"Two big, tough sentries for little ol' me?" Zulyeva crowed, slightly amused and wondering what Deilayni wanted now. She would have thought the woman would be grieving for her daughter rather than having meetings today.
"The Lady seems to think it's needed," the other sentry informed her.
So Zulyeva was marched down the familiar hallways, drawing curious stares from those she knew and concerned glances from those she didn't as she went. When the door was opened to Lady Deilayni's study, both Lord Gedran and Lady Deilayni were inside.
"So glad you could make it," Deilayni purred. "Please, have a seat. We have some very important matters to discuss regarding my late daughter Reive."
Zulyeva seated herself in the chair across from Deilayni's. "Really."
"Really," Deilayni snapped. "Like why did you giver her such a strong medicine in her weak condidtion? Didn't you know she could have had a reaction?"
"I knew the risks," Zulyeva replied calmly. "But I had to take them if she were to have any chance of surviving."
"Who gave you permission to take those risks?" Lord Gedran rumbled. "You ought to ask permission before administering life threatening treatment."
"Since when do I or anyone else need permission to perform the duties of my craft?" Zulyeva snapped. "It was her only hope."
"When you're dealing with my children, you do," Deilayni reminded her sharply. "They're much to precious to be given harmful medicines without my consent."
Zulyeva rolled her eyes but held her tounge. These Holders were all the same. They thoguht just because they had a 'Lord' or a 'Lady' attached to the front of their name that they had some immunity to the symptoms of diseases. "I will remember to consult you before making any more medical decisions," Zulyeva assured Deilayni sarcastically. "After all, you are the more experienced healer."
Deilayni sucked in an outraged breath. "You crafters, always so confident. Downright cocky sometimes."
"We do our best," Zulyeva gave her a bittersweet smile.
"Perhaps you need a change of profession," Deilyani purred, voice low and threatening. "Perhaps you could get rid of that nasty little attitude as a drudge, hmm?"
"Just try it," Zulyeva dared her, eyes snapping with outrage. She'd dedicated the past three sevendays to saving Reive's life and this was how she was repayed. When she got back to her quarters, she was wasking for a transfer.
"I think I will," Deilayni announced. "Draneg, Lertin," she called to the two sentries, who had been outside the door the entire time, "please escort Zulyeva down to her new quarters and get her some drudge's garb. We can't have her ruining those lovely clothes in the kitchens."
"They'll come looking for me when I don't return to the hall!" Zulyeva protested as her hands were bound. "You can't just lock away a healer and expect people not to worry."
"Not if they think you're dead," Deilayni reminded her with a little chuckle. "Eaten by a wild feline, I suppose. We never found the body. Yes, I think I'll send a note over to the hall to tell them of your unfortunate death."
Zulyeva opened her mouth to say something but was silenced as a wad of cloth was stuffed in her mouth. A wet wad of cloth. Soaked, she realized, in fellis. She could already feel the effects of the fellis taking place. It was harder and harder to keep her eyelids open. When she was carried out a back passageway down to the kitchens, Zulyeva didn't even wake up.
Some time later she awoke in the a room not far from the kitchens. "Put these on," a gruff woman's voice commanded, and a wad of rags was thrown at her. Zulyeva quickly complied, watching wistfully as her old clothes were thrown down the laundry shoot, probably never to be seen again.
"Now, come with me, there's much to be done," Zulyeva looked up to see that the owner of the voice was a stocky gray haired old woman in clothes of little better condition than the rags she now wore. Zulyeva followed her dutifully. Better to act cowed now, that way no one would suspect anything when she started planning her escape later.
