Merovingen - Fever Season Part 8

"That's more words in a row without coughing than you've managed yet tonight-" Raj pointed out. "We'll sugar it next time." Without being asked, Jones brought the whiskey and a pair of asprin tablets, and looked inquiringly at Raj.

"Good notion-" he approved, thinking that a bit more whiskey wouldn't hurt and might help the wiregra.s.s keep Mondragon in his bed. "Tom-1 hate to ask, but is there anything around here 1 could use for a bandage? I love old May, but I hate to think where her rags have been."

"Bathroom," said Mondragon around the asprin, and: "I'll get it," said Jones.

Mondragon sagged back against his pillows, eyes going unfocused again. Raj carefully unwrapped his hand. The numbvine was working quite well-and May had included a bit of it and some other things in his pack for when this dose wore off.

The wound looked bad, red and swollen, but it was sealing shut and Raj knew by the look that it wasn't infected yet.

"That's a knife-wound." Mondragon was staring at the wounded hand, surprised and shocked alert.

"It is. Tom-I know you think I'm a kid, and you're right sometimes-but you're not right all the time. I had to go into the swamp for that stuff-May was the only place short of a real doctor where I was going to find what you needed. A man tried to stop me-''

Now Mondragon looked alarmed and wary, and Raj could have kicked himself for not thinking. Of course, Mondragon .would suspect those enemies of his of trying to follow Raj- "No, no," he hastened to a.s.sure him. "Nothing to do with 100.Mercedes Lackey A PLAGUE ON YOUR HOUSES.

101.

you, he was a crazy. 1 had lo fight him to get through. That's where I got this, and lost my own knife."

"Was?"

"Was. And don't you ever tell Denny I killed a man. He wasn't the first-but I don't want Denny to knew about that."

"You have a reason?" Mondragon was staying focused, which rather surprised Raj, given the amount of whiskey and wiregra.s.s he had in him, not to mention the fever.

"Because-" Raj looked up from his hand, and he knew his eyes and mouth were bitter. "He'1! think he has to be like me. Next thing you know, he'll go out looking; he'll either get himself killed-or he'll kill somebody, and for all the wrong reasons. And that would be worse than him getting killed. I remember more than just you from home-1 remember what some of the younger Swords were like when they were my age, and Denny's. They started like that-first each one trying to out-risk the other-then it got worse. 1 don't think he'd ever turn out like them-but I'm not taking any chances on it."

Mondragon nodded, slowly; relaxing and letting himself give way to the drugs and the alcohol. "I think maybe I have been underestimating you."

"Only sometimes. You getting sleepy yet?"

He coughed hard again, then got it under control. "Getting there-and feeling a great deal less like death would be welcome."

"That's the whole idea-Tom-" An idea occurred to him, and he decided he wanted to broach it while Mondragon was in a generous-and intoxicated-mood. "Could you do me a favor? When you feel more like talking?"

"Maybe," Mondragon replied wearily, obviously wis.h.i.+ng Raj would leave him alone, as Jones came in behind Raj with clean bandage, salve and tape. "What's the favor?"

Raj felt his face flame with embarra.s.sment. He hated to ask in front of Jones, but this might be his only chance. "Could you-could you tell me some time-how to-how to get a girl-to-to like you?" And what to do with her after you do-, he thought, but did not say.

"Oh, mercy-" Mondragon shut his eyes and leaned his head back on his pillow, his mouth twitching. Raj had the uncomfortable suspicion that he was trying to keep from laughing.

"If you'd rather not-"

"Later, Raj. We'll see about it later." Mondragon opened one eye, and gave him a not-unsympathetic wink, then coughed again, harder this time, and lost his amus.e.m.e.nt as a shudder of chill shook him. "Surely it can wait?"

"Sure--sure-" Raj hastily backed out of the bedroom, taking the bandages from Jones as he pa.s.sed her. By the time she joined him, he was sitting on the couch, trying to rebandage his wound one-handed.

"Here, ye fool, let me do that." She took the things away from him and undid his clumsy work. He leaned back into the soft upholstery and allowed her to do what she wanted. "How much of this stuff of yours he gonna need?"

"Just what's in the canister."

"Ye brung back a lot more'n that-"

"I know. I could catch it again, or Denny, or you. There's likely to be a use for it before a cold snap kills the fever. May - says I can come trade her for more, anyway." ',"Ye know-this could be worth somethin'."

*v "The thought crossed my mind-but I was mostly doing it for Tom."

"I owe ye one. Raj," she said softly, earnestly.

He relaxed and shut his eyes, feeling tired and bruised ;:.-* muscles go slack. "Don't go talking karma at me, you rene- ' gade Adventist."

*& "d.a.m.nfool hightowner," she jeered back.

"Not any more. Just one of Gallandry's clerks." Fatigue made irrelevant thoughts swim past, and one of them caught ;. what little was left of his attention. A thought and a memory of a couple days past.

What the h.e.l.l. "Jones-it's 'aren't' when you're talking about 'you' or more than one person, and 'isn't' ail the rest of 102.

