SongHealer: from Marion Zimmer Bradley's Sword and Sorceress XI Read online

SongHealer

  from Marion Zimmer Bradley's

  Sword and Sorceress XI

  by

  Tammi Labrecque

  c 1994, 2014 Tammi Labrecque

  The first faint blush of dawn had barely touched the eastern horizon when Tyrnill softly closed her bedroom door and crept down the stone-floored corridor, boots in hand. In the kitchen, which bustled with early-morning activity, she stopped to pull her boots on and fill a leather bag with as much bread, cheese, and fruit as she could take without calling attention to herself. Breathing a sigh of relief that no one had noticed her, she slipped out the side door and headed for the stables.

  Liertha's curious whinny greeted her as she approached the mare's stall. "Hello, my pretty," Tyrnill murmured, her mellifluous voice far more subdued than was usual. She led the mare into the yard and saddled her quickly. She had filled the saddlebags the night before with a few changes of clothing and more food: dried meat, more bread and cheese, and some roots that the servants ate, which Tyrnill had never tried but assumed must be hearty fare. What money she'd been able to save in the several weeks since her decision to escape was in a pouch tied around her waist and concealed beneath her loose linen shirt. All that remained was to fill the three water bags hanging beside the stable door, which she did. With that, she was ready to ride. It was surprisingly simple, she thought as she left the stableyard in a clatter of hooves, and by the time the stableboys came to investigate the noise, she was gone.

  **

  Tyrnill halted around midday to rest Liertha and eat a hasty meal, tethering the mare to a bush at the edge of the stream they'd been following and propping herself against a tree several feet away. She hurriedly devoured a meager lunch, determined to stretch her supplies as far as possible, then sat back to consider her course of action.

  To head through the fields on their side of the stream would take them into an area too heavily populated for Tyrnill's liking, and to go back the way they'd come was plainly not an option. This left two choices: she could continue to follow the stream and be assured of enough water and enough browse to keep Liertha fed, or she could turn off into the forest that had sprung up on the other side of the stream soon after they'd joined paths with it. The decision was a difficult one; they'd be more easily followed and caught if they stayed with the stream, but better able to survive, while the chance of capture would be next to nothing in the wood, and the odds of survival not significantly higher.

  She was city-bred, unfamiliar with the ways of woodsmanship, and unaccustomed to hardship of any kind. This seemed to leave no option but to avoid the forest, but the fact that her pursuers, if indeed there were any, knew of her lack of forestry skills prompted her to untether Liertha, ford the stream, and head into the thick tangle of brush that was the beginning of the forest.

  **

  Dusk came quickly among the trees, and it was full dark in the wood some time before the last rays of sunlight would have disappeared in the world beyond it. To Tyrnill's inexperienced eye, every tree looked the same, and there were no distinguishable paths through them. The fear that she was simply wandering in circles grew in her until she could barely fight off panic, and Liertha, sensing her rider's distress, began to shy and start at every sound from the underbrush.

  It was in this condition that they finally stumbled upon the clearing. It was small, only large enough for the tiny cabin and tinier vegetable patch beside it, but it was lovely, well-cultivated, and somehow welcoming. As Tyrnill moved Liertha around to the front of the cabin, the door opened, and an aging woman stood on the threshold, beaming.

  "Well, hello," she called cheerfully. "I thought you'd never get here!"

  Tyrnill blinked in confusion but could think of nothing to say.

  The woman chuckled. "Tie your horse beside the house -- the side away from the garden, please -- and have yourself a wash at the well there, then we'll see about getting you settled." She disappeared back into the cabin, shutting the door behind her.

  Well, she's obviously mistaken me for someone else, Tyrnill thought, but perhaps she can help me. If she lives here, she must know how to get out of this thrice-damned forest. She obeyed the woman's instructions, tethering Liertha near the well, and performing a spare wash as quickly as she could. Then she headed back to the front of the house and knocked firmly on the door. It swung open immediately, and the woman peered out.

