The Heavenly Host

“I’m deeply sorry that you feel that my well-meaning help was inappropriate, but it is my job,” Hilda said as her hands inside her wide-sleeved robes began the necessary semantic gestures to raise defensive wards about herself. As the beggar continued, she subvocalized the verbal parts of the warding ritual. Not strictly necessary, but it would strengthen the wards.

“The beggar meister has instructed us to bring you to Rathbert so you can undo your damage,” the main beggar told her.

Hilda shook her head. “I’m sorry; I’m under oath to do no harm,” she lied to them. All followers of Tiernon were allowed to do harm if it served the purpose of justice. Saints in particular were quite capable of doing vast amounts of damage, if necessary. However, she was pretending to be a healer, and most healers had strong vows against using their knowledge and power to harm others.

“The beggar meister thought that might be the case, so we’ve been instructed to teach you a lesson,” the principal beggar said menacingly.

Hilda sighed, rather theatrically, she felt. “And by lesson, do you mean grievous bodily harm?” she asked.

The main beggar smiled over Hilda’s shoulder to the woman behind her. “See, I told you she was smart.”

Hilda shook her head sadly. “And how do you propose to grievously harm someone who can easily heal themselves?”

Both men in front of her grinned evilly. “We’re betting you can’t heal without hands,” the second one said, brandishing a large dagger.

It was Hilda’s turn to grin and chuckle evilly. “I personally would not place a bet on that.” Her face turned very serious suddenly. “Since you have been honest with me about your intentions towards me, let me now be honest about my intentions towards you.”

The peg-legged beggar behind her snorted, and the raspy guy gurgled a laugh. The men in front of her smiled condescendingly. “Sure, you do that. It won’t matter much.” The first one chuckled.

Hilda shrugged. “Nonetheless, I feel I must give you this opportunity to flee, for I intend to make a very serious lesson of you five for the rest of the guild. Leave this alley now and you will avoid your fate.”

The beggars all chuckled.

“She thinks she can kill all five of us?” The woman laughed and the others quickly joined in.

Hilda let them cackle a moment as she locked her defensive wards into place. “Kill you? Oh my dears, I think you misunderstand!” She shook her head as if in disbelief. “Remember, I have a code against doing harm to others.”

“So then your lesson’s going to be pretty lame, isn’t it?” the second man in front of her said.

“Not at all, I’m just going to heal all of you, as I did for Rathbart.” Hilda said, and then her eyes and voice hardened. “After that you will go back to the beggar meister and tell him that if he doesn’t back off and leave me and mine alone, I will hunt down every single beggar in this city, heal them and then place a Geis upon all of the beggars in this city, to never willingly allow themselves to be harmed or maimed. I will then place a second Geis upon them that forces them to compulsively bathe and clean themselves daily, and a third Geis that will make them feel anxious and restless if they aren’t doing back-breaking manual labor every day while Fierd is up.” Hilda grinned. “Is that clear?”

The beggars had stopped laughing. “I think we may need to do more than hurt you,” the main beggar said.

Hilda shrugged. “You have been warned.”

The man in front of her whipped his crutch towards her legs, trying to knock them out from under her as he simultaneously lunged at her with his hook. Hilda adroitly leaped over the cane, easily seeing it coming in the dark and aided by her defensive wards, which redirected the crutches away from her. She grabbed the beggar’s forearm where the hook’s cup was strapped on. Hilda mouthed a quick prayer and healing mana surged into the man’s arm. The beggar leaped back as if struck by lightning, which in some ways he had been.

“Fraggin rat’s tails!” The man began screaming and cursing and shaking his hook. He dropped his crutch and began trying to get the hook’s cup off his forearm. “Midas’s nuts, it itches! It stings like a thousand scorpions!”

The gurgling, raspy man, formerly behind Hilda but now to her right, lunged towards her with a knife. Hilda batted the man’s knife arm away and palm-punched him in the chest, chanting loudly in Etonian at the same time, sending another shockwave of healing power into him. The man collapsed to his knees and began violently hacking his lungs out. All the pus, mucus and disease in his lungs were being violently expelled by his coughing and retching.