Inga realised that Goodman had only probably been up moments before she’d turned up. No matter what time she arrived, she’d never caught him unaware or asleep. It had become a game for her and she suspected that he knew that. Though as she watched him get two wooden cups, she guessed that she’d probably been close today.
“Did I wake you?” she asked innocently. He glanced up, gave her a look and ignored the question. She grinned happily. “Don’t worry, hardly anyone was up when I left. We had to collect the herbs in the dew and wash them in it.”
He snorted at that. “Dew, water… it’s all the same thing.”
“Mutta insists. It’s part of the preparation,” she explained, but he pulled a face to show what he thought of that. “Oh, I know that you don’t like the magic bit, preferring to bleed and balance but it does work.” She so wanted him to believe and share the mystic part of healing.
“Says the girl who thinks people are stupid, if they believe that the god of healing comes to them in their dreams.” Inga shut her mouth at that; it was an old argument between them.
But then she couldn’t resist answering back. “Well it’s obviously the priests doing it to make money, using drugs, and they’re ripping people off.”
He sat back, a glint in his eye. Oh no, Inga thought, why did she always rise to the bait?
“It’s mind over matter, just like you think that your herbs work best if prepared in the dew, these people believe it’s a god. It’s what you think and believe, so it works for you. You make it happen, it’s the power of the mind.”
“But dew is different,” she told him. “It’s water made by a different process. Like gathering herbs at different times of the moon. Each time has different properties.”
He laughed then. “All right, the moon does affect things, like the tides.”
She interrupted: “And babies and madness.”
He pulled his usual amused, sceptical face and shook his head, whilst straining the herby water.
Inga decided to change the subject. “I’ve been thinking.” She laughed as he turned back to pull a quizzical face at that statement. “No, I have. Mutta knows all her knowledge from what she’s been told and I have to learn it as well. So it gets passed down like that, by word of mouth. But the knowledge you have is all in scrolls. You don’t need to know it.”
He handed her a cup of hot camomile water. “But I do know it. I have to be able to use it. We have the scrolls for reference if we ever get stuck. I don’t carry them with me all the time, it would be impractical.”
“I know that, though you have them there to read, if you forget. If Mutta forgets then it’s lost. If I don’t listen properly, then it’s gone. But, if I wrote it down like your scrolls, then it wouldn’t be lost,” she told him excitedly.
Goodman sat down on the bracken-covered floor opposite her and drew his knees up in his favourite position. For a moment she was distracted by the easy way he moved, but she pulled her eyes up to look at his face.
“You could write it down, yes. It’s a good idea. One that would contain both Greek and Roman ideas, even some Egyptian methods, and that combined with your German skills and practices would make it unique. It’s not been done before. But there’s one problem.”
“What’s that?” she asked, bemused at his amused tone after saying it a was good idea.
“Inga, you can’t read. To be able to write you need to be able to read first. And you can’t do either.”
“I can learn!” she burst out happily. “I know I can’t, and Mutta can’t, but you can. You can teach me!”
To Inga’s complete surprise he didn’t express or share the excitement she thought he would. In fact he didn’t say anything, but dropped his gaze and studied the floor. She was about to ask what was wrong, when he looked up again and gave a small tight smile.
“Yes, I could teach you to read. But it’ll take a while.”
“I don’t mind. I’ve got time to learn. Oh,” something occurred to her, “unless you’re going again?”
Goodman shook his head. “I’m going back across the Rhine in a few weeks and I’ll bring some parchment and a wax tablet back with me. It’ll make it easier to practise.”
“So you will teach me?” she asked, knowing that excitement and pleasure made her voice shrill.
“Yes, but for only as long as we’re both willing to put the work in.” Inga grinned. She wanted to reach over and hug him, but somehow it wasn’t appropriate. They didn’t touch each other unless it was a helping hand now and then.
“Can we start now?” she asked eagerly; in return he simply shrugged.
“Why not?” was his less than enthusiastic response. But Inga didn’t mind, she’d enough fervour for both of them. She smiled happily, he obviously thought that she’d give up after a week or two, which would explain why he was so reluctant, but she’d show him that she could do this and wouldn’t give up like some silly girl.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It was another warm night and there wasn’t a breath of wind to relieve the staleness of the air. Not the sort of night to be out walking and confronting seizers, but Mutta had no choice.
Inga was doing well, there was no doubt about that. She was hardworking and conscientious and had a lot of skill and patience at making tonics and lotions. The girl was a natural and it still rankled that she’d almost missed it and it had taken a white hunter to see her potential.
She was also growing. She’d be sixteen soon and she still had her friendship with the hunter. Mutta had hoped that by training her she would’ve removed his interest by acknowledging her error and the girl’s potential. But the bond had become stronger and even she had to admit it was a beneficial one. Inga had learnt a lot from him and he seemed happy to share his knowledge with them both.
Now the girl was learning to read the Roman word. It was all Inga’s idea and she’d raised no objections to it, so reluctantly the creature had agreed to teach her. And Inga was making progress, she’d written down bits and tried to share her increasing understanding with Mutta, but it was beyond her, the letters looked the same and sounded all wrong to her tongue.
