Chapter 10: Ring, Ring

Kat woke from a troubled sleep. She looked at Rhys, sleeping next to her. Her heart filled with love. Her man. Her lover. She pressed a little closer to him. Being with him always made her feel better.

She still felt tired, though. Her mind had been racing, thinking about Tyra. Kat was a healer; she knew that. But she was an untrained healer. She knew what an average person (whatever that meant) should be like and could spot where someone was different to that. And, in some cases, the difference was evident, for example, if they had a broken bone, were dehydrated, or had a headache. But other things were more subtle. There probably was no one who was average in all respects, so that raised the question of what it was about a difference that was just the natural variation between people, and what was something to be concerned about?

She knew from the time her great-great-grandfather showed her that she was a healer on their first visit to the magical plane that being a healer carried a huge responsibility. She had a natural talent and had done some basic healing under his direction, but healing on her own, especially when their mind was involved, was a massive step. She could do it, she knew that, but she didn’t know what knock-on effects the changes might have. Whether making one thing “better” would knock something else out. Whether that person had learned to live with their difference and compensated for it, either knowingly or not, and now would have to learn to compensate for their difference being “fixed” all over again. Or maybe they couldn’t compensate.

She wanted to be a proper healer so badly. She believed she had this talent for a purpose and that she wouldn’t be able to serve that purpose, whatever it was, because she didn’t know how to wield it safely.

Then she remembered her conversation with her great-great-grandfather the previous day. She’d asked him about having children, and he’d told her the information she was looking for was in one of the three ancient books that Rhys had been given. Who’d given them to him, neither she nor Rhys knew. When they’d had that conversation, she couldn’t read, so she hadn’t even looked at the books. But now she could read! OK, she could “only” read the Seibjern language and not her native Reijik, but what if the books were written in Seibjern?

She leapt out of bed, pulled on a dressing gown, and charged down the stairs. Entering the study, she looked around to see where Rhys had stored the books. She spotted them, high on a shelf next to the window. They were kept away from the light from the windows to prevent fading and to be safe from accidental damage. She raised her hands and pulled one of the books down. It seemed to be calling to her. Trembling slightly, she moved to the desk and laid the book down gently. She opened it and read the title on the first page. “A Compendium for Healers”.

Rhys woke with a start and sprang out of bed. Something was wrong. It wasn’t that Kat wasn’t in bed with him, but it was to do with Kat. Something had alerted him. He also grabbed a dressing gown and ran down the stairs. He looked in the places they usually used in the morning. In the orangery, where they usually had breakfast, she wasn’t there. He looked in the sitting room, and she wasn’t there either. He looked in the study.

Kat was sitting in the chair at the desk, her head resting on a large book. She wasn’t moving. Rhys rushed over to her. She was breathing at least. As far as he could tell, she wasn’t in any immediate danger or discomfort. He didn’t know what was wrong with her, so he left her as she was. He knelt by her side and held her gently. It took a few minutes, but she started to stir. She lifted her head from the book and noticed Rhys kneeling next to her. She swivelled round in the chair and gave him a proper hug.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just went to see if the book is written in Seibjern so I could read it. And it is! And look at who one of the authors is!”

Rhys leaned over to take a look at the book. “It’s gibberish to me,” he said. “It’s just symbols that mean nothing, and they seem to move and change, so it’s hard for me to focus on them.”

Kat looked at him. “Of course,” she said. “Great-great-grandfather said that only a healer would be able to read it. Well, here,” she pointed with a finger to a part of the page that was still unreadable to Rhys, “it says ‘Editor: Cadellin Wildwood’. My great-great-grandfather put this book together. It also lists other names as contributors, so it’s got knowledge from other healers, too.” One of my ancestors, and one I’ve actually spoken to, made this book.”

Rhys was pleased for her and said so. Kat, by the look on her face, wasn’t impressed by his reaction. “I know you’ve no way of knowing,” she said, “but books are one of the things that keep slaves and illiterate poor people in their place. All this knowledge,” she swept her hand around the books in the study, “all this history, all this science, all this literature from different countries, all of it exists for people to improve themselves. Except if you’re denied the key to it all. Except if you can’t read.

