The now healed prisoners were talking the others into coming into the shack. For a moment Edwin had thought that he wouldn’t have enough sludge, but as the last prisoner ate his portion, there was still some left over in the pot.

They had to wait for the sunset, but when it finally came, they went back towards the gates with the pot and the prisoners trailing behind them. The guards raised their spears in warning, and the one who had led them the night before stepped forward.

“Are they cured?” He asked, and Edwin nodded. He noticed that the guard had blood at the corner of his lips.

“Good as new, well, if one doesn’t look for signs of malnutrition,” Said Edwin. The guard reached out for the pot, but Edwin took it away.

“Your lungs must be cleaned of the mucus first. Then you will eat the blood root mixture,” The guards began crowding towards Edwin. Was there anyone healthy in the entire town?

“Do you have a water supply fed by any underground rivers?” Asked Edwin, the guards. Just because the sickness had spread through water at Bern and Leila’s didn’t mean that it was restricted to just this source.

“Do you see any rivers, man? All our water sources are from the underground river,” Snapped a guard, and then he reached out to the pot. “My young one needs this, and you wasted how much on the prisoners?”

“Just because we are forced in chains we don’t deserve to live, is that it?” Snapped, Ben and some burlier prisoners stepped forward.

“Blood root is an easy plant to find and harvest. Do you have a healer in town? I want to share the cure with them. But first, I seem to have enough for three more people. Decide among yourselves who gets cured,” said Edwin, eyeing the sludge.

“Don’t waste it on us. The children need it more? And speaking of children, why is this boy without his shackles?” Said the guard with the sick child.

“They were restricting his blood circulation. How was he going to get better?” Asked Hadrian with a lopsided smile. The guard pointed at the other prisoners.

“And they? Don’t they have a need for better blood circulation?” The guards burst out laughing as Hadrian rubbed the back of his head.

“You are all men of the law,” said Edwin to the guards. “You know as well as anyone that prisoners have their sentences reduced after being used by healers as test subject. The boy already lost his hand. Surely, this is grounds enough to have his sentence lifted altogether.”

“You don’t decide that, sir,” said the guard against last night. His respect for Edwin having grown after Edwin delivered a cure. “But we won’t give you grief for this. Someone shackle the boy and let us put the matter behind us.”

Hadrian stepped in front of Ben, but Edwin placed a hand on his shoulder.

“He won’t be in shackles for long. Pick your battles,” said Edwin, hating that he sounded like his textbooks in the academy. Hadrian rolled his eyes, but stepped to the side.

Ben looked on defiantly as he was being chained anew. He sent Edwin a glare, but then his eyes fell on the pot and his gaze softened.

“Prisoners, go back to the field. You have work to do. Hedge healer and vampire, we will make a small stop for guard Rollo’s three children, and then you will get a meeting with the mayor.”

As Ben walked away with the rest of the prisoners, he waved at Hadrian with his good hand. Hadrian assumed a military pose and saluted, which caused the prisoners to go into a fit of giggles, Ben chief among them.

The guards led the duo to an apartment building that was ten stories high. It looked admirable on the outside. Edwin, send the guard a questioning look.

“One good thing about being a guard is that the state provides you with a home. And since we are the muscle behind Orc’s rest town, we get good accommodations. You should see the healer’s house, though. If you settle here, after the town is cured and all, you will be treated like a prince,” said the guard. Hadrian nudged Edwin.

“Hear that, Eddy? A healer who does nothing as his patients drop from something that can be solved with blood root has a mansion, but the orphans don’t have an orphanage,” Hadrian sent the guard a withering glare, and if looks could kill, the man would be dead.

“No one likes it, but it is the policy of the whole region of Torklia province. Healers first, then the first class citizens, then everything after that,” said the guard. He spat at the side, showing the two just what he thought about that policy, and began climbing the apartment building’s stairs.

Gray flags were hanging from each apartment door and finally, when they were on the eight floors, the guard stopped before the third door next to the stairs and pulled out his key.

A weak and pale woman opened the door and was reduced to coughing. Guard Rollo steadied her and helped her go back inside. Three children came running. They were all pale, but looked better than their mother.

“This woman doesn’t have much left, guard, Rollo. Maybe I should treat her first. The children can wait a couple of hours,” said Edwin. The woman began shaking her head.

“My children. Help my children.”

“Erzbet, don’t strain yourself,” said guardsman Rollo. Edwin placed a hand on her forehead.

“Ma’am, you are burning up. Your children can still run. You can barely stay upright,” said Edwin. By law, healers couldn’t force anyone to be healed. They could, however, quarantine them in their homes and isolate them, so their sickness wouldn’t spread. This woman wouldn’t survive by herself even for another hour. Edwin didn’t want to be responsible for her death.

“Listen, lovely lady. Erzbet, was it? Lovely name. Did you know, Erzbet, that there is no orphanage in town?” Asked Hadrian suddenly. He was dead serious, for once, despite his tone being teasing.

“Rollo will still be…” And she began coughing anew.

“He is a guard, Erzbet. One rowdy thief, one brigand attack, heck, one corrupt noble, and your children will be on the streets. We healed a boy with a missing hand. I’ll give you a hint: it didn’t fall on its own,” said Hadrian.

Erzbet gasped at what she was hearing and looked at her children. Their blue eyes were looking at her with worry and childish innocence.

“Fine, heal me. But after you get more medicine, come back here for the children,” pleaded Erzbet. Edwin saw from the corner of his eye the next door creak open.

“You have a cure?” Said a hunched over man. He looked to be no older than Edwin’s twenty years. The children could wait, but he was going to be back to this building. And he was going to kick the town’s healer into action, or so help him.