Another tale of Ligia

Jump ahead now, past Marcus, past the sunken city. We finally reached the main stronghold for Ginnison's order, but the Mongols are there, too. This takes place just hours after we've fought off Mongol treachery and learned that Tamarind is really the daughter of the Khan of the Golden Horde. In the end her love for Bybars was stronger than her loyalty to her father and brother, but there were some very tense moments and some members of the party weren't able to forgive and forget all that quickly even though Tam was very nearly killed by her own brother when she chose to stand with us.

Ligia tapped softly, a moment later Bybars opened the door enough to peer warily out. Seeing her, he slipped out into the corridor. "Anything new?" she asked in a whisper.

He shook his head. "She's wakened a couple of times but only for a moment. Caelwyn thinks the healing stone is drawing most of her energy to do its work. But it is working." He rubbed a hand across gritty eyes and unshaven chin. "I thought you guarded that Mongol wizard."

"Creelan and I trade off every couple of hours--Ginnison's orders. Bybars, let me sit with her for a while. You need to rest."

"I can't leave her, Ligia." His voice was hoarse with weariness and worry. "I'll ask them for a pallet in here so I can sleep a little."

"Listen, I've had them move your gear into this room across the way. There's fresh, hot water to bathe and shave, and fresh clothes. You're still wearing the same bloody rags from last night. I'll stay right beside her until you return, I promise." When he hesitated she smiled and lightly slapped his rough cheek. "You look like the very devil. She sees you like this and her heart will stop."

His answering smile was faint but he nodded. "A few moments then." With a last troubled look over his shoulder he slipped across the hall and disappeared through the opposite door.

Ligia moved noiselessly across the room to the chair where Bybars had kept his vigil. Her heart caught in her throat at sight of Tamarind lying fearfully still, pale as an ivory doll. A swirl of night-black hair framed a face leached of all color, where ebony brows and lashes stood out in startling contrast. The slight movement of the sheets across her chest was the only indication that Tamarind was indeed alive. Her right hand lay outside the bedclothes, an incongruously bright silk scarf binding her limp hand closed around the healing charm.

The chair scraped slightly as Ligia sat. Tamarind stirred and a moment later her almond eyes flickered open. Reflexively turning to Bybars' chair she tensed when she saw Ligia instead.

"He's across the hall. I'm sitting here only while he makes himself more presentable" Ligia hoped her voice sounded calm and reassuring. "Shall I call him?"

After a long moment Tamarind's response was a barely perceptible movement of her head back and forth on the pillow but her eyes remained wary.

"Are you in pain? Shall I fetch Caelwyn?"

Again the smallest shake of her head.

"Be easy Tam, I'm not here for your blood." Ligia shifted uneasily in the chair, unnerved by the shadow of fear on her friend's face. Fear of her. "And if anyone else is they will have to deal with me. You made it clear where your heart is." she smiled at the other woman. "Even Ginnison has more on his mind than being angry with you. The focus of his wrath at the moment is Grisha, who has gone from comrade-in-arms to the worst scoundrel unhung in just the past hour. Grisha has wisely decided to leave the castle for parts unknown."

Slowly, the apprehension faded, though whether due to Ligia's light words or simple exhaustion was impossible to tell. Then Tamarind's eyes went to the jug on a table across the room. "Please..." the word was more breath than sound.

"Of course," Ligia quickly poured a cup and brought it to the narrow bed. Kneeling, she slid her arm under Tamarind's shoulders, this time chuckling as the tension returned to the other woman's face. "I actually do know what I'm doing, Tam. You'll not be mauled, nor will you choke."

Deftly, gently, the patient was settled against a strong shoulder and the cup brought to her lips. "Go slowly and take your time. That's good...now rest a moment, then try a bit more...you see, I have nursed more than that great baby of a cat. As a novate I spent more than my share of duty turns in the Infirmary. I despised kitchen duty but quite liked the old pensioned Sisters who were generally the only patients, so I would trade turns as often as I could. That sort of maneuvering was usually frowned on but both the Healing Sisters and Kitcheners turned a blind eye in my case." Ligia's voice dropped to a confidential whisper. "I was considered something of a menace in the kitchens."

A flicker of a smile crossed Tamarind's face. Ligia, who by general consensus was strictly forbidden to contribute anything to the party's meals beyond game for the pot and wood for the fire, continued. "Even after I was chosen to be a Hunter and paired with Tala I would visit when I could. I loved to hear the old Sisters tell stories. Can you drink a little more? You've nearly drained the cup. Caelwyn will be pleased.”

Ligia faltered, as though debating whether to continue. When she spoke again her words were slow, weighted with the sadness of memory. "From the time I was a child my dream was to be a Priestess and a Hunter. I was very happy in the Temple. Even the night I learned the demoness Telvelda had…usurped and poisoned the Order I never intended to leave Nova Roma. I would have kept silent until I found a way to convince the Senate or a Tribune of what I'd found. I…I though we would dig out the corruption at its heart then make the Order whole again. But Tala and I were discovered. We fled the Temple, and within hours the Hunters--my sisters--were ordered to find us and...kill us…on sight. They were told I'd defiled the Sanctum and dishonored the Order." Her voice now was a whisper of pain, tight with bitterness. "I could not bear to raise a sword against my them, so our only choice was to stay ahead of the pursuit.” There was was a long silence, each woman lost in her own memories of loss and betrayal. Then Ligia continued, unsteady but determined that Tamarind hear the tale.

“And we managed that for several years, until that night at the warehouse in Evergem. You remember, you were there. If I hadn’t fought the Hunters then all of you would have died with me, as well as any hope I have of ever winning the souls of my countrymen free from Telvelda. Even so, I very nearly couldn’t. I knew them all, you see—Octavia and her cat Nina, Drusilla and Palo, all the others. They had been my friends, the sisters of my heart. They couldn’t know how they had been lied to, that their orders came from a blood-drinking demoness. I killed them, and they died thinking I had betrayed them. For awhile I thought the pain of it would kill me as well.” She fell silent, moving the cup away and lowering Tamarind carefully back into the pillows. Adjusting the sheet, smoothing the coverlet, tucking the scarf more securely around the stone pressed into the limp hand took several more seconds. Finally she found her voice again. Blue violet eyes met night-dark ones. “I understand what it cost to make the the choice you did.”

Tamarind’s free hand moved, inched out to touch Ligia’s. For a moment each woman’s face mirrored the sorrow and knowledge in the other’s. But already Tamarind’s eyes were closing, the magic of the charm in her hand pulling her inexorably back into healing sleep.

Ligia's lips twisted in a bitter smile. Powerful though is was, she knew there were some kinds of pain not even the Fair Folks' stone could heal.