The Royal Healer sat on a small wooden stool dead center in the small, dark, stone chamber, surrounded by the remaining Royal council members. The relationship he had with these powerful holy men had always teetered on respect and hatred. They tolerated him because his methods cured them, but for him to teach and educate others about his healing methods was forbidden. Healer was allowed only with express concern and in the presence of one of them, to verify that his education was in line with their religious doctrine.
Healer had managed to be unscathed from the council's Iron Fist...almost. They had him now. Ever since the Civil War ended the Councilmen seemed on edge. Healer knew why he was here. He just hoped that it would have been a little later.
He also hoped they practiced their words of mercy and grace. He sat in a calm way. Both of his feet were flat on the floor. His hands palm down, resting on his upper thighs. His shoulders were relaxed.
Archbishop Joegoe Spoke.
"Healer, we have heard that Prince William's healing was quite possibly a miracle. Could you enlighten us on this."
"I only tended to his wounds as requested by Princess Beatrice." He answered.
"Nonetheless, how did they heal?" He inquired.
"Quite well. He was able to be moved to his private chambers." He replied.
"Wasn't he close to death?" He speculated.
"Yes."
"How?"
"The ingredients when mixed together can create miraculous results. It's what makes it powerful."
"Careful, healer. Your words are beginning to sound like witchcraft." He snapped.
"N-no! I-I know nothing of witchcraft. I only speak the truth on how it works." He bowed his head.
Archbishop Joegoe looked at the others. They waited on him to either condemn or bless the Healer. He had always been leery of the healer, but since he had helped so many, and was protected by the king and queen he couldn't thoroughly investigate him. Now would seem you still needed him alive.
He, along with a newly promoted missing noble were the only ones who communicated with the Princess. She had spent a full 24 hours in this room. Surely she used the Black Books power to heal Prince William. She must have bewitched the Healer because he didn't seem to understand the severity of this or maybe he did, he countered himself. Where was that book? He knew she had stolen it.
He just had to find her using it.
"The entire time Her Majesty was here she took care of Prince William. She helped change the dressing to his wounds, as well as administer him the medicine. She was very adamant that she had to do this herself." He furnished into the silent circle of pale faces and dark eyes looking back at him.
He didn't flinch. He knew he was being honest. His verdict was sealed...for now.
"Healer, we the council believe you. If you should speak with Her Majesty do not mention this." He suggested.
"I will keep this meeting private. You have my word." He watched as the Council circled him and exited out of the small cell.
Healer stood then, about to leave with them when one of the guards that stood watch beside the door grabbed him by the collar and pushed him inside. Healer panicked. He didn't know what was going on. He fell to the wet, cold, stone, floor then got up as quickly as his old bones would allow. He wasn't quick enough.
Suddenly, the heavy wooden door slammed shut to the small cell. Only a small five inch by nine inch square was cut out illuminating the small area. Healer pushed his face to the small opening.
"Hey! Hey, let me out!" He was frantic as he watched the robed men walk away.
One stopped. Archbishop Joegoe turned and walked back to the cell. His face looked gaunt in the flickering light. He reminded the Healer of a demon. He had never trusted the Archbishop.
"Healer, we have yet to give you our answer."
"Then why am I being treated like you already have it!"
" 'Tis for your own safety. You said it yourself, Her Majesty is responsible for the most unnatural healing of Prince William and though you say you saw nothing out of the ordinary, I believe she has bewitched you."
The Healers eyes widened in disbelief. The Archbishop thought Princess Beatrice was a witch. He knew better. There was something odd going on, but he did not believe Princess Beatrice had anything to do with it.
"She is innocent!" He professed, to which the archbishop smirked and replied.
"Sounds exactly like a man who's been bewitched. You will stay in this cell and I will see to your personal salvation." More a threat than anything.
"No..." Healer hissed.
He had heard of the Archbishop's "salvation". Very few survived and even fewer came away with their sanity intact.
"Get cozy, healer tonight it will be you and me, and you will tell me everything I want to know about the princess..."