Firebrand
Page 133
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“Easy,” Varius reminded him.
When he finished, he lay back, wanting more water even while his stomach churned.
“Better?” Grandmother asked.
Zachary sensed Fiori and the others hovering nearby. A woman with curly hair gazed over Grandmother’s shoulder. He cleared his throat. “A little.” His voice was still hoarse. “Where am I? What happened?”
“For the first,” Grandmother replied, “you are in the Lone Forest. As for the second, that is what we would like to know.”
“The knock to his head may impair his memory,” Varius said.
“I know, Varius,” she replied, giving the mender a testy look. “You may recall I have some experience in mending, myself.”
Varius blushed and bowed his head. “I am sorry.”
Grandmother ignored him and said to Zachary, “Perhaps, young man, we can start simply. What is your name?”
PLAYING THE PART
Fiori hovered behind Grandmother, and though Zachary’s vision remained somewhat blurred, he could see the anxiety in his eyes.
“Dav,” Zachary replied barely above a whisper. He had no idea if Grandmother could detect honesty the way Laren could, but he thought it best to keep an element of truth to what he told her. He closed his eyes, once again feeling the pull of sleep.
“Dav? Is that your first name, or your last?”
“Dav Hill,” he murmured as he sank into darkness.
“At least we’ve got a name,” he heard Grandmother say as if from far away.
“We’d best let him rest a while longer,” Varius said, “so he can answer more questions later.”
Zachary did not hear Grandmother’s reply. He heard instead “The Starry Crossing” as though it was being hummed to him by his nurse, at once soothing and disquieting. Some small part of his mind reflected the song must have been created because so many babes never made it beyond infancy, much less to adulthood, which led him to a vision of Estora humming the tune to their children in their cradles. They were lifeless.
He writhed in his blankets and groaned, the pain in his head agony. He was dimly aware of Varius putting a cup to his lips.
“Easy, Dav,” the mender said. “This draught will help the pain.”
Zachary gulped convulsively of the herbal concoction. He then relaxed, and headed once more toward slumber, the words of the lullaby once again coming to him. Come to sleep, my little one. Come to rest . . .
• • •
Zachary next awoke with the headache subdued. His vision was clearer, and the light in the chamber was different. A hint of daylight crept in from somewhere, though on the whole, the dark and shadows claimed the chamber.
Grandmother, he recalled, had said he was in the Lone Forest, which was not surprising because the last intelligence he’d received was that a group of Second Empire was spending the winter in the Lone Forest. He knew there were ruins there, a keep from the time of the First Age, at the very least, and this must be it. From the little he could see, Second Empire had done an admirable job of making it habitable.
It was quiet but for the pop of the fire. People must be out working on whatever chores were required, but he was under no illusion that he was not watched. He took time to assess his condition. Everything hurt, but nothing seemed broken or torn that he could detect. He touched his face and winced. Still swollen and tender. His stomach did not feel poorly, a major improvement. In fact, he was hungry.
Someone’s shadow drifted over him, and he looked up to find a woman staring down at him. He dimly remembered her from last night.
“You’re awake then, eh?” she asked.
Zachary nodded, rose to his elbows. He’d have to face whatever was to come sooner or later.
“Don’t move,” the woman said. “I will fetch Varius.”
As moving seemed exhausting at the moment, he decided to obey. He ended up dozing until Varius arrived and shook his shoulder.
“Min said you were awake a little bit ago. Do you want to try to sit up?”
“I think so.”
Varius helped him. His head pounded, then eased, and he did not feel an immediate need to vomit. Min brought him broth and a slice of toasted bread. He took his time eating. It did feel good to have something warm in his belly.
“You slept hard,” Varius told him. “There are many who sleep here in the great hall at night, then we have our meals here, and you lay as one dead. It was a healing sleep, I think.”
Zachary did feel noticeably better for it. Varius then helped him to a chamber where he relieved himself and splashed cold water on his face. Gray cave dust runneled off his face and hands into the basin. He gazed at his hands. His nails were jagged and dirt ingrained in the creases of his knuckles. They did not look like the hands of a king, and he was glad. Since there was no mirror, he could not see how the rest of him looked.
When he stepped back out into the great hall, Varius handed him a heavy cloak. “The man this belonged to doesn’t need it anymore, but as you’ve none, you should have it.”
Zachary flung the cloak around his shoulders and was glad to have its warmth. “Many thanks,” he said. Varius seemed like a good fellow, and it was hard to believe he was Second Empire.
“Grandmother will want to talk to you,” the mender said. “I don’t think I can hold her off any longer.”
“Some reason I should be worried?” Zachary asked. He had to pretend he did not know with whom he was dealing.
