Protected: Chapter Two
Protected
Chapter Two: Fall
It had been almost a week since their postal stop. The men were heartened, Zahir was chatty, in a proud sort of way, and Kel’s dark mood was lifting. It was evening; they had marched late, eaten hastily, and were laying out the travel routes for the next few days.
"And this road doesn’t lead to any river-crossing, not in this season," Kel pointed out.
"True," agreed Sir Martin. "Our choice is, therefore, to travel along the bank until we reach the nearest bridge. Fording this river is unlikely, what with the depth and rockiness of its bed."
The young knights nodded their understanding.
"Is there a riverside road we can follow?" Zahir asked.
"We are to follow the course of the river, upstream, along several game and herding paths," Sir Martin decreed. "Don’t worry, they are all interconnected."
Kel nodded silently, and looked at Zahir, wondering if the split in the road they had passed that morning had occurred to him. She was certain she’d seen a woodsman’s marking there that the divergent road led to a bridged river. Sir Martin had led them well enough so far, and the weather didn’t promise a risk of flooding. If Sir Martin was in a rush to get home…
She followed her orders, and the course she was dictated, even if Hoshi was less than happy about the muddy little cattle trail. Not long before the midday stop on the following day, Kel caught sight her sulking and reprimanded herself quite sternly. Duty, orders, and respect for your elders. Just accept what’s been dealt you and make the best of it, she reminded herself as she took Hoshi to water.
Later on in the afternoon, Zahir seemed to be trying to shake off a bad feeling. She saw him stop his fine Bhazir mare and look up to the cloudy horizon -- or down to the rushing water bellow the boggy bank. More than once she lost sight of him and then spotted him dawdling behind the party, almost out of earshot, or just around a bend. His uneasiness hardly put her to rest; she did not know him well, but she remembered him to have a healthy intuition and strong woodsman’s skills.
It was on the second morning along the river that the ominous atmosphere bore actual fruit. As though by design, it was to Kel herself that misfortune fell hardest. They had made a short stop, and she was climbing down to the river for water. As she was making her way off the path, she slipped. A soldier standing nearby made a grab for her arm, to no avail.
Enough of Kel’s self-control was left to her to keep from shrieking as she tumbled down the slippery bank, over sharp stones and clumps of weeds or thorny bushes, bumping and bruising her way down to the river. When she finally came to a thudding stop she let slip a moaning "Ugh!" and bit her lip.
Better not try to move, yet, she thought immediately.
Gingerly, Kel moved an arm. She was sore. She moved her arm some more, then the other. Placing both thorn-pricked hands firmly in the muddy bank, she pushed down, trying to stand on her knees.
Dizziness overwhelmed her; slowly, she brought herself back down to rest in the squelching goo and took several deep breaths.
"Easy, now," she mumbled as she tried, more carefully this time, to get her head up.
Hands were slipped under her arms. Before she could protest, she was hoisted up forcefully, dragged some short distance, and then lowered onto a large, mossy boulder. Voices rang in her ears.
"Easy now, Lady Knight."
"How bad?"
"Where does it hurt?"
"Does she hear us?"
"Sir, we should take her to a healer--"
"Can you hear us?"
"Lady Keladry!"
Finally her dim stupor rose enough for her to answer. She shook fluttering hands like buzzing bees away, feebly. "I’m fine, yes, it wasn’t that bad of a fall." She heard what sounded like a sigh of relief to her left.
"Lady Keladry, are you merely bruised, or are there more serious injuries?" Sir Martin inquired insistently.
"No, nothing," answered Kel.
"Are you sure?" he added, frowning.
"Sir," Zahir was saying, "look at her arm."
Disturbed, Kel followed the young knight’s advice and looked down at both her arms. One was scratched to the elbow and had a few colorful bruises coated in mud stuck with bits of grass and leaves. The other looks worse. It must have taken the weight of her fall, to be so battered. Carefully, she felt along it with her fingertips.
"Not broken," she declared.
"Is it serviceable?" asked Sir Martin.
Of that, Kel wasn’t sure. Her forearm was bruised, but that wasn’t much of a problem. Worse was the swelled look of three of her fingers. My right arm, she thought grimly. My sword arm. Narrowing her eyes at the offending appendage, she stated firmly: "Serviceable."
She took no help, climbing back up to the trail, and none mounting Hoshi. She gathered her reins with both gloved hands, trying her hardest to pretend she wasn’t favoring the left. It was just a fall, she repeated to herself. A warrior’s strength is not measured by his injuries, but by his ability to work through them. As the company rode on, Keladry let the Yamani lesson sink deep in.
