Dangerous Talents Read Online Free PDF Page B

not, would go about dressed—or undressed—as she is.”
    An image of Lady Celia’s bare legs, scratched and bruised, surfaced and lingered for a moment in Dahleven’s mind. He glanced over to where Ghav tended the lady. Were he a healer, he could be the one smoothing salve on those long legs. But that was not his Talent. Dahleven forced his thoughts back to the subject at hand. “True. And no Nuvinlander or Tewakwe ever had gear such as she carries. Did you see that buckle? And the map!”
    “And the Lady was truly distressed when she couldn’t read it,” Sorn added.
    “But she read what I wrote in the sand.”
    “Could she be Fey-marked?” Sorn asked softly.
    An involuntary shiver made Dahleven twitch. “Perhaps. But she doesn’t quite have the feel of it. I once met a man who’d been taken by the Fey. He saw things that weren’t there.”
    “Then perhaps it is as she says. She is not of Alfheim.”
    They were silent again, mulling over the implications.
    If she wasn’t of Alfheim, then she must be from Midgard. That realm must have changed greatly since Freyr led our ancestors from it .
    Somehow, Lady Celia had traveled the Bifrost, just as their Vinland ancestors had some eight hundred years ago. But why was she here alone? Surely only a god could open the way for her. “Why would Freyr bring a solitary, half dressed woman to Alfheim?”
    Sorn shrugged. “Who know why the gods act as they do? Perhaps a Tewakwe Shaman invoked their gods and brought her across.”
    “But why, then, is she wandering alone in the drylands rather than safe in the Confederation? And why this woman, who is clearly not of their people?
    “Could someone with a Great Talent have pulled her unwilling over the rainbow bridge?” Sorn’s voice dropped, as if he didn’t want to speak the thought aloud
    The hair on the back of Dahleven’s neck rose. Was it possible? Would Baldur and Freyr allow it? No one had used a Great Talent in Nuvinland for a hundred and fifty years. But who then had brought her here? And how?
    Which brought him back to Lady Celia and the puzzle she presented.
    “She may well be an innocent,” Dahleven said, “but we know nothing about her. I put her in your charge, Sorn. Watch her, and help her keep pace tomorrow.” They’d have to move fast to get their news about the Outcast and Renegade alliance back to Nuvinland in time for the Althing.
     
    *
     
    Ghav knelt at Cele’s feet, moistening a fairly clean cloth. He looked more like a bear than a Healer. Curly hair covered the backs of his huge hands and sunburned arms and the hair on his head was prematurely gray. Most of his beard remained dark, but two stripes starting from the corners of his mouth were nearly white. Bushy eyebrows sprang from his forehead and were much darker than his hair, still showing most of their original brown.
    Cele tensed in anticipation as Ghav prepared to clean her scratches.
    He looked up at her. “I’ll not hurt you, my lady.”
    Cele tried to relax. His touch was surprisingly gentle for a man with such large hands, and when he cleaned her scrapes it didn’t hurt at all. He worked slowly, holding the cloth against a particularly stiff scab, letting the warmth of his hands sooth the soreness, though she no longer had any pain that needed easing. When the scrapes and bruises on her arms and legs were all clean, he unstoppered a jar containing a light brown ointment and daubed it on the scratches.
    Cele had started to relax under Ghav’s gentle, painless ministrations, but she came alert and pulled away a little at the first application of Ghav’s concoction. “What is that?”
    “It’s nothing to fear, my lady. This will prevent the wounds from going bad.”
    “What’s it made of?”
    “Are you a Healer, my lady? Do you know herbs?”
    Cele shook her head.
    “I won’t recite them, then. Various herbs have the properties of preventing putrefaction in a wound. This is a decoction of such herbs, mixed in an oil