In the meantime Inga’s training was getting on apace. Soon she would have to go to Braunlage with the other novices, to be taught by the specialists there. She’d learn to see the colours around a person and to interpret what they meant. And she’d find out about the dangerous creatures that could harm and attack people. Creatures like Goodman.
That was why she was coming tonight to warn him that their friendship might soon be at its end, but she suspected that he knew that already, which could have been why he’d been reluctant to teach her to read.
Mutta would be relieved at the end of their relationship, but she felt that she had to warn him. The hunter had kept his word, he’d provided for them diligently that winter and it had been a tough one. And his presence had kept the wolves at bay, so they hadn’t lost a single animal all year. Nor had he taken one person from the village or the surrounding settlements, and that must have cost him.
And then there was the shared knowledge of precious herbs that grew in the mountains. Altogether, he and Inga had identified eight new flowers that could be used for medicinal remedies and cures. That was eight plants she and others had dismissed as useless. It was embarrassing really that it had taken an enemy of light and goodness to show her these mistakes. If she hadn’t known better, she would have believed that he really was a god.
There was one other problem as well. Inga was clearly infatuated, but then who wouldn’t be? Creatures like him were made to be alluring, and yet she knew that he was being honourable with the girl. He was treating her more like a friend or colleague than a young girl desperate to be loved and noticed. Even if she was too young for his taste he still wasn’t teasing her or encouraging her in any way. As he’d promised, she was completely safe with him.
And he’d know that their friendship was running out of time. It was inevitable that she’d
soon see exactly what he was and the rules would change. The genuine affection that had grown up between them would wither and die. It had to; they were on opposites sides of nature. The wolf couldn’t be friends with the deer, and neither could a hunter be trusted by a Wielder.
Mutta stood at the boundary and called softly and it wasn’t long before she noticed his luminescence coming down the slope towards her.
She braced herself for his presence and the appeal of his person. She took a deep breath and called out to him. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”
Goodman bowed his head and smiled, coming to a stop a few steps short of the boundary stones.
“The heat in your mountains can be oppressive. A storm would clear the air,” he told her conversationally, yet watching for any signs or indications as to why she’d called him.
“I’ve come to thank you for keeping your word and training Inga. She’s learning a lot and teaching me as well. I have to admit that your presence has been very beneficial to us.
“My colleagues have asked about you and I’ve told them that I don’t know what you are, as I’ve never seen you. We don’t question the gods here, so our secret is safe.”
She watched as he listened, seeing a flicker of relief pass briefly on his symmetrical features.
“I didn’t notice the latent ability in Inga and I thank you for bringing it to my attention. She has a lot of potential and the makings of a good herbalist. Teaching her Roman is a nice idea, but you know as well as I do that it’ll be for nothing.” She hesitated, studying his face for any response, but seeing no reaction, she continued. “She’ll soon be taught to see and interpret colours. It’s part of her training, as I’m sure you know. She has to be able to protect her people and to identify what threats are out there and then she’ll realise what you are. I’m sorry, Goodman, in part you are a good man. But she’s going to stay with trainers who’ll teach her how to identify and destroy creatures like you.”
She saw a reaction then in the swirl of colours around his body and he looked away so she couldn’t see his face.
When he turned back he was smiling, but she could see acceptance in his eyes.
“I know this day had to come. It’s been inevitable since you chose to train her. Inga’s been a good friend, thank you for letting us spend time together. I just hope that she’s as open-minded and as accepting as you are, Mutta.” He looked down, as if considering something, then he looked at her questioningly. “May I tell her what I am, myself?”
That surprised her, but she could see the sense of it. He could tell her gently in his own way, which might not break the trust and friendship that had grown up between them. She nodded. It would help Inga, but then she’d have to persuade her that not all Seizers were as benevolent as this one.
“Inga tells me that you plan to visit the Romans across the river next month?” she waited as he nodded. “I’ll send her to the main settlement then, which should give you plenty of time.”
“Thank you,” he answered quietly, but she could hear the sadness in his voice.
Despite her training she couldn’t help feeling sorry for this creature. “If you tell her yourself, maybe you can still retain some bond between you. She knows that you’re not a god, but as yet, she has little idea what else you could be.”
“Except that she knows I’m not like one of you any more.”
“I don’t think that she ever believed you were like us,” she replied and for a moment they smiled at each other.
Then an idea came to Mutta, maybe this creature could solve a mystery for her. “Does she tell you about her dreams?” she asked. Inga completely refused to discuss them and Mutta was at a loss as to their meaning.
But to her disappointment he looked surprised and somewhat baffled. “No, she’s never told me about any dreams. What sort are they?”
Mutta debated about telling him, but any light he could shed would be most useful. Carefully she studied the play of human colours around his body to give any extra insight into his thoughts. “She dreams of a warm place, where it’s nearly always sunny and there’s always a man and sometimes a dog. And she speaks a different language, one which I don’t understand, but from what Inga has told me, I don’t believe its Roman. I suspect they’re past memories that should’ve been wiped, but inexplicably have somehow managed to hold on.”
