Gods of Blood and Fire - A. J. Strickler Page 0,49

would like him. Even if his skills were not the best her lady would like his looks. She decided this was the one.

Isabella noticed while she waited that this surgeon seemed to take anything as payment chickens, cheese, a goat. One man even brought him a stack of firewood. He would walk them out onto his porch take whatever they gave pat them on their back and wished them well. Isabella wondered if it was some kind of trick, no one was that kind at least no one she had ever met.

It was well after dark when she got her turn. The young healer came out on to the porch drying his hands with a rag. “What do you need, young lady?” Isabella nervously pulled her blonde hair behind her ears. “I need you to come with me to the palace, please.”

The physician looked amused. “Why is there someone sick?”

Isabella could tell he didn’t believe her and was just going along. “My lady bid me to find her a healer and bring them to her.”

“Really well, who is your lady ah...?”

“My name is Isabella and I serve Princess Raygan Albana.”

The young man tried not to smile. “I’m quite sure the Princess has a royal healer to tend to her needs.”

“She doesn’t like him,” the handmaiden said, yawning.

“That’s quite the story, Isabella, but all you had to do was say you need my help, and I would have come there’s no need for the big story.”

Isabella was too tired and hungry to argue with him. “Will you come with me then?”

“Yes, let me get my things.” Rhys put on a clean shirt and his short jacket and grabbed his bag of instruments and the small leather case that contained the herbs and ingredients he used in his medications. Isabella was waiting on the porch when he came out. With all the bags he looked like he was going on a trip.

“I am ready, lead on, Isabella. Is it your house we are going to then? Is one of your family members sick?”

Isabella sighed. “I told you where we were going.”

“Oh right, the palace.” Rhys chuckled.

A while later as they walked through the gates of the palace the guards nodded to Isabella and let her and the healer pass without question. Isabella looked out of the corner of her eye at her companion. “This is the palace healer.”

Rhys looked down at the girl astonished. “Oh bloody hell.”

Isabella watched the healer examine the Princess. He was gentle and seemed to know what he was about. He had introduced himself to the Princess, told her to lie still, and went right to work.

When he finished Rhys had pulled the chair from Raygan’s dressing table over near her bed and sat down. “Your injuries are severe, Highness, how did you get them if I may ask?”

“It was a riding accident a few days ago.”

“Begging your pardon, Highness, but those injuries aren’t from any riding accident.”

Raygan looked into his eyes almost pleading. “It was a riding accident.”

“Of course, Highness.” Rhys asked no more questions. The healer was not about to argue with royalty. “I can mix some herbs that will help with the healing and the pain.”

“What about my face when the swelling goes down, will it be like it was?”

“The bones were broken in your nose and there was damage to your jaw. I don’t know that I can help your appearance Highness.”

Raygan kept herself from crying in front of the young healer, but the disappointment was all over her face.

“Thank you, healer Morgan, I was hoping there was something that could be done.”

The healer just shook his head. Rhys could see the look of anguish on the young Princess’s face, he had crushed her last hope.

“I would like to retain you as my physician anyway, if you are willing.”

“Of course, Highness, whatever you wish. I will plan to check on you tomorrow and bring the medication I talked about.”

“You’re not from Bandara are you, healer Morgan?”

“No, Highness, I’m from Tara.”

“The Tyroian colony south of Greyland?” the Princess said.

The healer’s eyebrows rose in surprised. “You’ve heard of it, Highness?”

“Oh yes, Bishop Lyfair has mentioned it in his sermons on many occasions saying how the great faith of the Taran’s have sustained them all these years against the dreaded black slayers of Larcasia, the savage Viborg, and the rest of the nasty’s of the Harsh Coast.”

He nodded. “The Riders of the White help some too, Highness.”

“Yes, the knight order in Tara. The Bishop has mentioned them