Critical Miss

Finally, the narrow road led them around a twist and there it was, just past a blacksmith’s.  A swinging sign with a mortar and pestle above a narrow door. 

“Here!  A Healer’s!” Hulfrick the Meek said, hurrying along with Kalydra in his wake.  “Open the door!” 

His own arms were full – he carried the mighty fallen warrior Brawndown over one shoulder; at least the blood had stopped leaking down, and Hulfrick didn’t have to worry about jostling the corpse.  His other arm was around the waist of their leader, Strongbold, who was faint with loss of blood but still living.  Had Hulfrick not borrowed the Gauntlets of Heavy Carrying from their stricken chief, he never would have been able to hoist one, let alone both, of his comrades.

Kalydra the Sagacious threw back her robe with an impressive sweep of her arm and lifted the latch.  She opened the door and entered.

“Well, come on,” she said.

 Hulfrick was having difficulties.  “I can’t seem to get through the door with both of them,” he said.

“Well, just put Brawndorn down.  He won’t notice the difference.  Get Strongbold in here.”

Hulfrick gently placed Brawndorn face-up on the muddy street.  Flies quickly located his slack mouth and half-open eyes.

“No – no – we must protect our companion,” Strongbold wheezed.

“He can wait,” Kalydra said.  “You cannot.”

Hulfrick pulled Strongbold into the Healer’s.  It was a small room, with a long bench along one wall.  A desk sat near the other wall, and behind it were narrow shelves holding potions, amulets, bottled creature parts, and enchanted crystals and orbs.  At the far end of the room was another door.  No one was there to greet them, however.

“Healer!  I say, Healer!” Hulfrick called.  He helped Strongbold to the bench, where the large man slumped, half-conscious.

The door at the other side of the room opened and a woman stepped through, still tying her skirts.  “Apologies,” she said.  “I was, er, taking care of business.”

“Did you wash your hands afterwards?” Hulfrick asked.

The woman gave him a hard look.  “Oh.  One of those types.  Everyone’s an expert.”  She compromised by wiping her hands on her skirts.  “I am Solimir the Compassionate.  What have we here?”

“Our friend and leader, Strongbold of Dunharrow, has been struck down,” Kalydra said.  “A treacherous troll leapt out from a hidden nook in a darkened hall, and before we could fell him, Brawndown the warrior was torn nearly in half.  Rushing to his colleague's aid, Strongbold was also viciously attacked.  It was not until I managed to cast a powerful, debilitating spell on the monster—”

“Plus, I crushed its skull with my mace,” Hulfrick said.

“—that we were able to neutralize the creature,” Kalydra continued.  “But the damage had been done, and our own cleric, Hulfrick the Submissive—”

“Meek,” Hulfrick said.  “Hulfrick the Meek.  I don’t know why you always—”

“Yes, our cleric, here, found his own healing abilities unequal to the task.”

“It’s just embarrassing.  ‘Meek’ – it’s not hard to remember.  And I did the best I could, with the healing,” Hulfrick said.

“I understand,” Solimir said.  She came forward and bent over Strongbold.  “This mighty combatant is clearly in need of strong healing magic.”

“I’ll be fine,” Strongbold managed to say.  “A little rest.  Maybe some broth.  But Brawndorn—”

But Solimir was already peeling a reddened bandage from Strongbold’s shoulder, wrinkling her nose.  The wound had begun to stink.  “You’ll need much more than broth and rest,” she said.  “Who put this dressing on?  A woodland animal of some sort?”

Hulfrick said, “I didn’t have much time.  I tried.  But—“

 “The wound hasn’t even been cleaned!” Solimir said.  “And it’s clear that there are some broken ribs as well.”  She gingerly touched his chest, and Strongbold whimpered through clenched teeth.

“You can help him, though, right?” Kalydra asked.

“Of course I can,” Solimir said.

“Good,” Hulfrick said.  He took the heavy gauntlets off and rummaged in his pack.  “We have money.  Twenty gold pieces, right?”

“You said he is from Dunharrow.  Is that right?”

“Yes, Dunharrow.”

“That’s quite a distance from here,” Solimir said.  “Four- or five-days’ travel.”

“Yes,” Kalydra said.  “We’ve been hired to take out a band of orcs in the area.”

“Here’s the money,” Hulfrick said, holding out a leather bag.

“Did you register your change of address with the local Adventurer’s Guild once you got here?” Solimir asked.

“There was no time for that,” Kalydra said.  “We followed the orcs to their lair, and for three days we have been making our way through their underground fortress, battling all manner of evil men and creatures.”

“So, here’s the money,” Hulfrick said again.  “He really needs healing right away, right?”

“I don’t think you understand,” Solimir said.   “The cost will be four hundred gold pieces.”

Hulfrick dropped the bag to his side.  “Four hundred?” he asked.