Mercedet Lackey the time. Exept when you're talking about yourself, then it's 'am not.' Got it? Think that'll help?"

He cracked an eyelid open to see her staring open-mouthed at him. "How did ye-"

"Noticed you fis.h.i.+ng for it the other day, figured n.o.body'd ever given you the rule. Hard to figure things out if n.o.body tells you the rules. Rat could help you better'n I could. She was an actress for a while, and she knows all the tricks. She could make-" (yawn) "-Kalugin sound like a ca.n.a.lsider, or a ca.n.a.lsider sound like-" (yawn) "-Kalugin." His lids sagged, and he battled to stay awake.

"Ain't n.o.body put it quite that way before-" she said thoughtfully, while Raj stifled another yawn and a giggle. "Huh. d.a.m.n, this's a bad 'un. Looks like it hurts like h.e.l.l. What'd ye do here, ram yer hand down on the point?"

"Had to, he outweighed me by about twice; was the only way I could think to get it away from him." He ran his right hand up to check the knots on the back of his head and encountered his npt-too-nice hair. And remembered- "Oh, h.e.l.l!"

"What's the matter? I hurt ye?" Jones looked up, startled.

"There's no food in the house, I need a bath worse tHan I ever did in my life, all the clothes are filthy and have to be washed and I don't have a copperbit for any of it! I spent every last coin 1 had on trade-goods for May! Oh, h.e.l.l!" He squeezed his eyes shut to stop their burning, but a few, shameful tears bom of exhaustion and, frustration escaped to embarra.s.s him. To have gone through this whole night only to have run up against this~ "Ne-not to get aslant-" Jones still had his hand, and he managed to get enough control of himself to crack open his eyes to look at her. She was smiling broadly, and pointedly not looking at his tears. "I reckon Tom owes ye a good bit-we got food here, we got hot water an' soap. Ye want, I can pole ye back to Fife when Denny wakes up, get yer things, bring it all back here. Given that hand, 1 reckon I could help ye with the clothes, even. Ye just be d.a.m.n sure not to waste nothin'. That suit?"

A PLAGUE ON YOUR HOUSES.

10).

Relief turned his muscles to slush and he sagged back. "More than suits-"

"Ye got that thinking look again."

"You get most of your work at night, right?"

She looked more than a little uncomfortable, but nodded.

"We work days. So-if you wanted, we could stay here just long enough for him to gel better. Or-h.e.l.l, half the town's sick; you could take a note to Gallandry saying we are, and we could even spell you in the daytime that way. Ancestors! The way 1 feel right now it wouldn't even be a lie! I figure he should be getting better in four, five days, a week, tops. We watch for trouble whiJe you're out, whenever. We can feed him too, make sure he takes the medicine; keep him from going out when he isn't ready to."

"And you get?"

"Food and hot baths. 1 know d.a.m.nsure Tom can afford to eat better than we can." He grinned; wearily, his bruised racial muscles aching. "You'll have to talk him into covering the pay we'd lose, though. h.e.l.l, Jones, you know we can't afford losing pay any more than you can."

"I know he trusts you." She looked back to the hand she held, and finished taping it up carefully. "I 'spect after tonight ye've proved it out. We got weapons enough, 'tween the two of us. An' if I don't show up for too long, it's gonna look funny. We don't dare let anybody guess he ain't okay. All right; ye do that." She sniffed, her mouth quirking a little contemptuously. "h.e.l.l, the way he throws his money around he'll cover ye if I say."

"We'll cook and clean up after ourselves."

"Ye d.a.m.n sure better, 'cause 1 ain't gonna-" She looked iip from her bandaging to see he'd fallen completely asleep, wedged into the corner of the couch. His head was sagging against the couch cus.h.i.+ons, and he'd gone as limp as a loaf of watersoaked bread. She chuckled, and went to find him a blanket, Rif glanced around at the crowd in Hoh's. It was pretty satisfactory for a weeknight. Tomorrow the place should be 104.

Mercedes Lackey packed. She grinned at her partner, and Rat grinned back, throwing in an unexpected descant harmony.

d.a.m.n! Been practicin' that on th' sly! Rif grinned harder in appreciation. Sounds right fine- She glanced around the bar to see how the customers were taking it.

Well, "Fever Season" was a weirdling enough tune, and with that lost-soul wailing added to it-the marks were s.h.i.+vering, pretending it wasn't getting to 'em, and gulping down their beer like it was last chance before Retribution. Hoh was gonna love it. Probably ask 'em to do it every set from here on in. And Rat would nod and say something hightown and noncommittal, and they'd sing what they d.a.m.ned well pleased, same as always.

Then over Rat's shoulder, she saw Hoh's boy, Mischa, standing in the hallway and signaling frantically. Cut it short- trouble, and it's got your name on it.

She nodded understanding, and pa.s.sed the signal on to Rat with a quirk of the eyebrows and a jerk of her chin.

They wrapped it up; packed up their instruments and headed for the back hall, Mischa uncharacteristically silent.

