“This is my mother Danora and my father Lamok,” said Singor. “We haven’t left her alone for a moment since she took ill.”
Lamok looked into Edak’s face, and he implored, “If you could do anything, anything at all...”
Edak placed his hand on Danora’s forehead and closed his eyes to heed his inner sense. She felt like the sun. He opened his eyes and placed the willow branch at the hearth. “This we will use later. Please, all of you, assist me in the treatment.”
Lamok’s eyes widened. Dradok rubbed the back of his neck reluctantly. “We know nothing of the healing arts,” said Singor. “We are just simple people. That’s why we sought you.”
Edak nodded. “Do not worry; this is something we can all do. I will show you how.” He held out his arms. “Join hands with me around Danora.”
Hesitantly, they took hands with Edak and formed a circle around the patient.
“Relax now,” said Edak. “Take a deep breath and hold it a moment, then relax and exhale...close your eyes, inhale again, hold it...exhale. Again inhale...hold it...exhale.”
Edak felt the muscles relax in the hands of Singor and Dradok which he was holding. Good. “I will start by imagining the energy of Light flowing through me. When I see it with my closed eyes and feel its healing strength, I will concentrate it into a ball and squeeze your right hand, Singor, and transfer the energy to you. When you feel it, concentrate and add your Light; strengthen it and direct it down to your left hand. When this is done, squeeze Lamok’s hand. Lamok, you do the same and give it to Dradok and finally, Dradok, send it back to me. We will continue this, building the power higher and higher until at last we place our hands on Danora and direct all the Light to her. Are you ready?”
They opened their eyes and looked around, but Edak met each glance with a warm smile. One by one, they nodded, then closed their eyes.
Edak concentrated, imagining a loving white Light tingling throughout his body. He directed it into a ball and channeled it down his left arm into his hand. He felt his hand vibrating and squeezed Singor. The Energy seeped from him to her. Then he waited, knowing this would take a while for the others to work with this unfamiliar healing method.
Time passed. The only sound in the room was the labored breathing of Danora. Then at last Dradok squeezed his hand and the Energy came back to him. Now it was stronger, more brilliant. He could feel the vibrating Force all the way to his toes. He directed it into a ball, brighter and more energized than before. He added more Light, took a deep breath, then channeled it into Singor, releasing the radiance.
It flowed through the circle faster now, gathering strength from each donor. Now Edak’s whole body tingled and lit up with the Force. Again, he added more and passed it on.
Within moments it returned through Dradok. It was almost overwhelming, and Edak’s body trembled. “Once more,” he whispered, and added more Energy.
He squeezed Singor’s hand. She gasped. Lamok groaned slightly when he received it, followed by Dradok, who broke out in a joyous smile. He added more, passing it to Edak. “It’s too much,” he whispered as it flowed out of his left arm.
Edak could barely contain the Force, seeing only a radiant, blinding white. He shook and trembled in the beauty of it. He added what he could.
Then he rasped, “Place your hands on Danora. Do not break our chain.”
Their trembling hands, linked to each other, touched the fevered woman on her shoulders, back and head. “Take a deep breath,” Edak whispered. “Direct the Light out...now!”
The four willed the vibrating Energy down their arms and into Danora. It poured out through their hands, draining them almost violently.
Danora moaned loudly, paused, then took a long deep breath, quieting as she exhaled. Her breath came slower and deeper until, gradually, her expression showed her to be sleeping comfortably.
They lay motionless, slumped over Danora’s peaceful body, so depleted it was an effort keep their weight off her, nearly unable to move, a feeling of deep peace within them.
After a while, Edak struggled to his feet. “She should sleep deeply now,” he said. “When she awakens, give her a tea of the bark of the willow branch I brought. It will help to keep her fever down and will alleviate any pain she may have. Let her have any other food or drink she requests. Her body will tell her what she needs.”
He saw an amphora near the door and he realized he was thirsty. “May I have a drink? I feel like a dried leaf.”
