77

Bayle walked Michael through the courtyard and into the interior wall, where the Tusynian prisoners were still being accounted for. The count and his family were simply confined to their quarters in the tower, and the officers got placed in servant’s quarters, but it seemed that the foot soldiers would be contained in fenced-off tents.

They made their way to a wide room that smelled of blood. It was dimly lit, so Michael raised his hand, focusing just enough to make it glow and saw that it was full of injured men lying on the floor or against the wall. A number of elderly men and women of various ages were all trying their best to tend to them, but it was clear that they had limited means and supplies.

Michael moved to the nearest of them, and they all flinched back from him in fear.

“It’s all right,” he said as he started to focus more on the heat in his hand. “I’m a healer.” He started by mending those nearest to him, feeling bones mend and leaking wounds stitch back together as he did so. He moved slowly and deliberately, finding that the worst of the injured were already dead, which meant that those left had injuries that, while they needed healing, were not immediately life-threatening. By the time he was done, he was feeling light-headed, but he managed to start walking back toward the door where Bayle was standing with the guards.

One of the soldiers on the ground grabbed him. He had small tattoos on his face and a metal piercing of some kind in the top of his ear.

“Run if you can. They’ll kill you long before they let you go.”

Michael turned to look at him. “Wha⁠—”

“Penitent Michael,” said Bayle, gesturing for him to follow.

Michael looked back at the man for a moment. The man was looking at him with pleading eyes, and he walked toward Bayle who was already moving to leave the room.

“There are a few officers that still need treatment,” said Bayle, “but I know you have the stamina for all of them, so I decided to take you to the ones that needed it the most first.”

Michael nodded, though Bayle couldn’t see the gesture behind him. “Thank you.”

Bayle shook his head. “The rank-and-file don’t really think beyond what they’re taught. Lifetakers are monsters. Tusynians are evil invaders. Useful stories, and easy ones for them to believe considering so many have lost a parent or a sister to one or the other.”

Michael stayed quiet, unsure of where this was going.

“It makes them blind to how best to handle problems. They’re too heated about it to think clearly.” He chuckled. “Every time I see someone nearly refuse healing from you, it really shows how firmly things are cemented for them.” He shook his head. “The worst part is that in spite of that we consider ourselves the most practical of kingdoms.”

He reached a doorway guarded by two more Stent guards and returned a quick salute from them before pushing it open. In this room were a few more wounded, though unlike the other room, they’d all been at least nominally treated. There were no corpses, and it didn’t take Michael nearly as long to finish healing all of them. He even got a few thank yous and other courtesies. When he was done, he was even more unsteady on his feet and found himself needing to lean against a wall for a moment as they exited the room.

Bayle looked at him and gestured for him to follow him. Michael did so and soon found himself in what looked to be servant’s quarters. Bayle opened a door and pushed it open to show a small room with four beds.

He gestured to the one in the corner.

“Get some rest. I’ll have the others gather your things and bring them in here. They’ll be able to rest in this room too.”

Michael moved to the bed he was assigned.

“There aren’t enough beds for everyone. I’ll sleep on the flo⁠—”

Bayle sighed, irritation appearing in his face for the first time that Michael had ever seen. “Your attempts at martyrdom are exhausting. Take off your armor and get some divine-damned sleep this instant, or I’ll activate your brand.”

Michael saluted and loosened his armor as he approached the bed. A real bed. It had been a long time. Bayle left, and Michael lay down to rest. He felt his exhaustion deep in his bones as he sank in. Unfortunately, he wasn’t so tired that he didn’t hear Pyotr’s words repeat in his head, as well as the words of the man with the tattooed face, before sleep took him.

When Michael awoke, it was the middle of the night. He could hear the snoring of his friends, snoring that was familiar enough that he could identify that it was Davi and Pyotr that had elected to sleep on the floor. He sat up and activated his night-eye spell to see in the dark. He rifled through his pack that had been placed carefully against the side of his bed. He fished his mirror out of it and made his way toward the exit. The first thing he did was search out a bathroom, which didn’t take him long since these were clearly well-used servants’ quarters. The leaves he’d chewed seemed to be starting to have their impact, though it wasn’t quite as rough as Crick had led him to believe it would be. Or his recovery and healing were just helping him out. Once he’d relieved himself, he made his way into the hall and made his hand glow to act as a source of light. He looked into the hand mirror and watched as the golden lettering around him coalesced into his Titles and Deeds.

Titles:

Michael Mann

The Restored

Soldier of Stent

The Wound Man

Deeds:

Bridge Holder

Revenge Denier

Run Conqueror

Resilient Competitor

Fort Healer

Righteous Defender

Castle Taker

Baron Breaker

Blessings:

Healing

Pain Transfer

Not just one, but two new Deeds was a surprise. It didn’t take a lot of effort to determine exactly how he’d gotten them. He focused in on Castle Taker first.

Castle Taker

When sieging a structure grants:

Middling Strength

Minor Durability

Minor Recovery

That was quite a boon, though it seemed highly specific. What exactly counted as a structure? Could he claim to be “sieging” a bar he happened to get into a fight inside? A number of the other Deeds had proven fluid, so he’d bet he could be smart with this one as well. He focused in on the other one he’d gained.

Baron Breaker

When facing nobility gain:

Middling Reaction

Middling Strength

The retainer that the count had with him must’ve been a baron. Michael wasn’t sure of exactly how the nobility worked in Tusynia, though he’d gathered at least basic idea of how things worked in Stent. He imagined that barons must be lesser than counts, but the man being a noble himself explained the sheer difference in strength between him and Michael. He had fought heirs on several occasions now, but full-blooded nobles were something else entirely. If he hadn’t been able to lean on his Blessings, his victory would’ve been impossible. He eyed the Deed again. At least in his next encounter with one, he’d have more of an edge.

He pocketed his mirror and let the light produced by his hand fade. He quietly crept back into the room and made his way back to his bed. He was feeling much better after the sleep he’d gotten, but he didn’t know when he’d be able to sleep in a real bed again, so he crawled back into it and pulled the covers back up around himself. Before long, he’d fallen back asleep.

They were woken by the sound of the door to the room crashing against the wall as it was slammed open. Michael and the others sat up with speed, half of them drawing hidden weapons, and Ollie actually channeling what looked to be a small ball of lightning that crackled and bounced in the palm of his hand as he looked around bleary-eyed.

Bayle was standing in the entrance, already dressed and wearing his armor. Michael wasn’t certain the man had slept, but the circles under his eyes seemed to have lightened, and his motions had the same steady strength that they’d had before the siege.

“Get up and get dressed—quickly.”

They all immediately rolled out of bed and started lacing trousers and tightening belts.

“I kind of expected a rest after crawling through a sewer and helping take a castle,” said Ollie as he slipped on his boiled leather breastplate.

“And you’d deserve one. Unfortunately, this can’t wait.”

They all exchanged a look.

“What is it?” asked Davi.

“A Rift has appeared in a nearby village.”

“A Rift? Like the ones that destroyed the Humelands?” asked Pyotr, repeating what they’d learned in a long-ago Q&A session they’d earned from Kline. “I thought they only appeared near Old Hume? Since the Cataclysm.”

“Apparently, that’s no longer the case.”