  "Oh, my," she grinned. "You needn't knock, dear -- this is as much your place as mine! Come right in."

  Tyrnill followed her into the cabin, noting at once that it was fanatically clean. The room was fairly small, containing only a table and two chairs, with a basin on a sideboard at the side nearest the door and a fireplace in the opposite wall. There were two doors on the wall to the right of the doorway Tyrnill now stood in, both of them closed.

  "Now, my dear, let me show you what's what. Those cupboards over the fireplace have a bit of food in them, just some dried things, and the herbs I use for cooking. Of course, someone will bring fresh food around every day or two, even a bit of meat once in a while, but I like to have a bite or two put by, you know." The woman looked to Tyrnill as if for confirmation, and Tyrnill nodded dumbly, caught up in this woman's vitality. The woman smiled. "Forgive me if I go on; it's been some time since I've had the chance to really talk to anyone. Well, then -- over here's the washbasin. We must keep everything scrupulously clean, you understand, if we're to do any good. And under," here she stooped to push aside a curtain which had hidden several deep shelves, "we have the rest of the herbs, and some bandaging. Clean rags, of course, to wipe up any blood, or whatever." Blood? Tyrnill blinked again. The woman grinned engagingly. "We can't very well fix anything if we don't even know what the problem is, and we can't discover what the problem is if we can't see anything, right?" Tyrnill was mystified and finally said so.

  "I'm sorry, but I don't understand at all. I think -- that is . . . " She searched for the right words but came up blank.

  "You really don't know what I'm talking about?" The woman looked confounded. "I simply hadn't thought . . . . Of course, Power as strong as yours would naturally seek out other Power, but I never thought you were unaware of it." She frowned. "My dear," she began, very slowly and solemnly, "have you any idea what I am? Or what you are, for that matter?"

  Tyrnill shook her head. "I'm certain this is nothing more than a misunderstanding. You see, I'm not whoever it is you've been expecting. I'm only here because I got lost in the wood."

  "Lost in the wood indeed!" The woman laughed. "You may well have become lost, my dear, but that is most decidedly not the reason you found me. And you are, without a doubt, exactly the person I've been expecting."

  "I don't see how --"

  "I can see that perfectly now, and I don't mind telling you I feel a complete fool for not seeing your confusion to begin with." The woman pulled out a chair and dropped into it. "Here, sit down," she commanded, indicating the second chair, and Tyrnill obediently sat. "Now, I suppose I should start from the beginning. My name is Raelenne."

  "Mine's --"

  "Tyrnill; I already know that."

  Tyrnill's eyes widened. "But how?" she blurted.

  "Among other talents, I have more than a little of what my mother always called 'Knowing.' Primarily, though, I am a Healer. A SongHealer, to be precise." Raelenne waved a hand at Tyrnill. "As, of course, are you."

  Tyrnill shook her head and protested vehemently. "I'm sorry to contradict you, but I'm no such thing. I haven't a shred of Magical ability in my entire body -- why, you can ask any of my
teachers! They were going to force me to become a servant at the school because I haven't any relatives to speak for me, and they said I couldn't just be allowed to leave, now that I knew where the school was." She was talking rapidly now, relieved to be telling her story. "It's supposed to be a great secret, you see, and the testing for admission very rigorous. But they just admitted me, with no more than a scan to see if I had the potential, because my parents were both such powerful sorcerers." Here she faltered for a moment. "They died, you see, in some sort of fight, and the people from the school came for me the next day. And I stayed there for six months, and I tried -- I really did -- but I couldn't learn any of what they wanted to teach me. And they said they're made a mistake -- that I had plenty of potential, but I would never have the ability to use it. And they said --"

  Raelenne broke into her tirade. "Well, they were fools. You will certainly never be a sorceress, but you will be -- are -- something much more valuable. Tell me, did either of your parents have musical ability?"