Lamok rose to his feet and shakily took up the jug. “Of course. I too am thirsty.” He smiled weakly. “I wasn’t before we did this.”
He poured the water into clay cups held by Dradok and Singor. They all greedily gulped one cupful, then another. The third drink was taken more leisurely and Edak looked around the humble cabin while he sipped. A weaver’s loom stood up against a wall, a light-brown yarn of llama’s wool rolled up at its side and, next to it, a basket of cotton locks picked and ready for seed and lint separation. Danora would never want for clothing, though weavers were not paid much for their industry.
Dradok took a small cloth bag and emptied it. Two gold pieces fell into his hands. “Take this, for you have saved my mother’s life. Of that I am sure.”
Edak held up a hand in refusal. “I will not take all your money. Lack of food is just as deadly as lack of health. I allowed the Energy to flow through my body—nothing more—as you did also. What price could I charge for such a small deed? Now that you know the method, you may pass it on. Help others when you can.”
“Please,” insisted Lamok. “You must take something.”
Edak eyed the loom once more. “My mother’s tunic is old and worn. I would be grateful if you would give her enough cloth for a new one.”
Singor beamed. “Of course, and enough for you, too.”
Edak glanced down at his garment. Strange that he hadn’t noticed before how ragged it had become. To compound the shabby appearance, the brown stain of the fen was still on his hem and legs. “It is too much to ask, yet I see I have need of it.” He forced a laugh. “How silly I must look.”
“It is done, then,” said Lamok. “I shall deliver cotton, and perhaps wool too, in a few days along with word of my wife’s condition.”
Edak stayed for a light meal and watched Danora sleep peacefully. When his strength revived somewhat, he returned home and slept the rest of the day and night.”
* *
He awoke before dawn and built a fire in the hearth before the sun touched the horizon. Water was steaming, ready for tea when Ogra opened her eyes. “Edak,” she exclaimed. “What a nice surprise. Breakfast is half-made when the fire is alive. Thank you.”
She eyed him curiously. “But why are you up so early?”
He chuckled slightly. “I slept nearly a full day and night already. It’s time I arise. Also, I want to write an account of the treatment yesterday. It might be of use to others.”
Klad sat up and rubbed his eyes. Not much of a talker in the morning, he stared half-asleep at the fire before taking a cup of tea. Between sips, he groggily combed his mussed hair and fastened the thong around it. Then slowly, he tied shells to his ankles, shoulders, waist and wrists.
He was a message runner now. Since the appearance of Gedran over a year ago, Klad had only one desire in life, to carry communications between the villages. He pestered the village council until, exasperated, they too saw the need for such a service. Armed with only a torch, a knife secured to a waist-cord, and the noise of the shells rattling, he ran along the riverbank with news for the elders, news that could not wait for the slower method of a boat.
Klad’s rugged handsomeness, along with the courage of one who ventures alone where wild beasts roam, brought him into the fantasies of countless young women. He was only vaguely aware of this, though it was obvious to Edak, who looked on in amusement.
Edak watched his brother finish the knot on the last shell. “Will
you be eating with us this morning?”
Klad shook his head. “No. I am not fully awake yet. I will have some bread and perhaps a bit of fish in the marketplace while I await my assignments.”
Ogra looked anxious. “Klad, be careful. It only takes one careless moment...”
Klad looked over with a patronizing smile. “I am always careful, Mother. Believe me, I do not want to be a meal.”
Amused, Edak shook his head, then went back to the parchment he was writing on. He had to be sure the healing procedure was explained exactly. It hadn’t been used in Mu before and was known to only a few in Atlan. Seratl Ti had learned it from a temple priest and was ridiculed for trying such a ‘barbaric’ treatment in these enlightened times.
But it worked.
His concentration was interrupted by the ‘chenk, chenk, chenk’ of Klad striding to the door. “Goodbye, Klad,” he called. “Beware, lest you be caught...by animals or women!”
