22
The Truth Discovered
Lauryn had been groomed and dressed in a plain but exquisitely fine shift. Her hair had been brushed until it gleamed and then expertly braided into a single plait. She was clean and tidy but anxious. What now?
Juno put her fingers to her lips. I will see you soon. I must go to him now.
Adongo?
We’ll stay close. Try to remain calm. Consider these your rooms for now.
Juno left Lauryn nervously pacing. They were in unknown territory now and her own heart was beating faster as she contemplated what Orlac’s desire could be for this girl. She moved quickly through hallways, making her way towards his suite. She was given immediate entry into the salon where she waited to be announced. The servant returned to bid her follow. The Fourth of the Paladin took a deep breath and stepped inside.
Orlac had bathed too she saw. His golden hair was still very wet and he was towelling himself. He was not at all self-conscious about his nakedness and Juno marvelled at his incredibly perfect body. Again she was reminded of a sculpture but she could not imagine any artist had ever had such a beautiful model to work with. She had not realised she was staring and got a shock when she noticed him grinning at her. Even his bright, wide smile was completely disarming.
‘Enjoy what you see, Juno?’
‘Er…my lord, forgive me. I was far away in my thoughts and I did not mean to stare.’
‘Don’t apologise. I like you looking. It makes me believe all that iciness is contrived and that you really do desire me.’
Juno wished she could blush; that would help cover her true feelings towards him. Instead she steadied herself and ignored his delight in teasing her. ‘You summoned me, my lord.’
He sighed. Juno would give him no sport today. ‘Join me outside.’ He nodded towards his bed chamber. ‘She’s sleeping.’
Outside on Sylven’s favourite and huge balcony the servants had laid out a lavish spread. Tying a fresh towel about himself he sat down and began to graze on the food. Juno joined him at his request but as usual did not eat.
‘How is the girl?’ he asked.
‘Frightened.’
‘Is she comfortable?’
‘As much as I can make her. May I ask where is she from?’
‘Didn’t she tell you?’
She’s lying, Dorgryl cautioned.
Be quiet! Orlac responded, not taking his eyes from Juno.
‘My lord, she said nothing whilst I bathed or dressed her. She is young and it is perfectly understandable that she is terrified in this strange place.’
‘I see. Has she said anything?’
‘Yes. She asked me what you wanted of her?’
He laughed harshly. ‘Can she not guess?’
Juno kept her peace and tried not to glare. She must do nothing to give herself away or put Lauryn into any further danger than she was in already.
He shrugged. ‘Have you noticed anything about her, my all-seeing Juno?’
‘I have, my lord,’ she replied cautiously. ‘It seems she is the woman from my vision.’
‘Hah!’ He clapped his hands with glee. ‘I knew you’d pick it. She is everything you described and you were right, I desire her very much.’
‘Is that your plan for her then, my lord? She will be your…’ she searched for the right word and then found it, ‘companion?’
He nodded. A sly expression seemed to shroud his handsome face.
‘And Xantia?’
‘Is also my companion,’ he said, adding, ‘when I choose.’
Juno left that alone. She despised Xantia and knew the arrival of Lauryn would mean trouble. ‘May I ask her name, where she came from? It might help me to bring her out of herself for you.’
Orlac inhaled the fresh scents of citrus from the gardens below. Distant sounds of the city coming alive for another day could be heard. ‘Is Titus with her?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. Ask him. He knows who she is.’
Juno rose and bowed. She could push no further. He was closed to her now. ‘Will that be all, my lord?’
‘For now, yes. But I wish you to bring her to me tonight.’
The Fourth had not expected this and had to think quickly. ‘Might that be too soon, sir?’ She made it sound as though she was sharing a thought rather than asking a question or, more to the point, offering a rebuke.
He answered her query in the same casual way she had asked it. ‘I think not. I think it is time we turned her from a girl into a woman.’
The god heard Dorgryl’s rumbling laughter inside. Nicely done, he said.
Orlac felt his own heartbeat quicken at the thought of touching Lauryn. He ignored Juno’s pursed lips. ‘Don’t defy me, Juno. I will expect her brought to my chambers tonight.’
‘And Xantia?’ She felt annoyed with herself for returning to the same question.
‘Is of absolutely no concern to you, servant,’ said the owner of the name, appearing on the balcony. ‘Whom do we speak of, my love?’ she cooed, wrapping her arms about his neck and kissing his cheek.
