place. Hmm, I just might do that! Though I guess I'd better wait a couple of years, until she reaches a marrigeable age."

"You'd better, or else quite a few suitors will leave this place with an imprint of Lord Rhodan's boot sole on their behinds!"

They both laughed at the image, then sobered up, because it inevitably reminded them of the fact that the Lord was away and might never return alive. Mioll bit his lip and began to recite lines from one of the rapturous songs they'd been talking about, Schean eagerly joined in, and soon they were totally engrossed in the composition of a ballad about the fair and wild Lady Benella, with all names discreetly withheld for the moment.

Time flew by as they debated various turns of phrase, lamented certain limitations of the Revnashi language and praised some of its intricacies, then drifted on to discussing the people and their peculiarities. At last Mioll suddenly realized that light was clearly waning outside the window, and pushed himself up with an apologetic smile.

"Well, I'd better be going. The gentlefolks are sure to require some music and stories by now."

He pulled his gleaming, ashen mane over one shoulder, straightened his tunic and slipped out, closing the door softly after him.

Schean sat for a while on the window seat, then rose as well and padded quietly to the bed. He blinked in surprise as he saw that Karos had woken up and looked more alert than Schean had seen him ever since he'd left for the nearly-fateful scouting mission. As the minstrel stepped closer, those dark, inscrutable eyes turned to look up at him.

"You're awake!" Schean sat cautiously on the edge of the bed. "Are you thirsty?"

Karos nodded a little, and Schean picked up a mug from the table. He helped Karos take a few gulps of the honeyed liquid, then gently lowered the black, curly head back on the pillow. That hair was fascinating... he wanted to pull the curls straight and see how they'd coil back when released. "That enough?"

Karos nodded again, then sighed. "What was that?"

His hoarse, quiet voice made a surge of fierce protectiveness rush through Schean once more, the waves lapped back and forth inside him and made his throat constrict. Seeing the big, strong young man on the bed like that, pale and weak like someone drowned, made his insides ache, and he quickly pushed the disconcerting emotions aside with a frown.

"What was what?"

"You talked." Karos' head jerked minutely towards the door. "You... and him. You talked. I didn't understand a thing."

Schean was astonished and ashamed. So Karos had actually heard them conversing in their own language? Mioll and he, like all minstrels, were usually pretty careful to use it only when alone. The Revnashi generally treated the itinerant musicians and news-bearers very well, but they were people who tended to be always involved in some power play or another. It wasn't a good idea to flaunt the fact that the minstrels were able exchange any kind of secrets with each other even under the prominent noses of their Revnashi patrons, with said patrons none the wiser about what was going on. That would only make everybody's life more difficult.

And now the two of them had spoken it while Karos was in the same room, assuming that he wouldn't hear. How inconsiderate and careless of them...

"That — that was our own language. I'm sorry, I — we thought you were sleeping. I hope we didn't disturb you."

"You weren't too loud. Didn't wake me up."

"Good." Schean swallowed, not knowing what to do. He was sitting on the bed beside Karos, feeling unexpectedly awkward and clueless. He knew all the things nursing the man would involve, but right now there seemed to be no need to do anything much. So what now? To keep him company? How?

Karos solved at least part of the problem for him. "You speak a different language?"

"That's right," Schean confirmed and saw the black brows crumpling a little.

"But you speak perfect Revnashi."

"We learn it. From those who have spent years over here and then returned home."

"Home?"

"To... to the south." Schean moistened his lips nervously. "It's very far away."

Karos nodded and sighed, obviously displeased with his own feebleness. "You even make songs in Revnashi."

"Well, the Revnashi wouldn't understand them if we didn't!" Schean grinned a little. Then his heart skipped a few beats when he saw the ghost of a smile that hovered on Karos' lips, and he promptly forgot what he'd been going to say next.

"I didn't understand a word," Karos continued unfazed, speaking quietly but clearly. "But it sounded nice."

"You have marvelously good hearing," Schean observed, trying to calm his heart down. "We weren't quite next to your bed, and at least I don't think we spoke very loud."

