Protected: Chapter Five
Protected
Chapter Five: Trial
She’d been shamed by Sir Martin’s calling her a liability. She’d been shamed by Zahir’s questioning her health. Finding out her pagehood enemy had been right all along was more than shame for Keladry of Mindelan - it was humiliation. She awoke in her tent with a healer squatting by her bedroll. Her head pounded, and she was shivering cold.
“More blankets,” she heard the healer say, “and something hot for her to drink.”
She started to moan, then bit her lip. The healer turned to her.
“You gave me a scare, Lady Knight,” she said, her voice deep and kind. “To lose the likes of you under my care, and from nothing more than a simple fever?” She shook her head.
Kel slowly tried to sit up and noticed something different about her arms.
“I treated some of the worst bruises and scrapes,” said the healer. “They wouldn’t have done much harm, other than stinging. But you left yourself too little resources, and your body’s reaction to being hurt wouldn’t go away. I can tell you’re a stubborn one; most soldiers are. But you just can’t fight your own body.”
Kel opened her mouth, and croaked. When the healer had given her some water she gave her reply. “Yamanis do it all the time.”
“What was that?” The healer was mixing some strong-smelling potions.
“I said, Yamani warriors do it all the time,” repeated Kel. “Control their body’s reactions with their mind, I mean.”
“I bet they pay for it, too,” the woman retorted.
“They don’t let their body keep them from doing their duty,” insisted Kel.
The healer shook her head and resumed her mixing, eventually bringing Kel a wooden cup to drink from. “I’ll not have you fainting with fever again, m’dear.”
“Yes, Grandmother Genda,” answered a sleepy Kel, turning over in the bedroll.
“I see you met my ma,” the healer said softly, adding another blanket to the knight’s already piled coverings.
When Kel awoke, it was evening, and the healer was gone from her tent. She felt alert, and hungry. Getting up, she popped her head out of the flap and looked around. The camp was lively with soldiers and a few villagers, packing food, water and other lacking supplies onto the few horses they had marched from Corus with. Fires were burning, and she smelled cooking meals everywhere.
“Lady Knight!” It was Sir Martin, who called her to join Zahir and himself at their fire.
Silent, Kel ate. The two men did not speak, either, until all three of them had finished.
“The healer assured me that, once you regained consciousness, your condition would not be severe,” began Sir Martin. “However, she was quite adamant about the amount of rest you required to return to your full ability and health. We cannot dawdle here that long. I received communications that we are to make for Grayside with all due speed.”
“What does that mean?” asked Kel, her voice Yamani-calm.
Sir Martin did not hesitate. “You either remain in this village, and ride after us in two days’ time, or come with us…”
“Sir?” she probed.
“In a litter.”
A cold silence persisted.
“Sir?” repeated the lady knight.
“I give you a choice in this matter,” said Sir Martin. “Appreciate it. You have until dawn to decide. Give the matter all due consideration,” Sir Martin advised gravely.
She did just so, sitting on her cot staring in the dark. If you believe that healer, a fever is no different from getting hurt in a scuffle with bullies, or injured in battle, she told herself. Healers are smart people, usually, she added. Not just anyone can become one. She must know what she’s talking about. Is it that bad to rest, every once in a while?
As she reasoned with herself, she heard a soft tapping on the flap of her tent. “Come in!” she called.
It was a bit of a shock seeing Zahir step in, but Keladry masked it well.
“I’d like to discuss this bad blood between us,” said Zahir.
“What about it?” she asked.
“You…” he started hesitantly, “have treated me with enmity for some time. I think I can understand why. But you, too, must understand some things about me.“
“Such as?” inquired Kel.
He leveled his eyes at hers. “Some people never change,” he said clearly, “but I am not one of those people.”
“Meaning,” Kel elaborated, “that I should not hold your behavior as a page against you?”
Zahir shook his head. “Meaning Page Zahir should no more plague you than Page Vinson or Page Joren,” he corrected.
Kel thought for a while. “I don’t know who you are,” she said honestly. “How do I know I won’t feel enmity for you when I do?”
“I only ask that you don’t assume it, Mindelan,” Zahir answered with a sigh.
After some more thought, she decided, “That I can do.”