Orlac deliberately loosed himself from her. ‘Of a young woman called Lauryn. She will be sleeping in my bed tonight, Xantia. Please move your things. I don’t like that you seem to have set yourself up in my chambers in my absence anyway. You have your own rooms.’
Xantia’s face darkened but not enough to betray herself. She turned brightly towards Juno. ‘Is this one of your picks from the city?’
Orlac reached for a warmed, sweet roll. ‘Pour me some of that, Xantia,’ he said. He was purposely treating her in the same brusque yet polite manner in which he treated all servants, but Xantia reacted as though he had just called her by some pet name.
‘Of course, my love,’ and hurried to do as bid.
He continued. ‘She is my choice. Juno had never met her before.’
Xantia poured. ‘From Cipres?’
‘No,’ he said abruptly. He did not even turn to the Fourth. ‘Thank you, Juno. Don’t forget my instructions.’
Juno bowed again and left quickly, hurrying now—just short of running—back to Lauryn’s rooms. Upstairs on the balcony Xantia was scowling behind Orlac. He continued his grazing on the food.
‘You met her on this trip?’ She tried desperately to make it sound casual.
‘Yes.’
‘So, she’s Tallinese?’
‘It would seem so.’ He waved a hand towards her, showing he was tired or worse, bored by her conversation. ‘Xantia, when you leave in the next minute or two, could you ask my aide to come by as soon as possible. I want to see if there’s any word from Goth.’
It was a dismissal. She had no choice but to depart. Xantia tried to kiss him, but he brushed her affections aside, finding the sweet cake more to his taste this morning. She was enraged when she left. Her first call was not into Arlyn’s rooms as instructed. Instead she hurriedly dressed, gave pinched orders to servants to move her belongings from his lordship’s chambers, and made enquiries as to where she would find this woman who had stolen her place in Orlac’s bed. It did not take long for the information to be delivered.
Adongo’s warning was abrupt. Beware of Xantia! She comes.
Xantia swept past the nomad whom Orlac had insisted on taking with him to Tallinor. She hated him as much as Juno. Both watched her with guarded expressions and knowing ones too. ‘Get out of my way, Titus,’ she commanded.
It was amusing that Xantia treated the palace staff as though she was royalty and her orders must be obeyed. None of the Cipreans knew which was worse right now: the threat of the stranger’s powers over them or the viciousness of the whore he had installed in the palace. Xantia wrenched open the door and froze as the small figure stood up from the chair on which she had been perched. In that instant she was dragged back years and all those old feelings of hatred returned to settle on her shoulders once again. Adongo sidled up silently from behind.
‘Alyssa?’ he heard Xantia whisper.
Lauryn heard it too and in that silent stretch of brief moments, she took in the blue disk of archalyt which glinted on the woman’s forehead and marked her as coming from the Academie at Caremboche. She had learned this from her father when he was regaling them with tales of the happy years with her mother. As the woman stood there glowering, Lauryn’s memory suddenly gave her what she needed. Her father had mentioned a vicious woman called Xantia who had hated her mother. So this was she. Lauryn was prepared now for danger. This was clearly no social visit.
‘I am Lauryn,’ she said, deliberately hardening her voice, pleased to hear that she could. ‘And you?’
She stepped further into the room. ‘Xantia. Orlac’s woman.’
Lauryn breathed out. ‘Then he won’t be needing me,’ she replied, moving towards the window to put as much space between herself and Xantia as possible.
‘I wish that were the case,’ the dark-haired woman said. ‘It seems he is a little besotted by you.’
‘I can’t imagine why,’ Lauryn said, stalling for time and wishing Adongo would rescue her as he stood quietly watching the exchange.
She is very dangerous. Do not make her angry, is all he said.
‘Where have you come from?’ Xantia asked, approaching, still staring intently. She looked like a predator, lining up her next meal.
Lauryn avoided that stare. ‘Tallinor.’
‘Extraordinary,’ Xantia breathed close by. ‘Face me!’ she commanded and Lauryn was angry with herself for turning and doing just that.
Now they were barely inches apart, Xantia standing far taller and scrutinising her from on high. Lauryn was not expecting it. It was as fast as a snake might strike. Xantia’s hand slapped across her face.
‘That’s for your mother, the bitch. You are Alyssa’s daughter, I presume, because you surely can’t be her twin.’
Lauryn was still trying to catch her breath. She had never been hit before. It was more than just shock; it was anger that claimed her now. So it was true. This was the same woman her father spoke of. The Colours swelled and as Xantia towered above her, a satisfied smirk on her face, Lauryn prepared to retaliate.