"No. I told you. Not loud, but I heard you. Sounded different."

Schean smiled. "It does... But I think you might eat a little something now that you're awake. I'll go get some. Any wishes?"

For the next hour or so he had no problems with how to spend his time. After fetching food, feeding Karos and helping the patient when he needed to relieve himself, Schean got to enjoy the pleasure of just telling some servants what he needed. The Lischell, wanting to make sure that Schean didn't need to leave Karos alone too much, had sent them around to help, and thus Schean could just ask them to tidy the room, to bring in hot water and towels, and to take everything out afterwards.

Karos was mortified at having to be assisted with every single thing, much more so than with the Wizard around. Schean could understand that, knowing that he'd practically lived with the man since he'd been a boy, and tried to be as quick and businesslike as he only could. That was just as well for another reason, too: he couldn't help the thoughts that darted through his head, or the crazy feelings that tried to make his hands tremble, when he as much as looked at Karos. Even in his current condition, Karos was undeniably handsome, and washing him all over with a warm cloth was a real ordeal. Schean concentrated on breathing evenly, making sure that the washcloth wasn't too wet, and thinking only and expressly about the patient's comfort.

Finally he covered Karos once more and busied himself with rinsing the washcloth and seeing that everything was ready to be taken out. He felt awkward ordering the servants around, and yet immensely relieved because he didn't have to do all that by himself, and said as much when a manservant arrived to fetch the stuff. The man merely smiled to him.

"Don't you worry 'bout such things, minstrel," he said, "sure we'll help you look after the Lischell's son. Good boy he always was, and look where we might be now if it hadn't been for him!"

Schean nodded and sat again on the bedside. He had let Karos rest after the humiliation of being washed like a baby, and now the young man seemed a lot more composed but still pretty much awake. That surprised Schean.

"Aren't you sleepy?" he asked.

"A little," Karos replied. "But I want to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"Your language."

"What about it?"

"Say something in it. I want to hear."

Schean groaned inwardly — of course Karos would still remember it — and thought for a while, then spoke. Karos looked at him intently.

"What did you say?"

"I said, 'I live in Deleon, which is a big castle in western Revnash'."

"Say it again."

Schean did, and Karos sighed. "It sounds strange. But you speak Revnashi in the same way. Like you're singing."

Schean gaped. That was no doubt true; it had been a tough job for him to understand that in Revnashi intonation hardly mattered, and in most cases you could easily tell where a word began because the stress was there. He knew himself that he tended to stress words a little differently, had been more aware of it ever since meeting Mioll who had spent a far longer time in these parts and was used to speaking mostly Revnashi. Karos sure was quick to pick up things.

"You're right," he admitted just a tad reluctantly. "Mioll speaks Revnashi better than I do."

"I like the way you speak it. Sounds nice."

Schean swallowed. "Thanks."

Karos blinked sleepily and yawned, then smiled a little.

"You must sleep now," Schean told him. "You'll get well again sooner if you rest enough."

"Doing nothing but resting," Karos muttered moodily but his eyes didn't want to stay open any more. "Play something."

Schean fetched his lute and tuned it quickly, heart pounding, then launched into a melody that suddenly just bubbled up. He played softly at first, but soon the piece gained more force and he listened to it in wonder. It was nothing he'd ever heard anyone else play before, and yet he knew exactly how it went, what would come next, what it needed to sound like. He also knew he'd be able to play it again, and again, even without writing it down anywhere. In places it sounded almost like a lullaby, then gathered strength once more, only to drift back into an enticing, dreamy rhythm.

He held his breath when he reached the end, listened to the chord still echoing inside the wooden body of the lute and smiled. Karos was sleeping peacefully, his breathing even, a little more color on his face. Schean was happy Karos wasn't awake to ask for more, for he wasn't sure if he could play anything right now. The melody still whirled in his head, and he didn't need to wonder what to call it, because he already knew its name: Noriet.

Schean stood slowly up and padded to the window recess. He needed to calm down.