Passage - Lois McMaster Bujold [53]
Could he test his suspicion? Hod was bent over with both hands on his right knee again, helplessly patting at it. It was clear his pain was very real.
Dag swallowed and cleared his throat. “All right, Hod. I can give you just a little more ground reinforcement. But then you have to behave and follow orders about letting that knee heal, all right?”
Hod’s face lit with joy; he nodded vigorously. His lips parted as he watched Dag bend down and lay his hand on the joint again.
The wrench of the reinforcement came readily; Dag felt it like a wave of heat passing from his palm into the throbbing joint below. For a moment, all the tension seemed to go out of Hod’s body. He gave vent to an aah of blissful relief. “That’s good,” he whispered to Dag. “That’s so good.”
Fawn patted Hod’s shoulder again in encouragement. “There, see? You’ll be all right soon.”
Berry, watching, scrubbed the back of her hand across her mouth. “That’s real interesting, Lakewalker. You some kind of bonesetter, too, are you?”
“Sometimes,” Dag admitted, climbing to his feet. His heart was pounding, and it wasn’t from the exertion. “Just in emergencies. I’m not trained as a real medicine maker.”
Fawn started to explain proudly to Berry how Dag had once mended a glass bowl by groundwork, but broke off as Dag grasped her by the arm and dragged her into the cabin. He didn’t stop till they were out of earshot back by the kitchen hearth.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, alarmed. “Isn’t Hod healing all right?”
“Oh, his knee’s healing fine. So’s his gut.”
“Well, that’s a relief. You know, I’m thinking maybe a trip on the river would be good for Hod, too, now he’s not going to be so sick all the time. I bet we all could watch after him better ’n those glass-men did.”
“Fawn, stop. It’s not that. It’s something else.”
She blinked at his tone, then looked at him more carefully.
“Hod”—Dag took a deep breath—“is beguiled to the eyebrows. And I don’t know how to get him un-beguiled.”
8
Dag had the most unsettled look on his face, downright dismayed. Fawn felt pretty dismayed herself. “How did it happen?” she asked.
“Not sure. Well, it must have happened when I healed his knee, yes, but—I didn’t mean to. I always thought beguilement was something you had to do on purpose.”
“It’s something real, then?” She had thought it rumor, tall tale. Slander.
“I’d never seen a case. Only heard about it. Gossip, stories. I’ve never known a farmer who—well, till I met you, I hadn’t really known any farmers at all. Passed through, passed by, dealt with farmers, yes. Never got so close, for so long.”
“What’s this beguilement like?”
“You saw near as much as I did. Hod wants more. More healing. More ground reinforcement, more pieces of…me, I guess.”
Her face screwed up in new confusion. “But Lakewalkers have healed me. You, Mari, old Cattagus once a little, when I scorched my hand. And I’m not beguiled.” Am I? The thought went well beyond dismay. She remembered her own rage when Dag’s brother Dar had implied just such a thing, mocking her marriage.
“I…” Dag shook his head. It would have reassured Fawn more to think it was in denial and not just Dag trying to clear his brain. “Those were minor healings. What I did on Hod was as deep as any medicine making I know of. I nearly groundlocked myself.”
Her hand went to her lips. “Dag, you never said!”
He waved away her alarm. “And you—I’m not sure how to put this. Your ground isn’t hungry like Hod’s. You’re abundant. I don’t think you know how much you give to me, every day.” His brows drew down, as if he pursued some insight that eluded him. “I’d half-talked myself into thinking the risk of beguiling farmers during healing was exaggerated. That others might have problems, but that I’d be an exception. Looks like I need to think again.”
Both their heads