“I’ve seen your memories of learning to read. I know that pretty much everyone in Seibjerg gets that opportunity. It’s not like that here in Reiland. You have to start with privilege here, then you get to go to school and they give you more privilege – they teach you to read, to add numbers up, to speak other languages, and so much else. But if you start on the bottom rung, that’s where you stay.

“I sat down at this desk this morning and opened this book, and I could read it. And I know I can do that with any other book – well, ones that are written in Seibjern anyway,” she smiled at Rhys, “and you know what that means?” She hesitated. “Of course you don’t,” she said, and grinned. “Up to now, everything good that’s happened to me has happened because of you. I’ve been somewhat of a passive recipient. And, of course, learning to read Seibjern also happened because of you. But I have that key now. I’ve realised that I have the key to improving myself. To be the person I want to be. The healer that I know I can be. Of course, I’ll have to find a way to practise healing. But that can be arranged. I can find myself a healer who’ll take me on as an apprentice. I can do that. Me!”

She looked on the verge of tears again and was starting to hyperventilate. Rhys pulled her in tightly and held her while she calmed down. He thought about what she’d said. He hadn’t considered that knowledge, or the lack of it, could be oppressive. He didn’t have the means to change that, although he supposed that was one of the things that the Minshull Foundation was working towards with their agenda for “social justice”. But he could help the woman in front of him. Sure, he’d given her his memories of learning to read, but he could give her other memories. Of mathematics classes, of history, of natural sciences, of so much. He’d need to be careful, though. He didn’t want to make her into a female version of himself. He loved Kat for being Kat and didn’t want a Kat/Rhys hybrid.

Kat had calmed down now, and Rhys took her hand. “Breakfast?” he asked, knowing that food was always something that Kat paid attention to. He wondered how becoming a free woman would change her physically. Her life as a slave had given her superb muscle tone and a fine physique. She wasn’t skinny, but neither was she overweight. How would her new, more sedentary lifestyle and access to quality food affect her? In fact, how would their new lifestyle affect him? Or Jade? He’d certainly been more active at home in rural Seibjerg. Meals had been primarily based on what was available locally, mostly plant- and egg-based, with meat as an occasional addition. The question was: how to broach the subject with the two women in his life without them thinking that he thought they were out of shape?

“Yes, please,” said Kat. They strolled through the house and into the orangery. There was the usual pot of hot water to make tea, but the bread, cheese, ham and sweet pastries they usually ate for breakfast were missing. In their place was a glass jar with a hinged, air-tight glass lid containing an assortment of dried fruit, seeds, and grains, along with a jug of milk. “Jade and I thought we should have some variety,” she said. “We had a word with Mrs. Shaw and she’s agreed to provide us with some different, healthier meals, as we’re all less active now.”

That solved Rhys’s problem at a stroke. Great minds think alike.

Rhys made tea for both of them while Kat shook some of the jar’s contents out into two bowls and added milk. They took the tea and the bowls of seeds over to the rattan chairs by the large windows. The day threatened rain again, but it was currently dry. Rhys tasted the bowl of seeds, fruit and milk. It wasn’t very sweet and required quite a bit of chewing, but it was good. It reminded him of some of the breakfasts his mum used to make back in Solvstrom.

“Mrs. Shaw says it’s an ancient recipe,” Kat added. “She called it ‘moozi’ or something like that.” She chewed a little more. “It’s a bit like the food that slaves eat, except this has more fruit in it. It’s actually not too bad, and it’s apparently pretty good for you. Especially in the poo department!” She giggled, and Rhys laughed. He finished the bowl and drank his tea. Kat did the same.

There was a knock at the door. It was Clara letting them know that the transport crew had arrived. Kat and Rhys led the two-person team up to the main bedroom. The men grabbed the trunk by the handles on each end, braced themselves and lifted. They staggered slightly as the lightness of the trunk surprised them. Kat and Rhys retrieved wet-weather clothing in case of rain, and Rhys picked up his bag from the previous day. Kat also found her collar and leash in case they were needed.

The crew carried the trunk down the stairs, out of the front door, and loaded it onto a four-wheeled, horse-drawn, open cart that waited on the street. There were two rows of bench seats; the two crew members took the first row. Rhys helped Kat into the second row and then climbed up himself. The driver got the horses to walk on, and they set off towards the university. The journey was slower than usual as the horses on the cart walked while the horses pulling taxis generally trotted. The cart also had no suspension, and the seats were made of plain wood without padding. Rhys considered the change in his life again. This was precisely the sort of cart he’d hitched rides on at home in Seibjerg. How quickly he’d got used to the relative luxuries of a Chatamor taxi cab.

