Read Online The Mages' Winter of Death: The Healers of Glastamear: Volume Two by Charles Williamson - Free Book Online Page A

healer rather than a merchant. He did it anyway while hoping the men from Southport would keep his secret. Once the injured from the caravan were stable, he had a strong reaction to the combat. He had directly killed two knight protectors. He had never deliberately killed anyone, and his anguish was obvious to the Oxbow brothers.
    Jacob came over to him and said, “Michael, you are crying and I understand why.” There were tears in his eyes too. “One of my arrows killed a fleeing man who was no longer a danger to me. The two knights you killed were murdering the injured, and healers have always protected their patients. I wonder at what a terrible time we live in. Healers never kill, but we both did. But for me, it was not in defense; maybe I should never have joined the guild. I didn’t live up to its tradition.”
    Michael put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and said, “We are only human. There is much ahead that will test our guild rules, but it is important that we do the best we can. Jacob, I had the bloodlust; it’s a dangerous thing for reason and virtue to be consumed by fury and hatred. We’ll both do the best we can, my friend. That’s all Father God can expect from us. You are still a true guild mate to me and I to you.”
    Gregory came over to them and said, “Michael, thank Father God that you enchanted this armor. It deflected several killing blows, but I think the fact that it’s magic will be obvious to some of those who got away. That may be a problem if they spread the story of magic armor and especially of your sword that can cut through a man in steel plate at the waist in a single blow.”
    “We should hope that no one would believe such impossible tall tales. Clearly such men are only trying to cover their cravenness.” They both smiled at the lie. “However, even from such men, we may need reinforcements to guard our supplies. We don’t even have enough uninjured men to drive the wagons. I may need to ask John and Jim Neville and some wagon drivers from Swamp Ford to join us.”
    “If you need someone to take three horses and gallop to Swamp Ford, I’ll be off within seconds,” Gregory said.
    Michael could have used mage-thought to reach his best friend Jim in Swamp Ford, but that would be impossible to explain to the survivors. “Yes please go for help, but first did any of the attackers live?”
    “Yes there are four still living. Two of them may need a master healer; their cuts are too deep for Roger to stop the bleeding. One is well enough for us to have tied him up to keep the viper from slinking away.”
    “Well, Gregory, make haste for Swamp Ford. Keep on the move to avoid an ambush from the survivors, and take Black Dash, Jim’s horse, and your own mount. My stallion is extremely fast and has a lot of stamina; he can outrun most pursuers. Your horse and Jim’s are warhorses, strong but slow.”
    Michael walked over to the three injured brigands. Two were dressed in the armor of Hearthshire guards, and the third was a crown soldier who had probably deserted the roadblock he was assigned to guard. The fourth man was the least injured. Michael decided he could wait. He worked on the two with the deepest wounds. It took half an hour, but both would live. He checked the third and found he had been well healed by Roger. The fourth man wore a mismatched set of leather armor, which did not betray his origin.
    Michael cast the healer spells surgery sleep and amnesia release on the first three. The spells would cause them to sleep for at least eight hours and to forget everything that happened to them for the past ten to twelve hours. The fourth man Michael propped up against a wagon wheel and asked him to tell the story of how he came to this clearing for the attack on the wagon caravan.
    “I was a good man once; I never imagined that I would end up hung as a brigand.”
    He started to weep, and Michael waited.
    “I’m Arthur the wheelwright, and I’m from Hearthshire Town