The village of Helf was surrounded by walls, which Mac knew was normal, but the gates were solid, with no openings and Guards stood at the gates. Some of the guards were Hushai: others wore the uniform of the Crown.
"Give your horses to the boy, Master," one of the guards bowed as a young boy approached. Mac and Kurt dismounted. Kurt had been silent on the ride and Mac was nervous. They were handed plain dark robes, "the lass can change in the guards room while you change in the robing areas with the other men."
With a glance over her shoulder at the Master she went to change. "Take off the hand wrappings," Kurt told her, "You can't have those here." she nodded as she went.
Rejoining Master Kurt she took the baskets he handed her and waited. "Are you sure you want her in there?" the guard asked.
"She can handle herself," Kurt responded, "let's get on with it."
As they stepped through the gate Mackinley realized there was a roof across the entire village, with pillars as wide as she was tall stretching up to hold stones in place. Torches cast shadows but she could see Helf was built the same as any village except for the stone roof. She didn't ask but followed. She had never heard of a village quite like this one. There were tall chimneys on all of the buildings but the air was still heavy with the smell of smoke. She could see carts and sellers and hear the sound of a blacksmith's hammer.
Kurt led her toward a low, long building to the left of the gate. When they entered she gagged but forced herself to control her emotions and her stomach. There were beds along one wall and shelves on the other. The beds were all full of people who moved very little.
"This town is full of people who have leprosy." He told her. She shook her head and shrugged, not trusting her voice, "It is a disease that destroys flesh. Some lose body parts: fingers or toes; others lose flesh and have many open wounds. We don't know how it spreads, these people came from all walks of life: but they did not care for themselves. and as the disease spreads they lose the ability to."
She followed him to where he instructed her to put the baskets he'd had her carry in. "This room contains the people that are the worst. The disease is so far gone in them they cannot walk and most cannot talk, they cannot care for themselves." He began to put items away on the shelves. "Healers take turns coming in to help clean them but as you can tell this is not going to fix them." As if on que several Healers came into the room and greeted the Master, bowing before they went on with their work.
"Be cautious who and what you touch," he told her as she moved toward a bed, "Your cuts are not sealed, if it is something that passes through fluids you would be at risk." She stuck her hands behind her back.
"Do any ever heal fully?"
"None." Kurt stood behind her, "we can find no cure and no matter what we try magic cannot rid them of it."
They went out of the building, "This village was once no different than any other: a mayor, a blacksmith, a merchant guild. Now it houses those with the disease. Men, women, children: the disease cares very little who it claims."
"Could I get it?"
"These robes repel illness," he told her, "they protect you."
"But you said my wounds..."
"Your wounds are open. If not properly cared for the blood can contract many types of disease. The robe protects you now but once we leave this place you will be open to many sicknesses and disease because of your foolish treatment of your hands. Hushai think, act and protect, we train you to control brash behaviors and to accept things in a way that no one can tell your emotions. You were already adapt at that before you were chosen. It was one of the reasons you were chosen but you are very young we still need to teach you why."
They toured the village. Mackinley could see that the people tried to live normal lives. In the village square women did laundry in the fountain. Soap suds on the ground were play areas for children with bandaged arms and legs dragging dolls with them. Young boys pretended to be warriors nearby, whacking each other with wooden swords. She could smell bread baking and they passed a tailor in her shop stitching clothes.
She heard whispers of gossip about neighbors and tears over a friend who was lost to the illness. Mackinley kept her face blank as they walked. Down an alley a cat hissed at a rat and somewhere a dog barked. Music came from a tavern and there was even a man in the stocks.
She felt terrible sorrow for these people, her silence was respectful as they continued to walk through town. A few people nodded respectfully to the Master and watched her with pity, assuming she was to be left behind.
After several hours of watching Master Kurt assist with cleansing and healing, Mackinley was grateful to leave. The Master instructed her to go into the robbing room to bathe and put on her own clothes. When she was through, the Master did the same while she readied their horses.
Mackinley was more grateful for the air than she had been before. Helf was stifling. She felt bad for the people, for their suffering but mostly because of how they weren't allowed to go outside.
"Do people go visit the people of Helf ever?" she asked as they rode.
"No, why do you ask?"
"I was thinking they might like visitors, maybe a bard or a minstrel to perform. To have a feast with guests."
"It is too risky," Kurt told her, "but it's a lovely thought."
They rode in silence the rest of the way back to the compound.
"Tomorrow you may return to Daram." Master Kurt mounted his horse.
"Thank you Master," Mackinley bowed and set off at a trot toward room and the solitude it provided.