**What-" Rat began, then saw.

Just inside the back door stood Black Cal, all six-odd feet of him-wheezing and nearly bent over with coughing, and glaring like he was ready to bite Rif in two.

"/ thought you said you'd taken care of this!"

FEVER SEASON (REPRISED).

CJ. Ckerryk

Jones waited, that was the only thing to do, perched herself on a straight chair in the corner and shut her eyes, half-sleeping, the way she would on ca.n.a.lside, waiting on a fare . . . only it was on toward dawn and Del and Min, who would have come in after her to tie-up last night, would be casting off to go about their business in an hour or so and leaving her skip to whatever came along-couldn't expect a thing else. Had to get moving soon.

But whenever she looked at Mondragon in the lamp-light, whenever he waked her with one of his coughing fits, she liked the look of it less and less.

The last one he got choked on, and when she handed him a cup of water, he was too far gone to manage it himself, slopped it all over and got the sheets wet when she tried to help him and he broke out coughing in the middle of a drink.

"d.a.m.n," he had tried to say, but it had come out half-strangled. And after that he just sort of fell back and was gone again.

And the boys went on sleeping, Raj done in with his hand and Denny sleeping like a lump, whatever. Could've d.a.m.n well choked, she thought in panic. And then thought back to a time she had had the coughs and managed, that was all; a 105.

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C.J. Cherry*

body just managed. If it got no worse it was all right, and Raj had him drugged, that was why he couldn't fend for himself, d.a.m.n heavy dose and all that whiskey.

"No." he murmured then. "No."

And broke up in coughing, deep, painful-sounding coughs that were doing no good. It hurt all the way to her gut.

But it stopped after a moment. He lay there with his eyes half-open, made a weak movement of his hand. Let it fall.

"You need something?" Jones asked.

"Home?" he asked.

"Yey, you're home. Right." Her heart sped in panic. She got up and carefully, because Mondragon could knock her right across the room, put her hand on his forehead. "Oh, d.a.m.n, you're burning."

"What day?"

"What day is it? Wensday. No, Thursday. Why's it matter?"

He grimaced strangely as if he was facing into the sun. Coughed and m.u.f.fled it, "You want a drink?"

He shut his eyes. There had gotten to be a rattle in his breathing. She brushed back the hair that was stringing down into his face. Patted him helplessly and went and sat down again, hands clenched between her knees.

Her own nose ran. She wiped it on her sleeve. But that was what a body got from being a d.a.m.n fool, out in the harbor, an ache like fire across her shoulders and up her arm where she had worked the fuel pump, and bruises about the armpit where the tiller had battered her and down her leg where she had had her foot braced against the strain. Ordinary aches. What had got its claws into Mondragon was what Raj said, the hard stuff.

Her mama had died of fever. Retribution Jones, that nothing else could stop, not weather, not the harbor waves, not any no-good in the dark ways . . . had choked her life out in her arms. And there had been no cure. No blueangel, not a thing else she had tried, a scared kid and caught between her mama's order not to leave the skip and the knowledge that her mama was dying, in a place where the two-legged scav- FEVER SEASON (REPRISED).

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engers might not wait til! a body was dead before moving in. She had known the danger to her mama if she left her. She had known that for sure. And made the wrong choice, followed her mama's orders and ended up trying to keep her mama breathing all one long, long night. And lost.

Leave her skip down there with no one to watch it, that was asking to get it pilfered. Lose the gun . . . that was d.a.m.n near as bad as all the rest of it put together.

Stay here with her skip below-that was saying to everyone on the ca.n.a.ls that Mondragon was here, that something was odd. And gossip got sold, by them as had no scruples.

Have her skip tailed off with Del Suleiman- Possible, but the same problem: every one of Mondragon's enemies who knew they were linked would start wondering and asking.

Safest thing for him, dammit, was her on the ca.n.a.ls, every day and dark, same schedule, close as she could make it.

But if the fever got worse, if he went off his head- If he went crazy like in the nightmares- The boys might not be able to handle him. She might not. Her mama had split her Up for her, and loosened a tooth, and never known it. Retribution had had a good right hand. But mama was nothing to what Tom Mondragon knew how to do if he woke up not knowing where he was.

She wiped her mouth with a sleeve that smetled of oil and harbor, and stared at Mondragon with a despair that did not want (o reckon of the worse possibility-that the situation was more than they could handle.

She went over to him again and knelt down by him and shook at him. "Mondragon," she said. "You was with Kaiugin. You was on that boat. What did Kalugin say t' ye? What was ye doing, that ye didn't come home?"

Because there was Kalugin in the middle of it somehow. It was from Kalugin's hands that her partner had come back like this, desperate and fevered, having sent a message, Raj had told her, to them and not to her.

It was not the first time she had asked him those same questions. But Mondragon had sworn there was no problem. Between trying to cough his lungs up. It had been an errand he wanted Raj to do.

108.

C). Cherryh After he had d.a.m.ned well been missing through the night and most of the day.