Brunil, the new Chief Healer of the Hall of the Gentle Hand, had dreamed about Maegon throughout the whole awful night. She had dreamed about the peaceful expression on his fleshy face and the horrible stab wounds that had punctured his chest. She had dreamed about the blood on the ocean blue robes he was wearing. She had known it was just a dream all along and in that dream somebody had told her she did not have to be afraid.
She woke up at the time she usually woke up, shortly after the break of dawn. She had her duties to fulfill and she would fulfill them. Brunil was in her late sixties even though she had lied to Maegon that she was only fifty-five when she had first come to the Hall of the Gentle Hand. Brunil was a strong woman. She had been a widow for more than three decades, and she had made her way in a world that had never been kind to her.
She thought about their visitor, the lonely old man in the Hall of the Gentle Hand surrounded by the guards of Imloth Melui, all alone and frightened in a strange world he did not seem to understand.
She had felt pity for Romenstar since the first day she had met him, when the old man had sat at a table and told Brunil he could not eat meat.
Romenstar was like a child, she thought.
Brunil had never been blessed with children of her own, but she understood children and liked them too. She understood how confusing the world could be for children.
She went to one of the libraries and found Romenstar already there, sitting in a corner quietly like a mouse. His face was pale, his eyes were haunted and his hands were trembling. He was still wearing the same blue rags Maegon had been killed in; Romenstar refused to wear anything else but his sea blue rags. Somehow he had managed to get all the blood stains out of his robes, but the puncture slits from the knife that had killed Maegon were still there and clearly visible on his chest.
”It is almost time for breakfast”, Brunil said briskly. She had always thought that one had to confront death and illness briskly. It was no good for anyone to wallow in these things. People had to pull themselves together at some point, no matter how hard life was for them. Life was for the living.
”I want you to do something for me”, Romenstar said. That’s when Brunil saw that he was holding something in his hands. A book with blue covers.
”Have you slept at all, poor man?” she asked.
”No”, Romenstar said. ”There was no time. I had to finish this. My time is up now.”
Brunil did not like this kind of talk at all. She understood that times could be tough for everyone at times, but you had to stand up to them and not give up like that. A winner never gives up, and those who give up never win.
”This diary”, Romenstar continued. ”This is all they want. All of them. But you are a good woman, Brunil.”
”You are a good man too, Romenstar.”
”No, I am not”, Romenstar said softly. ”I know what I am and I know what I have been. I have come here for a purpose. In a little while I will open the doors to the public. To heal people again.”
”You will not do any such thing”, Brunil said sharply. ”You are in no shape for that. Just look at yourself. Your hands are trembling!”
”The diary, Brunil. In a short while they will be back…”
”Who? The one who killed Maegon?”
”Not him. But somebody will. They want this diary, but not to learn from it. They want to destroy it. I understand it now. It took me a while to understand… everything. Nobody cares about Rhûn, nobody cares about the suffering of my people. This is all they care about.” Romenstar slammed his hand on the table, but his soft hand barely made any sound at all.
”Romenstar, you…”
”Take the diary! Please, you must take it now. It must be delivered… to the right hands. I worked all night to finish it. Now I understand what they want me to say.” Romenstar’s eyes were wide, a little bit mad and very sorrowful.
Brunil looked at Romenstar and understood. Romenstar gave her the book and uttered a name and a name of a guesthouse. Brunil hid the book in the bottom of her satchel.
Brunil left the Hall of the Gentle Hand quietly through a back door and walked across the garden. The weather was beautiful again. The sun was shining warmly and a gentle breeze blew away the moistness in the air. There were no clouds in the the sky. Brunil was feeling almost light. A lot of things had happened, but a woman had to endure everything life threw at her.
Brunil thought it was perfectly alright to help out Romenstar this way. The poor man was so confused. Brunil entered the square and headed south, squeezing the satchel tightly in her hand. She had no idea what was in the blue book she was carrying, but it had been so important to Romenstar that it would be delivered to the right hands.
