Free His Conquering Sword by Kate Elliott Page B

with sticks. But Tess happened to walk by and she stopped them.”
    “You’re casual about it.”
    Aleksi laughed, recalling what Bakhtiian had said to his niece. “The gods never give out unmixed blessings. So who am I to complain about bruises and a broken arm and collarbone when it brought me Tess as a sister?”
    One of the things Aleksi liked about Dr. Hierakis was that she could laugh compassionately. “Who, indeed?”
    “You see, they demanded to know what right she had to stop them meting out the justice I did, after all, deserve, for stealing one of their horses, and she said, ‘the right of a sister.’ And so she adopted me.”
    “Did she consult Bakhtiian?”
    “Why would she consult Bakhtiian? She brought me back to her tent and nursed me back to health and I became her brother and have been ever since, and always will be. Bakhtiian did take me into his jahar, then, but he might well have done so anyway—although, if Tess hadn’t adopted me the Mirskys would have killed me sooner or later, so I suppose I’ll never know if Bakhtiian took me into his jahar to give me his protection or because he admired my fighting.”
    “Perhaps both.”
    “Perhaps.”
    “Well, you’ve led a harrowing life, Aleksi.”
    He sipped at his tea. “I’m content.” And he was.
    “End recording,” said the doctor to the air. “Will you come with me?” she asked. She passed through into the inner chamber. Respectfully, he followed after her.
    In this miraculous den, many strange and wondrous machines cluttered the long narrow table and crowded into each other on the carpets. An image shimmered in the air. Aleksi recognized it immediately: the shrine of Morava, with its great shining dome and its twin towers framing the curved expanse of roof.
    “That’s where the prince is,” he said in surprise.
    Cara glanced at the shrine. The image was so lifelike that Aleksi could not believe that he himself was not standing some distance from the actual shrine, seeing it with his own eyes. Had she witched it and brought it here, making it small enough to fit in her tent? But no, Tess said that the machines called modelers made images of things, not the things themselves.
    “Lie down there.” The doctor patted a low couch with one hand. On this couch, Bakhtiian had slept through his coma. “I’m going to scan you. You saw when I did the same thing to Tess. Take off your saber first, and any gold or metal—yes, your belt buckle.”
    Aleksi did as he was told and gingerly lay down on the pallet. Tess had lain here without the slightest sign of nervousness. Now, the doctor spoke a few Anglais words he did not recognize and he felt the air hum around him. Then she took a little box, lit with jewels of light, into her right hand and, starting at his head, passed it down over his body. The humming air moved as well, like an invisible ring of pressure, down along his torso and his hips, down his legs, dissipating at last by his feet. It took a long time. Torn between awe and fear and curiosity, he watched his spirit drawn into the air at the foot of the couch. His spirit shone as brightly as Bakhtiian’s and Tess’s did, which surprised him a little, and yet, hadn’t the gods gifted him with many blessings?
    “Lady in Heaven. This is astonishing. You’re a perfect specimen, Aleksi. No wonder you survived your hell of a childhood. I think you may well be one of the keys I need to crack the code. I think whatever tinkering those damned chameleons did to the humans they transplanted here bred true in you. Have you ever been sick, a day in your life?
    Aleksi thought about this, since it was the only thing in her entire speech that he understood. “No, not that I remember.”
    “And your reflexes—I must find a way to test them. I’ll just bet that they’re part of the package. Aleksi, have you ever thought about having children?”
    There were definitely times when Aleksi thought the doctor was a little mad. “Every man