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A loud knock rang through the training arena. Rharreth gave a growl in the back of his throat before he stepped away from her. “What?”
Melantha put another step between them, her arms cold, as Zavni stepped into the arena. Could Zavni see the way her face was flaming? Perhaps he would chalk it up to the exertion of their training.
Zavni glanced between them before he cleared his throat and focused on Rharreth. “Pardon my interruption, Your Majesties. There is a large group gathering in the courtyard. They have been asking for you...both of you.”
“Really? Why would they want to see me?” Melantha bent to pick up her staff. “Unless they have gotten so fed up with the thought of an elf as their queen that they are waiting to mob me the moment I step out the front doors?”
“If that were the case, Your Majesty, we never would have let them inside the gates of the stronghold.” Zavni shook his head, his shoulders rolling in a shrug. “They appear to all be in need of healing in some way and have come to beg for your help.”
Really? Melantha froze, gripping her staff.
“Thank you for coming to inform us.” Rharreth nodded to Zavni before he turned to Melantha. “You don’t have to heal any of them if you don’t want to.”
“I am their queen, and I am a healer. Both of those things make it my duty to at least attempt to heal them.” Melantha rubbed her fingers over the smooth hardwood of her staff, the depth of the passion for that statement surprising even herself.
“Very well.” Rharreth held out an arm to her, as if planning to escort her there himself.
Melantha stayed where she was. If she stepped outside into a large crowd and started healing people, those waiting might get restless or disorderly, depending on how desperate they were. And, from what Melantha had seen of Kostaria and the trolls living there, things were desperate for many. “Is there a place where I could meet with each person or family seeking healing individually? I would need a large table I could use for an exam table and access to some kind of juice or other beverage made from a plant in case I have to send any of them home with a more long-term healing medicine.”
“There is a meeting room on the ground floor just off the entry hall that should work.” Rharreth gave a sharp nod before he turned to Zavni. “Send Brynjar to fetch the juice and prepare the meeting room. Then, instruct the guards to arrange the people into an orderly line. You and the shield band will let each person or family in one at a time, escort them to the meeting room, then escort them out once they are finished. My queen will remain guarded at all times.”
Melantha shook her head. “No. For the privacy of my patients, I cannot have any guards in the room with me.”
Rharreth turned his hard-blue eyes on her. “This is not Tarenhiel where such delicacies are observed. You may be a healer, but you are still their queen. You will have a guard to ensure your safety. Don’t fight me on this. You won’t win.”
Melantha clenched her fists, the simmer returning in her chest. She was not about to let him dictate to her, especially not when it came to healing. “This may not be Tarenhiel, but I am still an elf healer, sworn to heal and bound by the rules I was trained in. They may have very personal ailments that they will not be comfortable sharing if I have a guard looming over my shoulder.”
“They may not be comfortable being in a room alone with an elf either.” Rharreth shot back.
That stilled her. She had not thought about that. She was used to healing other elves, who knew the rules all healers swore to obey. But these trolls, for all they were seeking her help, had more of a reason to fear her than they did to trust her. Even if she meant well, they might be more on edge being alone with her. And, they might be prone to overreact if they did not understand what she was doing, even if she tried to explain. The presence of a troll guard might reassure them.
But, she still was not about to back down all the way, not when he had used that tone of voice. “Fine, I see your point. I will allow one guard, but the guard must stand in the corner and out of the way unless there appears to be a problem. They must not interfere with my work or with the privacy of my patients.”
Rharreth bowed his head in a nod, some of the fire also leaving his eyes. “I also see your point. I will arrange to have the back half of the room and your exam table screened off with only Vriska stationed in the corner by you. I will remain just inside the door, but out of sight and out of earshot if the patient wishes to speak in lowered tones.”
It was a good compromise. And, perhaps, the presence of their king would reassure the people that he was taking their needs seriously.
Zavni cleared his throat. “Many of them came as whole families. Perhaps those not in need of healing could wait on the other side of the screen as well.”
“A good suggestion. See to it. We will meet you at the meeting room in half an hour.” Rharreth gestured to Zavni, then held out his arm to Melantha again. “While trolls respect a war-like demeanor, perhaps you would prefer to clean up first?”
Melantha swiped a strand of sweaty hair from her forehead. Another good point. She took his arm. “Yes, I would. My current state is not sanitary whatsoever.”
In short order, she and Rharreth returned to their room, and Melantha cleaned up in the waterfall room. She dressed in one of her wool dresses, though she wore her warm trousers and fur boots underneath. She also braided the sides of her hair to keep it out of her way, then tied the troll queen’s diadem so that it rested comfortably against her forehead. It would not hurt to remind those coming for her help that she was their queen as well as an elf healer.
When she was ready, Rharreth escorted her through the maze of passageways. As they neared the entry hall, Melantha could hear the hubbub of voices even through the shut, stone doors to the palace. How many trolls were out there, hoping to be healed? What would happen if she did not have enough magic to heal all of them?
Rharreth’s shield band members were waiting in the entry hall, and they nodded to him as he and Melantha swept inside.
“Quite the crowd you have attracted. They sound eager to be healed by their benevolent elf queen.” Drurvas lazily swung his battle-ax before letting it rest easily on his shoulder.
Even though his blue eyes twinkled and he was smiling, there was something about the way he said it that still seemed like an insult.
Melantha drew herself up straighter, feeling the way the diadem rested against her forehead. “Actually, I am the troll queen.”
Rharreth glanced at her, his look warm as if he approved of her response.
Zavni strode forward and gestured at a nearby doorway. “The room has been prepared.”
