I rubbed my sweaty palms on my dress, trying to remain calm and controlled. “Simus, I don’t understand. Why is he doing this?”
Simus shrugged. “What’s to understand? Does one understand the wind or predict the flame?” Simus gestured me to a chair. “There are things you do not know, little healer. Being warprize carries its own dangers. The warrior-priests and the elders will fight Keir tooth and nail over this, and you’d be in the center.”
“Do they hate Keir that much?”
Simus’s face grew serious. “Ah, that hate lies on both sides, and who is to say whose is the greater? But it matters not. Keir is the Warlord, and his will binds me. You will remain in your kingdom, and be crowned its queen. Once that is accomplished, I will return to the plains, and all will be well.”
“Simus—”
He shook his head, setting his earrings glittering in the light. “No. I will not discuss this with you.” He gestured toward two chairs by the unlit fireplace. “Come. We will have some of Anna’s good cooking and swill this drink called ‘ale’ and you will tell me of your ceremonies. Tell me what a ‘coronation’ is and what tasks you are required to perform.” He raised a finger in warning. “But I will hear no talk of anything else. Understood?” His eyes were kind but firm.
“Understood.”
Eln opened the backdoor of his clinic, and regarded Heath and me and my four bodyguards with a neutral expression. After a slight pause, he stepped aside. Heath and I slipped past him, into the stillroom, followed by two of the guards. It was a bright, cheery place, with a crackling fire in the hearth, and various potions bubbling in caldrons. I felt myself relax as I breathed in the familiar scents of medicines and tonics. I’d learned my craft here, and it felt like home.
“What’s that stink?” Heath asked, screwing up his face.
“A medicine.” Eln moved over to the table to stir a pot. He glanced at me with a questioning look. “What brings Your Majesty to my humble clinic?”
“My majesty needs to talk to you. To talk to someone I can trust.” I sat on a stool. Heath wandered the room, looking at the various bottles and jars. The two guards remained by the door.
“Trust?” Eln focused on me, at the same time he reached out and slapped Heath’s hands away from a jar.
‘Trust that you have no preconceived notions of what is best for the kingdom and for me.“
Eln gave me a sharp look before turning to Heath. “Scamp, make yourself useful. There’s a load of new wood at the back. Go cut it for me. And take those two lummoxes with you.”
Heath looked startled. “We’re protecting Lara.”
Eln snorted. “She’s worked in this clinic for many years with no fears. Your muscles are wasted in here when they could be useful. Go. Or I’ll set you to chopping herbs and stirring cauldrons.”
Heath flashed a grin. “At least we won’t be breathing in the stink.” He laughed as Eln scowled. The guards chuckled too, as they headed out the door.
“So?” Eln looked me over from head to toe. His face was still neutral.
“Eln, I know what I want. Everyone at the castle is certain that I’m best for the kingdom, and I don’t think that’s true.”
“And?”
I gritted my teeth. Eln was in teacher mode, which was very irritating. “Simus won’t talk to me. Othur and Warren have already decided what is best for the kingdom. And I’m not sure of what to do next.”
Eln stirred his pot for a moment. “If the kingdom were ill, what would you do?”
“What?”
He shot me a look. “If the kingdom were to somehow stumble into the clinic, weak and ill, what would you do first?”
“I’d ask questions, try to discover what was wrong.”
“Such as?”
Impatient, I glared at him. “What is wrong? How are you feeling? Have you urinated today? Have you vomited? How are your bowels?”
Eln kept silent and kept stirring.
“One of the rules you teach us is that before we can start to cure a patient, we must first understand the disease.” He nodded, taking a pinch of marjoram and sprinkling it into the pot. I sat for a moment, trying to apply my healing skills to my problem. “I need to know what problems my coronation solves, and see if there’s an alternative.”
He shrugged. “You need to start thinking.”