He seemed to be thinking. “Latin,” he said quietly. “Romans speak Latin, but tend to use Greek. Could it be Greek?” he asked and Mutta detected a tiny surge of emotion in his voice that betrayed his interest.
“I don’t know Greek. It could be. She also says a name a lot – well, I assume it’s a name, because she seems to be calling it and talking to this person.”
“What’s the name?” he asked. “It might help identify the language.”
“It might not be a name, but sometimes she says Si or Ci and other times, it’s more like Simon or Cimon? I’m not sure which.”
Almost as soon as she said that, the colours around his body flared and leaked out into the white, so that for a single heartbeat his whole aura was flooded with brightness. Then almost as quickly, the spectrum of light was gone, reduced to the confines of the proximity of his body and physical shell.
She stared astounded at the reaction, but he broke the spell when he answered almost immediately.
“The name’s Greek, Mutta. I know of several men with that name, some long dead and others still alive. I would safely say that she speaks Greek in her dreams and so probably was from Greece. It’s a hot country, even the nights are warm.”
Mutta had suspected as much, but now it was confirmed, and though he wasn’t saying, she suspected that this creature had been Greek as well, which could explain his emotional reaction.
“Thank you, Goodman. You’ve confirmed my suspicions. I’ll leave you now, but I suggest that you tell her soon, for both your sakes.”
He bowed his head in acknowledgment then said, “Mutta, do you want me to help again? It’s not so bad, but soon it’ll be too painful for you to walk.”
As he asked, he’d come closer, so that he was now standing on the boulders like an eager child, willing and more than able to help.
It seemed to her then that they’d played a game between them with Inga in the middle but it was over now. She’d tried to remove Inga from his influence and had failed initially, but in the long term, she’d made Inga safe and all he could do was to hope that the girl kept an open mind about him and what he was.
Much to her amazement, though, she realised that she had a grudging respect for him and in a way she actually trusted this hunter. They had more than healing in common; they both genuinely wanted Inga to be happy and in both their eyes her welfare came first.
If they hadn’t been on opposite sides of nature, they could even have been friends, and part of her even hoped that he might be able to salvage something with the girl when the dust settled between them.
She nodded. “That would be welcome. Thank you.”
He beamed, his face transformed by his genuine happiness to help. “In time, if we did this more often, I could stop the pain completely.”
She had to admit that the offer was tempting.
He jumped down next to her and enfolded her in his arms ready to share his life force again. She was more relaxed this time when he brought his face down to hers and instead of being terrified, she was calm and tranquil so was able to appreciate the experience and she wasn’t too old to enjoy the proximity of his presence.
***
“What does he want? “ Inga asked, peering around the crack of the door to study the hunter who’d turned up at the village only moments ago.
“I have no idea. But I’m going to find out,” Mutta told her, taking off the well-stained apron she used for making lotions.
“Sigi’s coming,” Inga announced opening the door wider to let the young hunter in.
“Mutta. Helmut wants you to go to him immediately,” Sigi said, pee
ring in through the door. “Oh, and bring Inga,” he added as an afterthought after seeing her standing in the middle of the room.
“Do you know why, Sigi?” Mutta asked quietly, as she nodded to Inga to come as well.
The young hunter shrugged. “Sorry, Mutta, I don’t. I was told to get you both if I could. That’s all I know.”
Inga glanced worriedly at Mutta. She didn’t think that she’d done anything wrong and besides that she was under Mutta’s protection now, so no longer under Helmut’s jurisdiction. Mutta smiled to reassure her, but when she glanced away she noticed that Mutta was biting her lip, something she’d seen her do when she was anxious.
Helmut was waiting for them not far from the gate, with the visitor. He looked pleased, Inga noticed, so maybe this wasn’t too bad. Several hunters were gathered around as well, just out of earshot but close enough if needed.
“Ah, both of you; good work, Sigi, thank you. Mutta, you know Wolf, don’t you?”
Mutta nodded. “Yes, I know Wolf. Are you and Talaka well?”
The large hunter from Braunlage smiled and answered, “Thank you, yes.” Then he came straight to the point. “My mistress has asked that you send the girl Inga to her today. Her other students have arrived and she’d like to begin their training as soon as she can.”
Mutta licked her lips and stared at him. Next to her, Inga made a sound like a strangulated sob.
“But we agreed it wouldn’t be for another two weeks. Inga needs to be ready and she’s not yet,” Mutta remonstrated, knowing that arguing was useless.
“Inga can pack her things and we’ll get her family together to say goodbye. It won’t take long,” Helmut told them, totally ignoring her protest. “Sigi,” he called to the hunter who was standing, waiting for further commands. “Get Gert and Sabine, and tell them to get their girls together. Inga is leaving us to begin her training.” The young man nodded and strode away.
Wolf spoke again. “My mistress will be most grateful, she knows that it’s hard to let the girl come without warning, but you must see her point. If she begins with these girls, and then Inga comes in part way through, she’d be at a great disadvantage.” He said it so reasonably and it was sensible. She should’ve known that Talaka, her own trainer, would change something at the last minute, merely because she could.