Siege of Macindaw Read Free Page B

Black Sorcerer, looked up briefly from his work as Will rode into the little clearing in Grimsdell Wood.
    Each morning at eleven o'clock, Malcolm provided his people with medical treatment. Those with injuries or illnesses would line up patiently outside the healer's comfortable house so that he could diagnose and treat their ailments, sprains, cuts, sores and fevers. Since many of the people who lived in the little forest settlement had been driven out of their previous homes because of physical disabilities or disfigurement, there was usually a long line of patients. Many had ongoing health problems that required constant care.
    His last patient was a relatively straightforward case. An eleven-year-old boy had decided to use his mother's best cloak as a pair of wings while he attempted to fly from a four-meter-high tree. Malcolm finished binding the resultant sprained ankle, put some salve on the scraped elbows and wrists and ruffled the would-be adventurer's hair.
    "Off you go," he told him, "and from now on, leave the magic to me."
    "Yes, Malcolm," the boy said, hanging his head in embarrass- ment. Then, as he scuttled away, the healer turned to where Will was unsaddling his horse. The older man watched approvingly, noting the bond between the two as the Ranger spoke gently to the animal while he rubbed it down. The horse almost seemed to understand his words, responding with a good-natured snort and a toss of its short mane.
    "I hear you found the Skandians, then?" Malcolm said eventually.
    Will nodded. " Twenty-five prime fighting men," he said. " They were right where your messenger told us they'd be, on the banks of the River Oosel."
    Malcolm's people ranged far and wide through the vast forest. There was little that happened within its boundaries that they didn't see. And when they saw something out of the ordinary, they brought word to the healer. When reports had come in of a party of Skandian shipwreck survivors, Will had set out to find them.
    "And they were happy to offer their help?" Malcolm asked. Will shrugged as he sat down on the sunny veranda beside the old healer.
    " They'll be happy to receive the money I've offered them. Besides, their captain felt he owed me something because he let Buttle escape."
    Xander, the secretary and assistant to Orman of Macindaw, came out of the house.
    "How's Orman?" Malcolm asked. The castle lord had been poisoned by Keren in his attempt to gain control of Macindaw. Will and Xander had only just reached the healer's secret clearing in time to save his life.
    "He's much better. But he's still very weak. He's sleeping again," Xander said.
    Malcolm nodded thoughtfully."That's the best medicine for him now. The poison's out of his system. His body can heal itself from here on. Let him rest."
    Xander looked doubtful. In spite of the fact that Malcolm had saved his master's life, he still viewed the healer with a certain amount of suspicion. He felt Malcolm should be providing more tangible treatment than the simple injunction "Let him rest." But there was something else nagging at him at the moment.
    "Did I hear you say that you've offered to pay these Skandians?" he asked Will.
    Will grinned at him and shook his head. "No. I've offered to let you pay them," he replied. "Seventy gold royals for their services."
    Xander bristled at him indignantly. "That's outrageous!" he said. "You had no right to do such a thing! Orman is lord of Macindaw. Any such negotiations were up to him – or me, in his absence!"
    The secretary had proven to be a brave little man and very loyal to his lord. But that could make him act like a bit of a prig at times. Will eyed him meaningfully. He heard Malcolm's snort of derision.
    "At the moment," Will said, with a warning note in his voice, "Orman is lord of nothing very much at all, not even the borrowed bed he's lying in. So, actually, I outrank him. You seem to forget that I act with the King's authority."
    Which Xander realized was true. Will was a