Part 31 (1/2)
”Please, come in.” Andrei stood aside to let the missionaries enter the hut.
Andrei and Aude stood watching as Pere Blaize knelt by Enguerrand's pallet and placed his hand on the king's brow, then took his pulse and raised one of his eyelids. Enguerrand seemed barely conscious, murmuring some incoherent words as the priest examined him. Andrei saw Aude bite her underlip in her agitation. She really cares for Enguerrand, in spite of the ordeal he's subjected her to. She really cares for Enguerrand, in spite of the ordeal he's subjected her to.
”What is your name?” Blaize asked his patient. Enguerrand muttered a few disjointed syllables.
”He's delirious. He doesn't even remember his own name,” Aude whispered to Andrei, but just as Andrei was inwardly debating the wisdom of revealing their true ident.i.ties, she blurted out, ”He's called Enguerrand.”
”Well, Enguerrand, can you hear me?” said Pere Blaize. ”I'm going to give you some physic to try to bring down your fever. It'll taste bitter, but you must drink the whole draft, or it won't work. It's made from the bark of a tree that grows in these islands.” He opened his coffer and took out phials of a cloudy liquid.
While Aude watched anxiously, Andrei turned to Abbe Laorans.
”How long did it take you to get here, Abbe?”
”The news reached us ten days ago. We set out straightaway and, thanks to calm seas and a good wind, here we are.”
”Abbe, could I speak to you in private?”
”By all means.” Abbe Laorans followed him out into the heat.
”d.a.m.ned proselytizers,” said a drawling voice. Andrei looked round to see Oskar leaning against the side of the hut, arms folded.
”There's no need for that, Alvborg. These good men have come a long way to help us.”
”Oh, I don't doubt that they have. What better way to notch up a few more converts on their heavenly slates?”
”Please excuse his rudeness.” Andrei had become accustomed to Oskar's constant cynicism. ”We've been through a... a traumatic experience. None of us has quite recovered yet.”
”Indeed,” said Laorans, looking keenly at Andrei. ”Strange occurrences have been reported in these waters. First, the darkness. Then the unexplained lights in the sky. The islanders spoke to us of winged daemons and dragons. But then, they're very superst.i.tious at the best of times.”
Andrei nodded, not wanting to be drawn out on the subject.
Pere Blaize came out from the hut. ”He's sleeping. My suggestion is that we wait for his fever to break, then take you all to the mission. But he's too ill to be moved yet.”
”Do you think he'll pull through?”
”It's difficult to tell at this stage.” Blaize looked grave. ”His const.i.tution has been weakened, maybe due to an earlier bout of fever in childhood. I've seen similar cases in Enhirre and Djihan-Djihar. A relapse can prove fatal. But tell me, can you explain the strange marks on his skin and nails? I thought at first they might be a rash or discoloration caused by the fever, although I've never seen it on any other patient before.”
The telltale stains left on Enguerrand's body by Nilaihah's presence, the streaks of gold in his dark hair, the unearthly glitter in his eyes, were fading slowly. But Andrei found that he had instinctively clenched his fists, hiding his own nails, which were still a dark violet, the last traces left by his Drakhaoul, Adramelech.
”Could you take us back with you to Serindher?” Andrei asked suddenly. ”That young man you've been tending is Enguerrand of Francia. There will be s.h.i.+ps coming to search for him and Lady Aude. But I fear they'll never find him if we stay here.”
”Gobain's youngest son, eh?” Abbe Laorans said, chuckling. ”What an honor for our mission, Blaize: our first royal patron.”
CHAPTER 8.
A rumbling, like distant thunder, broke the silence of the sleeping mission.
Andrei clutched at his head. Stabs of pain, each one a spear shaft of lightning, pierced his brain. Beside him, Enguerrand moaned and moved restlessly in fevered sleep. A hissed curse came from outside and, staggering to the doorway, Andrei saw Oskar, one hand pressed to his temples, collapse to his knees in the sand. And as another lightning shaft needled through his head, Andrei sensed the other two react at the same moment.
Aude started up. ”What ever's wrong, Andrei? Shall I get help?”
Andrei managed to nod before the lightning crackled through his mind again and, helpless to withstand it, he crumpled to the floor, doubled up. Why, as he squeezed his eyes tight shut against its fury, did he see the form of a winged warrior, dazzlingly bright, etched in light against the black of his closed lids?
Hallucinating... must be hallucinating. All the Drakhaouls are gone from this world. I saw them go.
”How are you feeling?”
Andrei looked up dazedly and saw Pere Blaize gazing down at him.
”Groggy.” Andrei pushed himself up on one elbow, blinking in the daylight. ”What happened?”
”We rather hoped you'd tell us.” Blaize grinned at him. ”All three of you pa.s.sed out. Before that, Aude heard you muttering about lightning and spears.”
”A tropical storm?” Andrei couldn't remember. ”There was rumbling, like thunder...”
”The skies were clear last night. But now...” The grin faded. ”Can you come with me? I'd like you to take a look.”
Leaving Oskar and Enguerrand still sleeping, Andrei followed Blaize out of the mission and onto the sh.o.r.e. The sky seemed overcast and as they looked out across the sea toward the distant Spice Islands, Andrei saw what looked like thick grey clouds on the horizon.
”Does that look like a storm to you?”
”It looks like... smoke.” Andrei turned to Blaize. ”You don't think-”
”Distant rumbling. Smoke. A volcanic eruption.” Blaize looked at him, his habitually cheerful expression erased.
”Ty Nagar? But it's far from here. Surely...”
”It's not so much the eruption, it's what might follow in its wake. You're a sailor, you must have heard that tidal waves can occur after a major eruption. We have to warn the villagers. And evacuate the mission.”
Andrei heard voices coming from the sh.o.r.e. Several fishermen came running up the beach to Pere Blaize, all gabbling at once and pointing toward the sea. After they had exchanged a few words in Serindhan, the fishermen hurried off toward the village.
Blaize looked at Andrei. ”We have to get everyone to higher ground.”
The straggling procession wound upward through the jungle; mothers clutching babies and wailing toddlers, older children herding ragged goats, carrying cooking pots and sacks of rice. There had been no time to do anything but ring the chapel bell to summon everyone and gather up the essentials for survival.
Aude had offered to help Blaize with the mission orphans, and even though she knew only a few words in Serindhan, she soon charmed the little ones into an attentive group. They set off up the hill, clinging to her hands. Oskar, after much grumbling, hoisted Enguerrand up and followed the children.
”Is everyone out of the mission?” Blaize called to Andrei. ”Where's Laorans?”
”Isn't he with you?” Andrei scanned the gaggle of white-robed mission helpers but could see no sign of Laorans's distinctive snowy hair. ”I'll check the chapel. You go on ahead with the others.”
Andrei flung open the chapel door and ran down the aisle, calling out for Laorans.