  "Oh, yes," Tyrnill said, remembering. "Father always said Mother's singing could put the birds to shame -- and he was right. And he could play any instrument he got his hands on. It was part of their Magic -- I mean, part of how they made it work."

  "And did these idiots at your school know that?"

  "They must have; Mother and Father were both trained there."

  "Fools! Now you listen to me." Raelenne's face was almost harsh in the light from the fire. "You are going to be an extremely competent Healer, much better than even myself, and I've been called 'the best' more than once. The Power you hold is so great that I am literally awestruck. Once you learn how to use it, you will be by far and away the most talented Healer I've ever seen."

  Tyrnill shook her head. "I don't know anything about Healing -- I wouldn't even know how to begin learning."

  "That's what I'm here for! Frankly, you need someone as good as myself to teach you; I wouldn't trust anyone else to be able to manage it. Untrained, you could actually do a lot of damage. This kind of teaching can be dangerous, to tell the truth."

  Tyrnill's eyes widened even further. "Oh," she breathed, "I can't learn to do anything dangerous. I don't have enough control, enough concentration -- all my teachers said so --"

  "I don't doubt that they did," Raelenne responded acidly. "I have yet to meet the person with enough control to learn something they simply haven't the Talent for."

  "Raelenne, I really can't --"

  Raelenne took Tyrnill's hands in her own and smiled encouragingly. "I can assure you that what I am going to teach you isn't going to hurt you or frighten you, as long as you possess the will to control it. You must remember, always, that you rule your abilities; they cannot rule you unless you allow it."

  "I'm not sure --" Tyrnill began.

  "I know that you are uncertain; that is precisely the problem. In what you are about to learn, even a moment's wavering will destroy what you hope to accomplish." Raelenne's smile had gone, and she regarded Tyrnill solemnly. "I say these things far from lightly, for I have seen it happen. And sometimes it is not only the work which is destroyed; it is the worker."

  Tyrnill shook her head. "I'm not capable of taking on that kind of responsibility, Raelenne."

  "Not only are you capable, you are uniquely suited to it," Raelenne responded emphatically. "Anyone with Power as great as yours must not be allowed to let fear guide her. You will overcome your fear. You must accept the abilities you've been given, else you risk ending up like your teachers. What difference lies between their refusal to accept you and your refusal to accept a Talent you didn't expect?" She held up a hand to silence Tyrnill's objections. "None. Such a Talent as yours is rare, but not unheard of, and knowing that both of your parents were superb musicians, those who took it upon themselves to train you should have looked for it. But they wanted a traditional sorceress and turned their backs on your real potential. You must not betray your true worth as they did, Tyrnill, lest you be guilty of worse negligence than they."

  Tyrnill swallowed around a lump in her throat and asked in a small voice, "Do you really believe that? After some of the things they said, I didn't figure I's ever be much good for anything."

  Raelenne rose and came around the table to take Tyrnill into her arms. With a sigh, she rested her chin on the girl's head. "Make no mistake about it -- once trained, you will be worth twice all of them put together. I can promise you that."

  **

  There followed the most satisfying period of Tyrnill's short life. By day, she tended the garden, cleaned the small cottage, took long walks, and sometimes went with Raelenne to watch the healer tend to the other people who lived in the wood. These people, in return for Raelenne's services, brought most of the supplies, including food, that the two women needed to survive.

  By night, Tyrnill studied, learning everything there was to know about the body: how it functioned, how it was put together, and how to diagnose all manner of diseases and afflictions. She learned the names of all the herbs Raelenne used in Healing, where to find them, and how to prepare them. She learned how to bind wounds and broken limbs as well as how to prevent and treat infection. Raelenne was also training her in music: she learned what timbre and pitch meant, and the array of notes and scales she needed to arrange into music to accomplish a Healing. It was the first musical training she'd had, and she blossomed; her voice grew sure and, like her father before her, she could play any instrument she was given. Raelenne often expressed amazement at how talented her charge was. "You surpass me, truthfully," she would say. "I ought to be jealous." This made Tyrnill laugh every time she heard it

  Finally the day came when Raelenne pronounced her ready to try her own hand at Healing. I can't teach you anything more, Tyrnill. It's past time for you to gain some experience, which is a far better teacher than I could hope to be."