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Chapter Five: Trial
She’d been shamed by Sir Martin’s calling her a liability. She’d been shamed by Zahir’s questioning her health. Finding out her pagehood enemy had been right all along was more than shame for Keladry of Mindelan - it was humiliation. She awoke in her tent with a healer squatting by her bedroll. Her head pounded, and she was shivering cold.
“More blankets,” she heard the healer say, “and something hot for her to drink.”
She started to moan, then bit her lip. The healer turned to her.
“You gave me a scare, Lady Knight,” she said, her voice deep and kind. “To lose the likes of you under my care, and from nothing more than a simple fever?” She shook her head.
Kel slowly tried to sit up and noticed something different about her arms.
“I treated some of the worst bruises and scrapes,” said the healer. “They wouldn’t have done much harm, other than stinging. But you left yourself too little resources, and your body’s reaction to being hurt wouldn’t go away. I can tell you’re a stubborn one; most soldiers are. But you just can’t fight your own body.”
Kel opened her mouth, and croaked. When the healer had given her some water she gave her reply. “Yamanis do it all the time.”
“What was that?” The healer was mixing some strong-smelling potions.
“I said, Yamani warriors do it all the time,” repeated Kel. “Control their body’s reactions with their mind, I mean.”
“I bet they pay for it, too,” the woman retorted.
“They don’t let their body keep them from doing their duty,” insisted Kel.
The healer shook her head and resumed her mixing, eventually bringing Kel a wooden cup to drink from. “I’ll not have you fainting with fever again, m’dear.”
“Yes, Grandmother Genda,” answered a sleepy Kel, turning over in the bedroll.
“I see you met my ma,” the healer said softly, adding another blanket to the knight’s already piled coverings.
When Kel awoke, it was evening, and the healer was gone from her tent. She felt alert, and hungry. Getting up, she popped her head out of the flap and looked around. The camp was lively with soldiers and a few villagers, packing food, water and other lacking supplies onto the few horses they had marched from Corus with. Fires were burning, and she smelled cooking meals everywhere.
“Lady Knight!” It was Sir Martin, who called her to join Zahir and himself at their fire.
Silent, Kel ate. The two men did not speak, either, until all three of them had finished.
“The healer assured me that, once you regained consciousness, your condition would not be severe,” began Sir Martin. “However, she was quite adamant about the amount of rest you required to return to your full ability and health. We cannot dawdle here that long. I received communications that we are to make for Grayside with all due speed.”
“What does that mean?” asked Kel, her voice Yamani-calm.
Sir Martin did not hesitate. “You either remain in this village, and ride after us in two days’ time, or come with us…”
“Sir?” she probed.
“In a litter.”
A cold silence persisted.
“Sir?” repeated the lady knight.
“I give you a choice in this matter,” said Sir Martin. “Appreciate it. You have until dawn to decide. Give the matter all due consideration,” Sir Martin advised gravely.
She did just so, sitting on her cot staring in the dark. If you believe that healer, a fever is no different from getting hurt in a scuffle with bullies, or injured in battle, she told herself. Healers are smart people, usually, she added. Not just anyone can become one. She must know what she’s talking about. Is it that bad to rest, every once in a while?
As she reasoned with herself, she heard a soft tapping on the flap of her tent. “Come in!” she called.
It was a bit of a shock seeing Zahir step in, but Keladry masked it well.
“I’d like to discuss this bad blood between us,” said Zahir.
“What about it?” she asked.
“You…” he started hesitantly, “have treated me with enmity for some time. I think I can understand why. But you, too, must understand some things about me.“
“Such as?” inquired Kel.
He leveled his eyes at hers. “Some people never change,” he said clearly, “but I am not one of those people.”
“Meaning,” Kel elaborated, “that I should not hold your behavior as a page against you?”
Zahir shook his head. “Meaning Page Zahir should no more plague you than Page Vinson or Page Joren,” he corrected.
Kel thought for a while. “I don’t know who you are,” she said honestly. “How do I know I won’t feel enmity for you when I do?”
“I only ask that you don’t assume it, Mindelan,” Zahir answered with a sigh.
After some more thought, she decided, “That I can do.”
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