Klad called back from the lane, “Do not tease, Edak. Life is difficult enough.”
Ogra looked questioningly at Edak. “Tell me, Edak. Is Klad a problem for women?”
Edak grinned. “They think he is a god.”
Ogra burst into laughter. “My little son—how delightful! Oh, I wish Rehm were here to see this.”
“Father looked much like Klad. What did your heart do when you met him?”
Again she laughed. “As the girls do with Klad—I thought he was a god!”
Edak reached out for her hand. It was rough from years of pottery making but she was still beautiful. “And of all the young women to choose from, he took you.”
Ogra’s laughter faded to a smile. Her eyes became distant and long-ago memories brought tears. She didn’t speak, but took Edak to her and held him for a long moment. Then she loosened her grasp and went about preparing the flatbread with honey for their meal.
After breakfast, Edak finished the account of the previous day, then cleaned up his brush and ink, rolled up the parchment and walked outside. Ogra was busy setting up small mounds of clay and jugs of water. “I will be at the library,” he told her. “I should be back by afternoon. Is there anything you would like from the marketplace?”
Ogra thought for a moment. “I would ask that you buy a fish for dinner, but I enjoy the afternoon walk and would rather I did it.”
“Very well. Have a pleasant day.”
He walked down the lane toward the heart of town and watched his feet making little puffs of dust in the warm earth. Normally he would have thought about this, for he usually noticed such things as he walked. Dust on the road. It hasn’t rained in three days. Unusual for Mu. He would then have looked at the sky and noticed dark clouds off to the north and known there would soon be moisture.
But this morning Edak saw none of this. His mind held only one thought—Myreem. He could see her now, surrounded by scrolls and ink-pots, her pretty face and dimpled smile. He made his way through the village and mentally conversed with her. How she marveled at his wit! His heart pounded thinking of affectionate words to say to her and he observed her thrilled reaction.
When had she first crept into his thoughts? He couldn’t remember. She had started work at the library soon after he returned from Atlan. At first he hadn’t noticed. She was simply the young woman who worked there. But now she lingered in his mind like jasmine in the air on a warm evening. Why did this happen? Romance wasn’t in his plans. It had occurred so gradually, he hadn’t even noticed until one day he realized he wanted to see her, talk to her, be near her every chance he could.
He quickened his pace. The stone path came into view, the one leading to the large stately library. It felt smooth and cooling on the soles of his feet. He observed this with a thrill, knowing Myreem had trod the same path soon before.
He pictured her: statuesque, low voice, dimpled smile, soft eyes—and what else? What was it that made her so special? He didn’t know. She just was.
The marble archway at the doorway was impressive. It was the entranceway to the center of knowledge for literate people in the village. Today though, its only significance was of being the door to Myreem’s place.
It was cool inside, with a smell of parchment. He paused to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness. In the corner he could make out the form of Myreem copying a scroll. She had looked up from her work and was smiling, watching Edak, waiting to be recognized by him.
“Good morning, Edak. I have not seen you in awhile.”
Suddenly he was shy and awkward. Where were those wonderful, intelligent, interesting things to say, the witty words he had daydreamed of so shortly before? “I brought an account of a healing,” he said flatly, and placed the scroll on her table. “I hope it is easily understandable.”
She picked it up, her expression changing to a businesslike seriousness. “Wonderful. I have had no problem reading your other essays.”
She unrolled a part of it, read a little and nodded. “Yes, this is fine. Thank you. I have copied your previous accounts and distributed them to other libraries.”
Edak looked into Myreem’s eyes and was transfixed. He smiled nervously and tried to think of something to say. He wandered about the room, randomly looking at various writings, unrolled a scroll, read a few lines, rolled it back up, replaced it for another, then another. Now and then he glanced at Myreem. Once he caught her looking at him. She quickly averted her eyes and pretended she had been writing all the while. An exciting pang grabbed at his stomach. He gained more courage and rocked back and forth on his heels for a moment. What will he say? What could he say?