 “Or the equivalent in precious gems,” Solimir said.  “Of course, that’s not counting any co-pays you may have from the Apothecary Guild for any healing draughts or compresses that your comrade may require as part of his long-term care.”

“That’s outrageous!” Kalydra said.  “Never have we paid more than fifty – and that time Strongbold was near death!”

“I’m sorry,” Solimir said.  “The costs may be higher than you are used for a couple of reasons.  First of all, there is a higher charge for non-scheduled, emergency visits.”

“How could a surprise attack be scheduled?” Kalydra asked.  “It’s not like we had an appointment with the troll!”

“Yes, I understand,” Solimir said.  “It can seem unfair, can’t it?”

“You said there were a couple of reasons for the high price,” Hulfrick said.

“Oh, yes.  Well, you see, you’re out of the Guild network.  Your usual copay is void.  Now, if you had registered your new address, applied for membership in the local Adventurers’ Guild, that would be another thing.”

 “But four hundred?” Hulfrick said.  “That’s an awful lot of money!”

“No way are we paying four hundred,” Kalydra said.

“I’m afraid there’s really no choice, since you’re not members of the local Guild.”

“Fine!” Kalydra said.  “We’ll go to the Guild office right now, get signed up.  Four hundred!  Unheard of.”

“You can do that,” Solimir said.  “But the benefits don’t kick in for seven business days, and I’m afraid by that time… well, your friend will need much more than a healing spell.  And revivification spells would run you two hundred, two hundred-fifty, at least, even with membership.  And that’s without taking into account that the death was caused by a pre-existing condition.”

“Pre-existing condition?”

“He was alive before he died,” Solimir explained.  “And life leads inevitably to death.  So clearly, his life is a pre-existing condition.”

“But your own village hired us to take care of the orcs!” Hulfrick said.  “So you have to take care of us!”  He slung his backpack to the floor and began rummaging around in it.  He finally pulled out a piece of parchment and held it up to Solomir.  “Look!  The contract!”

Solomir took the parchment and examined it.  “Oh, well, you see, there aren’t any benefits stipulated in this contract,” she said.  “You were hired as gig workers.”

“What?”  Hulfrick snatched the parchment back and glared at it.

“There must be something you can do!” Kalydra said.  “Can’t you just do the healing, and then we’ll apply to the Guild?  I mean, no one has to know that the spell came before the benefits were allowed, right?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  There’s parchmentwork, you see.  Everything is on record.  I’d be jeopardizing my standing with the Guild.  Besides, all healing needs to be pre-approved by Guild accountants before any spells can be cast.”

“What do accountants have to do with healing?” Kalydra asked.

“Oh, everything. Nothing gets done without the approval of the accountants. Good Heavenly Hosts, how could you possibly run a civilization without accountants to make sure everything gets paid for?”

“We have gold right here,” Kalydra said.

“And I’m sure it’s lovely.  It’s a clear case, so I’m sure everything will be sanctioned.  And if for some reason the accountants don’t approve of the spells, I can give you a partial refund.  Perhaps.”

“How about a generic healing?” Hulfrick asked.  “You know, the kind where you don’t call on any deity, specifically?  I hear they are often a lot cheaper.”

Solimir sadly shook her head.  “I’m afraid your compatriot needs the genuine article,” she said.  “He needs a divinity's close, personal consideration.”

“Funny it works out that way,” Hulfrick said.  “And that means, I suppose, that we have to pay the four hundred.”  He looked up at Kalydra.  “I guess we need to register with the Guild.”

“It’s still a scam,” Kalydra said.  “Registering won’t change that.”

“Sure, this one is. But the next one won’t be.  At least, not quite as much.”

“Four hundred, yes,” Solimir said.  “If the accountants agree.”

“Accountants…”  Kalydra shook her head. “We’ll just have to take our chances with the accountants. It’s not like they’re orcs and we can just kill them.”

“Are you sure?”

Kalydra shrugged.

“They look orcish to me,” Hulfrick said.

“They aren’t even here. How can you say they look orcish?” Solimir asked.

“I’m just practicing. For the appeal after the healing is denied,” Hulfrick told her.

“They do look a bit orcish,” Kalydra said.

“I’ll talk to the accounts,” Solimir said.  “Don’t worry about that.  I’m sure there’ll be no problem.”

“But it’s not fair!” Hulfrick said.  “What we’ve been doing – fighting those orcs, those trolls—”

“That was your own decision,” Solimir said.

“Those monsters have been preying on your villagefolk for years!” Kalydra said.  “We helped you!”

Solimir shrugged.  “If it were up to me…” she said.  “But, you know.”

Kalydra said, “All right, how about this.  We’ve got a friend outside. He’s dead.  What say you heal Strongbold, and also see that our friend is resurrected?  Then we’ll pay the four hundred.”

