[Mareen’s POV]
Mareen still felt the wagon rocking beneath her when she opened her eyes. This does not look like the wagon I fell asleep in. Wait! Where am I?
She slowly turned to her left to see a large man in chain mail glaring down at the junior healer. “What do you mean? Even I can see he is getting worse. What have you been doing to him?”
“I am healing him! He just keeps getting worse! It is that madwoman’s fault! She …” The healer turned to her and screamed when their eyes met. The healer immediately scrambled back until he hit the wagon’s gate. Unable to slide further from her, he stared at her while frantically making the sign of the loom. “Keep away from me!”
She stared at the man confused. What is that horse’s rear on about now?
The soldier’s voice drew her attention away form the healer. “Can you help him?” The soldier gestured to the man lying on a cot opposite her in the wagon.
“I…” She saw the guard’s eyes were pleading. She swallowed, “I will try.”
She rolled onto her side and stretched across the wagon, to touch the injured man. As her hand touched his arm, she felt herself drawn into him. She was instantly assailed by injuries, screaming for attention, and felt herself pulled in dozens of directions. His body was fighting itself. Each part stealing from the rest trying to rush its own recovery. He was just running in circles, and faltering with every step.
Making sure not to over exert herself, she eased a bit of healing energy into him. His body reacted instantly. The chaos stopped, and the healing found its way to the worst of the injuries.
She pulled herself back out, and saw the man’s breathing had become more steady. Despite his body nearly pulling itself apart, the underling injuries were not very severe. How is he so healthy? He was near death back in the tent?
Mareen wondered at his incredible recovery, as she felt the weight of the healing she used pull her back to sleep.
…
[Guard’s POV]
He looked at the two figures sleeping in front of him. Neither had stirred after the woman had returned to sleep. The healer had also not moved, sitting in against the wagon’s gate holding his knees to his chest. The healer had not said another word after the woman returned to sleep. Instead he was rocking back and forth with his eyes distant.
He say the flaps at the rear of the wagon open as a group of men arrived to unload the wagon. Raising to a crouch, he moved between the two still forms. “We are here, quit whining and go to the healers tent.”
The healer did not look up from the floor and he felt is temper flare. His hand landed hard on the side of the healer’s head. He cursed internally at himself, I did not mean to hit him that hard.
The healer’s head slowly came up. The healer seemed to be half the man he first saw in the healer’s tent. The man’s eyes were bloodshot and watering.
“We are at Wall. Get out of the wagon and to the healer’s tent.” His words came out as a growl. Three days in a wagon with the man had quickly worn his patience.
The man nodded quickly, tears flowing from his eyes. The man all but threw himself out of the wagon and staggered into the bustling courtyard. The haler moved as if he was in a daze or half drunk wandering aimlessly this way and that.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
He can be the healers’ problem. I do not have time for him. Shaking his head he directed the men to help him get the injured man onto a stretcher.
[Mareen’s POV]
She awoke to the armored man gently shaking her shoulder. “Can you walk?”
She blinked and slowly shifted. Part of her did not believe she could, but she did to want to admit it. “I think I can.”
The man stared at her, his face expressionless. He does not believe me!
She slowly shook her head and grabbing the side of the wagon, forced herself up into a sitting position. She paused a moment to let the sense of vertigo pass, before trying to stand. She leveraged herself up using one of the hoops supporting the roof. Not quite able to stand she shuffled, crouching toward the rear of the wagon.
The men outside offered her their hands to help her down while the armored soldier jumped out. She looked around as the men lifted her from the wagon and on to the stones of Wall’s courtyard. The southern wall for which the fort was named loomed in front of her. Unlike the last time she was here the courtyard was packed with men rushing about. What is going on?
She turned to the soldier to ask him, but he was giving orders. “Have the cooks throw something together and bring it up. We need to get them into their rooms.” Turning to her he added “Come with me. Please.” He added the last as an afterthought, clearly used to giving orders rather than making requests.
She moved a bit stiffly, but stubbornly refused to ask for help. Why do I feel as if I slept on everything wrong?
The guard led them to the center of the yard and up a set of stairs. Feeling unsteady she kept her eyes on her feet, worried she would trip in her exhausted state.
“Are you certain you do not need assistance?” She looked up to see the guard looking at her worried.
“Yes.” She was about to lie about feeling better than she actually did, when she saw tapestries hanging from the walls. “Wait! Are we in the central keep?”
“Yes, my orders are to see you both safe and healthy when the prince arrives.” He gestured toward a spiral staircase leading up. “After you.”
She felt more questions forming, but looking at the soldier’s exhausted expression, I should probably ask them later.
The soldier fallowed close behind her clearly afraid she would collapse at any moment. However, they made it up the narrow staircase without incident and he eventually led the group to a pair of adjacent rooms. He pointed to the left room. “Place him in the bed in that room.” gesturing to the right door, “This is your room.”
A narrow window cast light onto a small table, beside which stood a fourposter bed nearly as large as the wagon she rode in on. Mareen stared at the room. “There must be a mistake, I am a healer, not a noble. This is too much.”
“It is your room,” he replied flatly. “If you do not like it you can take the matter up with the prince.”
She felt the blood drain from her face. THE PRINCE! What is happening?
A couple maids appeared carrying trays, and the soldier turned his attention to them. “Place one in each room.”
Turning back to her, he gestured for her to follow one of the maids, “Join me in the other room after you eat.”
She felt awkward as the maid bowed, to her before leaving. Taking the lid off the tray she saw it was overflowing with food. Despite her shock at the amount, she fell on it with a ravenous appetite that emptied it faster than was probably appropriate. I cannot believe I ate all of that.
Having devoured the meal and with no excuse to avoid him, she knocked on the half open door of the adjacent room. The soldier turned to look at her from the desk, as he stretched to open the door the rest of the way. “Why are you carrying that tray? Actually never mind, just hand it here.”
He stood and took the tray from her. “For future reference, you can leave it on the desk or in the hall if you do not want to be disturbed.” Turning to place the tray on his desk, he pointed at the man in the bed. “Please check on him.”
She approached the resting figure and took a seat in the chair next to the bed. He seems better. She reached out and felt herself slip away searching for injuries. He was still hurt, but he was rapidly healing. She was again surprised by the rate the healing had occurred. She directed a few bits of warmth to the worst of the remaining injuries, and brought herself back before she pushed herself too hard.
As she slowly came back to herself, she realized the man was awake. His brown eyes seemed to bore into her. His voice was raspy, but she could make out the words, “Which … are you/”
Mareen blinked in confusion. “Which who?”
“Goddess.” The man replied staring.
She nearly rolled her eyes, but laughing voice drew her attention away. “If you can flirt you are fine. How are you feeling?”
The man slowly turned his attention to the guard standing by the desk. Then blinking in confusion turned back to her. Merciful goddess! Is he serious? Did he really think...
She unconsciously reached out to touch his arm again, and began to search for the head injury. He clearly has something wrong with him.
…