He took a breath and walked up to her. His mouth opened to speak but his voice was hoarse, as if he had a cold. He coughed and cleared his throat, then tried again. “It is a beautiful day, Myreem. Will you put your brush down and come walk with me in the fresh air? Your work will wait.”
He watched her anxiously, then turned away.
She was solemn for a moment, then a smile burst across her face. “That sounds wonderful. I would love to.” She placed the lid on her vial of ink and got up.
Edak was elated, but didn’t know what to do next. Why was this so difficult? He had walked with people before and talked with them. Neither had ever been an ordeal. Yet he wanted to be here with her more than anywhere else.
Why couldn’t he function?
Myreem fastened her thin sun veil over her face and they stepped into the sunshine. “You are right. It is just too nice out here to be inside writing this morning.” She looked at him and her eyes smiled. “Where shall we go?”
“I do not know.” His hands were slippery with sweat. He eyed the river to the right. “How about the water?” He strode down the stone path, leaving Myreem behind.
“Wait! Slow down,” she laughed. “Your legs are longer than mine.”
Edak waited, staring at his feet while she caught up. They began again to walk, slowly this time. “You need not be afraid of me,” she teased.
“I am sorry,” he said self-consciously. “I was not thinking. I am not usually so awkward like this.” He was thankful Klad wasn’t there to see him.
She caught his eye and looked at him in a way that made his heart beat faster. “Do not be nervous. Pretend we are both back in the library, like usual. Tell me about the latest manuscript.”
“There is nothing much to say. I learned a method of healing from my teacher in Atlan. It was little-known there, as here. I simply taught a family what to do and then we all applied it together.”
“Edak, you are too vague. Explain this to me.”
They found a shady spot in the grass by the river and sat at the bank. The water flowed lazily and the two watched it silently for a few moments while Edak gathered his thoughts.
“Imagine,” he said at last, “that there is a powerful sacred Energy within every part of you. It actually does exist, but you will not feel it unless you think about it. Close your eyes and imagine a white
light filling every part of you.”
Myreem closed her eyes and Edak took the opportunity to stare. He drank in the sweet features of her inwardly searching eyes, the veiled contours of her nose and full lips, which smiled now at the recognition of the Energy.
“Yes,” she said. “It is here.”
“You can concentrate that Energy, and compound it. You can direct it to any part of your body at will if you wish, to heal or strengthen. And you can channel it into another person, or animal, or plant. It takes practice and discipline, as with any skill, but it is there for all to use.”
Myreem opened her eyes and looked into Edak’s. “Show me how you channel it.”
He swallowed, then closed his eyes to envision the Energy. He felt her stare and opened his eyes again. “Close your eyes and relax,” he said.
With her eyes no longer on him, he tried again. The Energy was there, but it didn’t feel strong. Concentration was difficult. He shook his head hard to force Myreem from his mind.
Again. The Energy lay dormant, waiting. He observed it, willed it to strengthen, gathered it into a ball, stronger and stronger. He thought of Myreem and the Energy diffused somewhat. Determined, he concentrated hard and coaxed the Light back into the ball. At last, it sat gathered and brilliant in his chest area.
Now he inhaled deeply and reached for Myreem. He touched her hand and exhaled, forcing the Light from him to her.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Yes, yes I see now. Wonderful!”
Edak’s eyes opened and met hers. Their hands remained clasped.
* * * *
Chapter 16
Myreem and Edak didn’t notice the sun climbing higher into the sky, nor were they aware of the air which had turned hot and humid. One conversation gave rise to another, then another—things that suddenly were so important they could not wait another moment. The morning passed quickly.
But then Myreem saw the sun’s reflection sparkling in the river. She stiffened. “It is midday,” she exclaimed, scrambling to her feet. “I have been gone far too long. I must return.”