“Your other friend is dead, you say?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Solomir stroked her chin.  “Well, you see, that would be even more expensive.  A resurrection spell – how long did you say he’s been dead?”

“Only a few hours,” Hulfrick said.

“Then the spell would be one thousand, two hundred more,” Solimir said.  “Since you’re not members of the local guild, and lack coverage.” 

Kalydra was breathing hard.  She looked at Hulfrick, who still seemed stunned, holding the bag of gold in a slack arm.  “I guess we need to talk about this,” she said.

“Of course.”  Solimir bowed slightly and quietly left the room, shutting the door behind her.

“Never mind about me,” Strongbold grunted, clutching at Kalydra.  “Brawndorn – he needs – he needs…”  Then the warrior slumped unconscious.

Kalydra lifted Strongbold’s legs onto the bench and arranged him in some semblance of sleep.  “He’s in a bad way,” she said.

“But four hundred!” Hulfrick said.  “Plus twelve hundred more.  I don’t think we have that much, in spite of all the loot we’ve recovered.”

“I know, I know.”

“I guess there’s bound to be more money back at the lair,” Hulfrick said.  “Those orcs have been waylaying unwary wayfarers for weeks.  Must have a pretty pile by now.”

“But I don’t think your mace and my spells will be enough to battle it out,” Kalydra said.  “Like it or not, Strongbold and Brawndorn are our best warriors.”

“Our best chance for getting more money.”

“Which means, I suppose, that we have to pay the money.  It’s an investment.”

 Hulfrick shook his head.  “It just burns my beard,” he said.  “We’re supposedly the most advanced kingdom on the peninsula, and there’s just no plan for taking care of people in need?  Every village has its own rules, its own set of doctors, and if an outsider needs to use one – bam!  Slit the moneypurses!  And the insurance people walk away rich.”

“I don’t see we have much choice, though,” Kalydra said.

Hulfrick pulled at his beard.  “I guess you’re right.”

Kalyrdra took a deep breath.  “Solimir the Compassionate?” she called.

 The door opened immediately; the healer had probably been listening in.

“We would like to engage your services,” Kalydra said.  “Hulfrick, count out the four hundred.”

“Very good,” Solimir said.  “You know, I don’t make the rules.  If it were up to me, I’d heal him for a chicken, a chicken and a half.  But the accountants, you know—”  She gestured vaguely at a crystal ball.  “—they’d be on me to pay the extra, once they’ve got this in their books.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hulfrick said.  The coins slipped reluctantly through his fingers, one by one.

  Solimir wet her lips.

“There you are,” Hulfrick said.  “Four hundred.”

“Yes, yes, I see,” Solimir said.  “And the resurrection?”

“Let’s see what we got,” Hulfrick said.  He and Kalydra emptied their pouches, and counted out the gold, silver, and copper onto the counter.  Several jewels came out of the pouches, too, and Solimir whipped out a jeweler’s loupe and examined them carefully, making humming noises deep in her throat as she did so.

It wasn’t enough.

Kalydra donated a gold bracelet she had worn for years, and two rings.  Hulfrick threw a ring on the pile, as well, along with some greaves inlaid with silver.  “That’s all I have,” he said.

Solimir looked over everything, turned each object over in her hands, examining it.  Then she shook her head.  “I’m sorry.”

Kalydra said, “Strongbold has some money, I think.”  She and Hulfrick looted the insentient fighter, finding a little gold, a ring, a bracelet.

“That does help,” Solimir said, “but—”

Hulfrick threw down the Gauntlets of Heavy Carrying.  Solimir shook her head.

“What else can we give you?  My helmet?  My axe?” Hulfrick asked.

“I have no way to dispose of such items,” Solimir said.

“Strongbold’s sword,” Kalydra said.

“No!”  Hulfrick said.  He looked at Kalydra.  “Really?”

Kalydra shrugged.

Hulfrick sighed and went over to the bench where Strongbold lay unconscious.  He pulled the warrior’s sword free and brought it to Solimir.

“This should cover the remainder,” he said.  “The Mage-Princess of Mislaid Pursuits herself gave him that.”

“I really have no use for weapons…”  Solimir started to say, and then saw the richly jeweled hilt.  “Hmm.  Interesting.”  She bent over the prize.

Hulfrick caught Kalydra’s eye, shaking his head.  She shrugged.

“Well,” Solimir said, “it appears that the Mage-Princess is just a bit tightfisted.  Most of these gems are nothing more than cut glass, with a glamour cast upon them.”

Hulfrick opened his mouth to speak, but Solimir held up a hand.  “But,” she said, “I suppose it will do.  We can resurrect your companion.”

Kalydra pushed the pile of coins and gems towards Solimir.  “There you go, then, I guess,” she said.

