Vlad Taltos - 06 Athyra by Steven Brust

Author:Steven Brust [Brust, Steven]
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Action & Adventure, Vlad Taltos
ISBN: 9780441033423
Publisher: New York : Berkley, 1993
Published: 2010-02-28T09:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

I will not marry a wealthy trader,

I will not marry a wealthy trader,

He’d keep me now and sell me later.

Hi-dee hi-dee ho-la!

Step on out ...

Savn became aware that the shadows had lengthened, and wondered

if he’d fallen asleep, sitting with his back to the tree. Perhaps he had.

Everything was very still. He checked Vlad’s breathing, which was all

right, then checked the bandage on his leg, which had soaked through.

He removed it and inspected the wound. It was no longer bleeding, at

any rate—or, rather, it hadn’t been bleeding until he removed the

bandage. He knew there was a way to take bandages off without

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starting the wound to bleeding again, but he couldn’t remember what

it was. It annoyed him that he could have managed something as

tricky as getting Veld’s lungs working again but couldn’t remember

how to treat a wound.

But he cleaned it once more, using the water sparingly, then wrapped

it in what remained of Tern’s fine cloth bedsheet. He noticed again

how bloody the water looked, and wondered if it really mattered; it

was, after all, Vlad’s own blood; perhaps it was good for him.

He leaned against the tree again. He wondered if he ought to go to

Master Wag’s where he was expected, but he didn’t want to leave Vlad

alone; he preferred not to take any chances on someone or

something, by accident or design, undoing all of his work.

As this thought formed, he realized that he felt rather fine; he had

managed a very difficult procedure under far from ideal conditions,

in spite of having only the vaguest idea of what the problem was,

much less the solution. He looked at Vlad and smiled, then looked at

the two jhereg, who were now seated next to each other on the

ground, their wings folded.

“I feel like I can do anything,” he told them.

The smaller one looked at him for a moment, then curled around and

rested its head on its neck, looking at Vlad. What was the relationship

between Vlad and the jhereg? It had something to do with witchcraft,

he knew, but what was it exactly? Would he ever know? Would he ever

be enough of a witch to do such things himself?

Why not?

If he could save a man’s life with a jug of water and two pieces of

leather, he ought to be able to perform spells, especially after

everything he’d been shown. He remembered that odd state of mind,

which felt like a dream, but where his thoughts were sharper than

being awake—distant, but present. Why shouldn’t he be able to get

there himself? He remembered how Vlad had done it; he should be

able to do it on his own.

He leaned back against the tree, pretending he was sinking into it.

Slowly, methodically, he took himself through the procedure that

Vlad had shown him, relaxing his head, neck, shoulder, arms, and

every other part of his body. By the time he reached the soles of his

feet, he felt curiously lethargic—he knew he could move if he wanted

to, but he didn’t want to; he was held motionless by his own will.

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