When he finished, he lay back, wanting more water even while his stomach churned.
“Better?” Grandmother asked.
Zachary sensed Fiori and the others hovering nearby. A woman with curly hair gazed over Grandmother’s shoulder. He cleared his throat. “A little.” His voice was still hoarse. “Where am I? What happened?”
“For the first,” Grandmother replied, “you are in the Lone Forest. As for the second, that is what we would like to know.”
“The knock to his head may impair his memory,” Varius said.
“I know, Varius,” she replied, giving the mender a testy look. “You may recall I have some experience in mending, myself.”
Varius blushed and bowed his head. “I am sorry.”
Grandmother ignored him and said to Zachary, “Perhaps, young man, we can start simply. What is your name?”
PLAYING THE PART
Fiori hovered behind Grandmother, and though Zachary’s vision remained somewhat blurred, he could see the anxiety in his eyes.
“Dav,” Zachary replied barely above a whisper. He had no idea if Grandmother could detect honesty the way Laren could, but he thought it best to keep an element of truth to what he told her. He closed his eyes, once again feeling the pull of sleep.
“Dav? Is that your first name, or your last?”
“Dav Hill,” he murmured as he sank into darkness.
“At least we’ve got a name,” he heard Grandmother say as if from far away.
“We’d best let him rest a while longer,” Varius said, “so he can answer more questions later.”
Zachary did not hear Grandmother’s reply. He heard instead “The Starry Crossing” as though it was being hummed to him by his nurse, at once soothing and disquieting. Some small part of his mind reflected the song must have been created because so many babes never made it beyond infancy, much less to adulthood, which led him to a vision of Estora humming the tune to their children in their cradles. They were lifeless.
He writhed in his blankets and groaned, the pain in his head agony. He was dimly aware of Varius putting a cup to his lips.
“Easy, Dav,” the mender said. “This draught will help the pain.”
Zachary gulped convulsively of the herbal concoction. He then relaxed, and headed once more toward slumber, the words of the lullaby once again coming to him. Come to sleep, my little one. Come to rest . . .
• • •
Zachary next awoke with the headache subdued. His vision was clearer, and the light in the chamber was different. A hint of daylight crept in from somewhere, though on the whole, the dark and shadows claimed the chamber.
Grandmother, he recalled, had said he was in the Lone Forest, which was not surprising because the last intelligence he’d received was that a group of Second Empire was spending the winter in the Lone Forest. He knew there were ruins there, a keep from the time of the First Age, at the very least, and this must be it. From the little he could see, Second Empire had done an admirable job of making it habitable.
It was quiet but for the pop of the fire. People must be out working on whatever chores were required, but he was under no illusion that he was not watched. He took time to assess his condition. Everything hurt, but nothing seemed broken or torn that he could detect. He touched his face and winced. Still swollen and tender. His stomach did not feel poorly, a major improvement. In fact, he was hungry.
Someone’s shadow drifted over him, and he looked up to find a woman staring down at him. He dimly remembered her from last night.
“You’re awake then, eh?” she asked.
Zachary nodded, rose to his elbows. He’d have to face whatever was to come sooner or later.
“Don’t move,” the woman said. “I will fetch Varius.”
As moving seemed exhausting at the moment, he decided to obey. He ended up dozing until Varius arrived and shook his shoulder.
“Min said you were awake a little bit ago. Do you want to try to sit up?”
“I think so.”
Varius helped him. His head pounded, then eased, and he did not feel an immediate need to vomit. Min brought him broth and a slice of toasted bread. He took his time eating. It did feel good to have something warm in his belly.
“You slept hard,” Varius told him. “There are many who sleep here in the great hall at night, then we have our meals here, and you lay as one dead. It was a healing sleep, I think.”
Zachary did feel noticeably better for it. Varius then helped him to a chamber where he relieved himself and splashed cold water on his face. Gray cave dust runneled off his face and hands into the basin. He gazed at his hands. His nails were jagged and dirt ingrained in the creases of his knuckles. They did not look like the hands of a king, and he was glad. Since there was no mirror, he could not see how the rest of him looked.
When he stepped back out into the great hall, Varius handed him a heavy cloak. “The man this belonged to doesn’t need it anymore, but as you’ve none, you should have it.”
Zachary flung the cloak around his shoulders and was glad to have its warmth. “Many thanks,” he said. Varius seemed like a good fellow, and it was hard to believe he was Second Empire.
“Grandmother will want to talk to you,” the mender said. “I don’t think I can hold her off any longer.”
“Some reason I should be worried?” Zachary asked. He had to pretend he did not know with whom he was dealing.