Solimir said, “There is, of course, a small, additional fee of twelve silvers due to the fact that the deceased is in a post-existing condition.”

There was a long pause.

“Twelve silvers?” Hulfrick asked.

“But we paid all this!” Kalydra said.

Solimir shook her head.  “Yes, so sorry,” she said.  “These are the rules agreed to by the Healers’ Association and the Adventurers’ Guild.  If I could change them—”

“But that’s all we have!” Hulfrick said.  “Every sliver of copper, every bright stone!”

“I wish I could help you,” Solimir said.

Kalydra caught Hulfrick’s arm.  “Brawndorn must have some coin,” she said.

Hulfrick nodded.  “Maybe, maybe not.  Every bit of cash passes through his hands and into the coffers of the nearest temple or beggar.  But I’ll go look.”

He came back a moment later and threw some coins down onto the counter.  “That’s all he had,” he said.  “And not a ring or a shiny belt-buckle.”

Solimir counted out the coins.  “It comes to a total of nine silver pieces,” she said.

“Three short,” Kalydra said.  “But we can owe you the rest, right?  I mean—”

“I’m sorry,” Solimir said.

Hulfrick said something rude.  Kalydra puffed in silent fury.  “Fine, then,” she said when her breath was under some measure of control.

Hulfrick and Kalydra began gathering up the money, the jewels, the sword, the rings.

“Well,” Solimir said, “now I can contact the accountants.  And I have to ask you to wait outside while I petition Her Magnificent Overlord and conduct my rituals.  Come back in an hour.”

“Sure, yeah.”  Hulfrick opened the outside door for Kalydra and then followed her outside.

He shut the door behind him.  “Hear that?” he asked.  “She’s calling on Her Magnificent Overlord.  The HMO is always pricey.”  Then he noticed Kalydra’s gaze and looked down, too.

“Nothing we can do for Brawndorn,” Kalydra said.

Hulfrick sighed.  “No, nothing.”

“And by the time we get back from our next quest, he’ll be pretty far gone.”

“Harder to resurrect, even more expensive, and the results are often – well, you know.”

“Let’s not bring up Torhack the Indominatble,” Kalydra said.  “What a shambling horror he turned into!”

“Exactly.  Even after we got the diaper on him, you couldn’t take him anywhere.”

“Well,” Kalydra said, “once Strongbold is back on his feet, we’ll take Brawndown to the undertaker.”

“That would mean money, too,” said Hulfrick.

“Umm,” Kalydra said. 

There was an uncomfortable pause, each avoiding the other’s gaze.  Then Hulfrick said, “Yeah.  And, you know, if you really think about it—”

“It’s not like he would notice a difference,” Kalydra said.

“No, no.  He’s past caring.”

“He wasn’t all that religious, anyway,” said Kalydra.

“Well, no.  I mean, not particularly.  I mean, compared to some people.  Sure, he was always praying.  Sometimes in the middle of a fight, he’d drop to his knees and pray.”

“Yeah,” Kalydra said, “but that was, I mean…”

“For show.”

“Exactly.  Just like all that tithing he did.  All those donations to the poor and the leprous.”

“Right.”

“There were some lovely spots along the river, the way we came into town,” Kalydra said.

“Yeah, I noticed them, too.  Quiet, shady, with the river running alongside.”  Hulfrick shifted his weight.  “It’s what he would want, you know.  He loved the outdoors.”

“Yeah.  And he always put the group ahead of his own wishes.”

“Never thought of just himself.”

“If we leave now—” Kalydra started to say.

“And if we hurried.”

“We could be back here in under an hour,” Kalydra bent down to grab Brawndorn’s legs.  “No need to bother Strongbold.”

“He might not understand.”  Hulfrick got his arms under the warrior’s shoulders.  “Umph,” he said.  “Let’s put him back down so I can put the Gauntlets on again.”  They lowered Brawndorn to the ground.

“His wife will wonder what happened,” Kalydra said, putting her hands on her hips.  “He promised he’d be home by winter.  And the kids.”

“Yeah.”  Hulfrick finished putting on the Gauntlets.  “Yeah.  Hell of a business we’re in,” he said.  He picked up the body.  “You know, in the Elf Kingdoms just anyone can get a healing spell, any time they need one.”

“Yeah, but do you know how much those guys pay in taxes?  No, thanks!” Kalydra said.  “They have no freedom!  Well, come on.  Let’s go.”

Author’s Biography

Tim McDaniel teaches English as a Second Language at Green River College, not far from Seattle.  His short stories, mostly comedic, have appeared in a number of SF/F magazines, including F&SF, Analog, and Asimov's. He lives with his wife and dog, and his collection of plastic dinosaurs is the envy of all who encounter it.  His author page at Amazon.com is https://www.amazon.com/author/tim-mcdaniel and many of his stories are available at Simily.co.