The Seeker - Isobelle Carmody [82]
“What about the doctor?” I asked.
“I don’t think Rushton is quite sure what to do with him,” Dameon said in an amused voice. “He really is rather harmless. It turns out he was using garbled herb lore on the people he treated, and the worst he would have done is give someone a bad bellyache. Roland is trying to teach him some real herb lore, but the doctor is slow and Roland is so impatient.”
Looking at my friends, I thought this business had wrought a change in them, too. Dameon seemed quieter and older, while Matthew carried the scar left by Cameo’s death in the sadness I sometimes saw in his face. Yet they were more certain of themselves, more purposeful. Perhaps because Rushton had offered them a place in his world.
I found myself yawning and knew I did not really want to go to the meeting. I grinned at their relief when I said so.
“Will you stay?” Dameon asked.
“It will be some time before I can think of leaving,” I said, sidestepping the question.
Dameon did not press me. In truth, I did not know what I would do. I did not think I would stay at Obernewtyn, for I had a yearning to travel, to see the great sea and the western coast. But it would be as difficult as ever to move from place to place in the Land, even if Rushton provided me with a Normalcy Certificate, as he had promised any of us who wished to leave the mountains.
“Ye mun stay!” Matthew cried, looking disappointed. “Rushton said you’re stronger than all of us. He has the notion of starting his own council!”
Dameon nodded, sensing my curiosity and incredulity. “He wants to govern Obernewtyn with the help and advice of a council elected from our ranks. He wants us to work at our abilities and to train others to be better at what we do.”
“He wants us to form groups, guilds organized by special abilities,” Matthew added.
“And this council will be a sort of guild merge,” I quipped.
Dameon’s mouth twitched. “A good name. I will suggest it,” he said.
I laughed. Then another question occurred to me.
“Speaking of councils, what happened to those Councilmen and the soldierguards that came up here?” To my surprise, Matthew only laughed.
“There’s a story,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Madam Vega made the mistake of leaving the Councilmen to Ariel’s tender mercies. He fed them drugged wine and threw them in one of the underground storage chambers.”
I gaped.
“By the time they were discovered, it was all over. Rushton got them out and told them what had happened—with a few omissions.”
“A few omissions!” I gasped.
Matthew grinned widely, enjoying his audience. “He told them Madam Vega and Alexi had been plotting against the Council, and that they had organized to have the Councilmen knocked out and murdered in case they found out that Stephen Seraphim was defective and their prisoner.”
“And they believed him?” I asked.
“With a little empathy,” Dameon said with a sly, slow smile.
“Rushton gave them the impression the whole revolt had been meant to free them,” Matthew continued. “They were sick to their stomachs from th’ stuff Ariel had given them, and they were only too happy to believe anything they were told by the man who rescued them. Those with empath abilities have been preparing them to rush back to Sutrium after the thaw, and ye can be sure Rushton will have no trouble getting his claim accepted after they prepare the way.”
I laughed aloud at the thought of the self-important Councilmen thrown into a storage cupboard. Then I sobered. “What about me?”
“What about you?” Matthew inquired pertly. “You’re dead. You ran away during the battle and were almost certainly tragically devoured by wild wolves.”
Domick poked his head around the door. “Rushton’s coming up.”
Dameon and Matthew moved to depart.
“Wait. Don’t