  **

  It was several days before the opportunity arose. Tyrnill was weeding in the vegetable patch when the rider burst into the clearing, and she straightened to greet him. "A good day to you, sire."

  "And to you, lady. Is the Healer at home?" he queried anxiously.

  Raelenne had already appeared at the door of the house. "What's the problem, Kiersen?"

  "My girl, ma'am - she's fallen out of a tree. Her leg's broken." His face was pinched with worry.

  Raelenne nodded. "Tyrnill, come inside and gather up what you'll need." Tyrnill scurried into the house to collect bandaging, pieces of wood to splint the leg if it was indeed broken, and the herbs she would need to treat a broken leg as well as those for head and internal injuries. Raelenne had explained that it was best to plan for the worst possible injury because the amateur diagnosis of those who came to fetch the Healer was not always correct or comprehensive enough. Within minutes, she was back outside, saddling Liertha. Raelenne had already clambered up behind Kiersen; as soon as Tyrnill was mounted, they left the clearing at a gallop, with her following close behind.

  **

  Raelenne spoke slowly and liltingly. "Close your eyes and do exactly what I tell you."

  Tyrnill listened carefully, blocking out the sound of the girl's soft weeping.

  "Remember the relaxation exercises we've been practicing -- breathe deeply, recognize what's going on in your body. Be aware of your heartbeat, your breathing, your temperature, and then forget them, and concentrate on hers."

  Tyrnill shifted her focus to the girl, and the harmony in her own body contrasted sharply with the discord of the child's. The music in the girl as broken, and Tyrnill saw how the music could be fixed. It was the broken leg that had caused a tear in the music,. Tyrnill began to hum softly, a soothing melody that came between the child and the pain, and then to sing, as she reached for the leg, holding her hands only inches from it. She sang of broken music put once again to rights, of young girls running, of the harmony that had once lived in the child, and would again. She sang of the way blood vessels connect, and tissue closes over bones that have been put b
ack into place almost seamlessly. She sand the song of the child's body, picking up the faltering notes and returning them to their proper place in the melody, pulling the tattered pieces of the girl's music back together with the force of her will and her voice.

  It was several minutes before she became once again aware of herself. Her heart was racing, and she was drenched in sweat, but the girl's leg was straight again, the angry tear in her flesh where the end of the bone had protruded fading to a dark scab, then a reddened scar. "That should heal in a few days," Tyrnill said to the collected family. "It's going to scar; I can't help that, and I can't do bone-Healing, so I'm going to have to put a splint on her. She'll have to stay off her leg until I'm sure the bone has set properly. Anyway, it's just as well that I can't do bone-Healing -- it tends to leave bones weaker than they were before. This way she'll be good as new, even if she does have to wait a little longer." She smiled reassuringly at the relieved faces around her. "I'll get her splinted up, and then we should all give her a chance to sleep. She's using a lot of energy, healing as quickly as she is."

  Raelenne nodded approvingly. "You did very well, my dear," she commended, as the others cleared out of the room. "You're a bit slow, but that will change with time, and you were actually much faster than I expected in coming out of your healing trance. I think it won't be too long before you can Heal without having to trance at all."

  Tyrnill flushed from the praise. "You think so?" she asked softly.

  Raelenne laughed. "Yes, my modest little apprentice, I definitely think so."

  **

  That was in early fall, and Tyrnill stayed through the winter snows, continuing to learn and progressing as well and as rapidly as Raelenne had anticipated. So it came, that on a day very early in spring, when the trees had just begun to tend once again to green, Raelenne told Tyrnill that it was time for her to go.

  "I've taught you everything I can," she informed her young charge, with more than a hint of regret. "There are plenty of things you still don't know, and the only way you'll learn them is to travel."