Previous || Next
Chapter Two: Fall
It had been almost a week since their postal stop. The men were heartened, Zahir was chatty, in a proud sort of way, and Kel’s dark mood was lifting. It was evening; they had marched late, eaten hastily, and were laying out the travel routes for the next few days.
"And this road doesn’t lead to any river-crossing, not in this season," Kel pointed out.
"True," agreed Sir Martin. "Our choice is, therefore, to travel along the bank until we reach the nearest bridge. Fording this river is unlikely, what with the depth and rockiness of its bed."
The young knights nodded their understanding.
"Is there a riverside road we can follow?" Zahir asked.
"We are to follow the course of the river, upstream, along several game and herding paths," Sir Martin decreed. "Don’t worry, they are all interconnected."
Kel nodded silently, and looked at Zahir, wondering if the split in the road they had passed that morning had occurred to him. She was certain she’d seen a woodsman’s marking there that the divergent road led to a bridged river. Sir Martin had led them well enough so far, and the weather didn’t promise a risk of flooding. If Sir Martin was in a rush to get home…
She followed her orders, and the course she was dictated, even if Hoshi was less than happy about the muddy little cattle trail. Not long before the midday stop on the following day, Kel caught sight her sulking and reprimanded herself quite sternly. Duty, orders, and respect for your elders. Just accept what’s been dealt you and make the best of it, she reminded herself as she took Hoshi to water.
Later on in the afternoon, Zahir seemed to be trying to shake off a bad feeling. She saw him stop his fine Bhazir mare and look up to the cloudy horizon -- or down to the rushing water bellow the boggy bank. More than once she lost sight of him and then spotted him dawdling behind the party, almost out of earshot, or just around a bend. His uneasiness hardly put her to rest; she did not know him well, but she remembered him to have a healthy intuition and strong woodsman’s skills.
It was on the second morning along the river that the ominous atmosphere bore actual fruit. As though by design, it was to Kel herself that misfortune fell hardest. They had made a short stop, and she was climbing down to the river for water. As she was making her way off the path, she slipped. A soldier standing nearby made a grab for her arm, to no avail.
Enough of Kel’s self-control was left to her to keep from shrieking as she tumbled down the slippery bank, over sharp stones and clumps of weeds or thorny bushes, bumping and bruising her way down to the river. When she finally came to a thudding stop she let slip a moaning "Ugh!" and bit her lip.
Better not try to move, yet, she thought immediately.
Gingerly, Kel moved an arm. She was sore. She moved her arm some more, then the other. Placing both thorn-pricked hands firmly in the muddy bank, she pushed down, trying to stand on her knees.
Dizziness overwhelmed her; slowly, she brought herself back down to rest in the squelching goo and took several deep breaths.
"Easy, now," she mumbled as she tried, more carefully this time, to get her head up.
Hands were slipped under her arms. Before she could protest, she was hoisted up forcefully, dragged some short distance, and then lowered onto a large, mossy boulder. Voices rang in her ears.
"Easy now, Lady Knight."
"How bad?"
"Where does it hurt?"
"Does she hear us?"
"Sir, we should take her to a healer--"
"Can you hear us?"
"Lady Keladry!"
Finally her dim stupor rose enough for her to answer. She shook fluttering hands like buzzing bees away, feebly. "I’m fine, yes, it wasn’t that bad of a fall." She heard what sounded like a sigh of relief to her left.
"Lady Keladry, are you merely bruised, or are there more serious injuries?" Sir Martin inquired insistently.
"No, nothing," answered Kel.
"Are you sure?" he added, frowning.
"Sir," Zahir was saying, "look at her arm."
Disturbed, Kel followed the young knight’s advice and looked down at both her arms. One was scratched to the elbow and had a few colorful bruises coated in mud stuck with bits of grass and leaves. The other looks worse. It must have taken the weight of her fall, to be so battered. Carefully, she felt along it with her fingertips.
"Not broken," she declared.
"Is it serviceable?" asked Sir Martin.
Of that, Kel wasn’t sure. Her forearm was bruised, but that wasn’t much of a problem. Worse was the swelled look of three of her fingers. My right arm, she thought grimly. My sword arm. Narrowing her eyes at the offending appendage, she stated firmly: "Serviceable."
She took no help, climbing back up to the trail, and none mounting Hoshi. She gathered her reins with both gloved hands, trying her hardest to pretend she wasn’t favoring the left. It was just a fall, she repeated to herself. A warrior’s strength is not measured by his injuries, but by his ability to work through them. As the company rode on, Keladry let the Yamani lesson sink deep in.
Previous || Next