Eona - Alison Goodman [66]
“Now, feel the full movement within each beat.”
I focused my senses on the tiny shifts beneath my fingertips as the physician led me through his art. It took all of my concentration to understand how to distinguish the three basic divisions of each beat and their projections. Finally, I mastered the fine differences, and the questions began. Was the tiny sign of life deep or superficial? Did it start boldly or hesitate? Was there any hold at the end, or did it rush forward into the next? How long was each peak and lull? The examination was endless. And then it was all repeated again with the emperor’s moon pulse.
Finally, the physician sat back and rubbed his lined face. “Thank you, my lady. I have enough information.” He bowed. “You have done very well. It usually takes years to develop such a finely tuned sense of touch.”
“Will he be all right?” I asked.
“I must admit I am anxious. He has been a long time in the shadow world, and every bell he does not awaken makes it more dangerous.”
I took a steadying breath. “But he will come back, won’t he?”
The physician crossed to the brazier. “Sometimes the shadow world keeps its visitors. We must pray that his Hua is strong enough to resist its lures. To help him, I will prepare a ginseng wash. It will both cleanse his body of the ordeal and kindle his sun energy. Do you know of the twelve meridian lines in the body, my lady?”
I nodded. Every time I entered the energy world, I saw the twelve pathways in my own body and in the energy bodies of those around me. It had also been part of the basic training of a Dragoneye candidate; the flow of Hua was the basis of everything in the world. “I have studied them,” I added.
The physician looked up, relieved. “You will need to wash him along those meridian lines.” He struck a small gong, its rich resonance echoing through the waiting cave. Then he poured water into the pan set on the brazier.
I nodded my understanding, although the impending task made me shift uneasily on the stool. I had never touched a man’s body in such an intimate way.
The physician selected a small ceramic bottle from a wooden crate on the floor and pulled out the stopper with a small pop. The whole flask was emptied into the pan. Then another bottle was selected, its contents carefully sprinkled across the top.
A small boy appeared at the edge of the screen. “I am sorry I took so long, master,” he said breathlessly. “There are so many people out there.” His wide-eyed stare was fixed on me.
The physician looked around. “Ask Madina for more washing and drying towels and bring them back here.” He cast a professional glance across at me. “Also ask her to make some soup for Lady Eona. She will know the one I mean. But tell her to leave out the toll herb.”
The boy bowed and backed away.
The physician took a long, carved stick and stirred the contents of the pan. “For maximum benefit, His Majesty should be washed by a male.” He looked across at me and smiled apologetically. “Your moon energy could nullify some of the efficiency of the ginseng. However, since only you can touch him, I have used all of my ginseng stock. Hopefully that will overcome the problem.” He took the pan off the brazier and poured the steaming liquid into a large porcelain bowl. Halfway through he paused, pan still held high, as if struck by some thought.
“My lady, forgive my bluntness, but are you and His Majesty lovers? You touched him with such tenderness that I must ask. If you are, it will affect