The cart pulled up a little way from the main university gate, and Rhys jumped down. He asked the driver to wait a few minutes. He jogged up to the main entrance where they’d been welcomed the previous day and went through. The door of the gatekeeper’s lodge was open, so he went inside. A uniformed man sat behind a screen, and Rhys approached, showing him his university pass and asking if it would be okay to bring the cart up to his housing block. Getting the almost-empty trunk there on foot would be fine; carrying it back with a woman inside would be difficult, even if the crew had a dolly they could use.

Fortunately, the gatekeeper was helpful. Today was another enrolment day, but deliveries were allowed before and afterwards. He wrote Rhys a permit and drew on a map to show which roads within the campus they should use, to avoid as many busy areas as possible. Rhys returned to the cart and gave the permit and the map to the driver. The cart moved slowly through the archway, being waved on by another gatekeeper. The driver steered them down some of the campus’s smaller roads, which Rhys hadn’t seen on the previous day’s tour. There were more green areas than he thought, typically small areas of well-tended grass with trees for shade, benches and wooden tables. Some had small rows of plants in neat beds. Even though the weather wasn’t great today, students were already outdoors, sitting alone or in groups, some lying on the grass, others sitting and reading books, and others just chatting. Rhys realised how important it must be to have these spaces to unwind and to experience reasonably fresh air.

They arrived at Rhys’s accommodation block. Kat quickly clipped her collar back on and hooked the leash up to it, leaving it hanging free down her front. Rhys hopped down from the cart and went into the block’s gatehouse. They couldn’t take the cart into the courtyard, but the gatekeeper unlocked the high iron gates for them. The cart’s crew lifted the trunk down, carried it across the quad, into their building, and up the stairs. Rhys knocked on the door. He heard footsteps on the polished floorboards inside, and Jade opened the door. She looked like she hadn’t slept much either. Still beautiful but looking more than slightly weary. The men put the trunk on the floor of the main room, then left – they’d wait in the gardens outside until they were needed. Kat and Rhys hugged Jade for several minutes.

“How is she?” Kat asked Jade.

“She’s pretty much as you left her last night,” Jade replied. “Curled up on the bed in a foetal position. I managed to get her to eat some more porridge and drink some water, but that’s it. She thanked me for the food and drink, but she hasn’t said another word or replied to any of my questions about whether she’s comfortable or anything.”

They went through to the bedroom to see Tyra. As they came in, she flicked her eyes over them to see who they were, then, disinterested, moved them back to staring into the distance. Jade sat on the bed with her again while Kat and Rhys unpacked the clothes from the trunk. Jade gratefully took a set of her clothes from them and started to get dressed while Rhys and Kat put the other clothes in the wardrobe or the chest of drawers.

Once finished, they looked at each other and nodded. Rhys scooped Tyra up from the bed and took her through to the main room. The trunk lid was open, and Jade and Kat arranged the blankets to make a sort of nest inside. Rhys, stooping down on his knees, lowered Tyra into it as gently as he could. To his surprise, she sighed contentedly. Kat had found a piece of cardboard left over from the previous day’s shopping and folded it over. Rhys lowered the lid on the trunk, and Kat inserted the folded card in the crack just before it closed. Rhys nodded his thanks; the card was enough to keep the lid slightly ajar, allowing air to get in and out.

Rhys leaned out of the windows in the main room and, seeing the transport crew in the gardens, put his fingers in his mouth and gave one of his piercing whistles. The men looked up, and he waved his arm to beckon them in. Kat and Jade were meanwhile fastening the leather straps around the trunk so the unlatched lid wouldn’t open in transit. Rhys opened the door. After a couple of minutes, the crew arrived. They picked the trunk up, this time staggering as it was now much heavier than they’d expected and carried it away. Rhys, Jade and Kat had a last look around the apartment. Jade had picked up the envelope that had been there when they arrived the previous day, and Kat had the keys. She locked up behind them as they caught the transport crew up at the bottom of the stairs. The crew loaded the trunk onto a dolly and guided it across the gardens, out through the iron gates and loaded it onto their cart. Jade, Kat and Rhys followed and climbed into the second row of seating.