Don’t! Adongo shouted in her head. He had felt the thrum of her magic gathering.
Lauryn stopped herself, breathing hard now.
She is protected by archalyt. I have a better idea for dealing with Xantia.
The Link closed and Adongo disappeared. She wondered what his plan might be.
‘Answer me!’ Xantia screamed.
Lauryn pulled herself back to her feet. Her hair had come loose and her face ached where she had been struck. ‘I am the daughter of Alyssa and Torkyn Gynt.’
Xantia laughed. It was a manic laugh; one which told Lauryn that she stood before a woman whose emotions were suddenly out of control. With her lips pulled back and her eyes wide and wild, she looked deranged. She was.
‘I knew it! So they married and had a child. How very nice for them. How are your parents, child?’
‘I don’t know,’ she lied. ‘I have not seen either in a while.’ Lauryn played for time wondering when Adongo would return.
‘Your mother and I have a score to settle,’ Xantia all but spat.
‘So I can see.’ Lauryn was pleased she felt a level of control now. She would beat this woman.
‘Let’s say my mark on your face is a foretaste of what’s to come.’
‘Xantia.’ It was said mildly enough but both women turned towards the voice, one with relief, the other with fright. ‘Step away from her,’ Orlac said.
Xantia wanted to say something placating. But it was too late. The sentient ones felt his minuscule push on his powers and Xantia was savagely flung back against the wall. She hit it hard and crumpled with a groan on the floor.
Lauryn instantly shielded herself. ‘No need,’ Orlac said, moving towards her. ‘I am not here to hurt you. Let me see your face.’ He cupped her chin in one of his large, elegant hands and she could not help but feel a tingle of attraction once again for this man. He terrified her but his presence was so overwhelming he seemed to remove all resolve from her. She permitted him to hold her as he studied her cheek. ‘I am truly sorry.’ He meant it too and he stroked her face very gently. ‘Titus!’
‘My lord?’ Adongo bowed.
‘Fetch Juno. Have her see to Lauryn’s face and hair.’ He had not let go of her yet. She could feel the strength in his body which touched her now as he stood so close peering at her with those amazing violet eyes. He is my uncle, she told herself and tried to feel revulsion —but could not.
‘At once,’ Adongo said, not really wanting to leave her with Orlac.
‘And have Xantia removed from here and deposited in her quarters. She no longer has access to mine.’ Adongo smiled as he bowed. ‘And at no time, under no circumstances, is she allowed to go anywhere near Lauryn’s chambers. I hold you fully responsible.’
‘You have my word, sire,’ the Moruk said.
Orlac bent and kissed the spot on her cheek which hurt the most. The pain had settled to a dull throb now. Lauryn felt a Link slice open. She expected it would be Adongo but was chilled to hear Orlac’s voice in her head.
You were wise not to use your powers against her.
She felt she stood there naked now. He knew she was empowered and he was not even perturbed. She no longer had barriers against him. He could link and enter her mind at will, brushing aside her shield as though it were not even there. Now he bent and kissed her hand, but this time spoke aloud. ‘Until tonight.’
He left without another word nor did he glance back at the prone figure in the corner.
Alyssa was not just quiet, she was silent. Saxon had tried several times to link but she had shielded from him; asked him to give her time to think on something. He respected her privacy, knowing she would come to him when she was ready to talk about whatever was unsettling her. Tor, whose turn it was to drive the cart, did not notice her withdrawn state for several hours as he concentrated on steering the horses along the uneven track. He and Cloot maintained a constant Link, with their private chatter going back and forth—it kept Tor’s mind occupied. Goth of course said nothing and everyone ignored him, quietly revelling in his groans each time the cart hit a bump and jarred his arm.
They were still in the Forest but it was beginning to thin. Before they hit open country, Saxon decided to water the horses at the stream which had run to their right for a good part of the trip, and give everyone a rest. He unharnessed the animals and led them away. Alyssa moved to a secluded area beneath a tree. Goth was slumped in the cart. Tor suddenly found himself alone and went looking for his wife.
‘You’re very quiet,’ he commented, approaching her. ‘Is something wrong?’
Alyssa pulled her knees close and rested her chin on them. She did not know where to start or even how to. Without choosing her words, she allowed them to tumble out.
‘I dreamed last night.’
‘Oh?’ he said, sitting beside her. He wanted to hold her but sensed she did not want to be touched.
She wasted no words. ‘Lys came.’
‘I’m glad.’
‘I’m not,’ she said vehemently. Then added: Look at me, Tor.
He did not want to but forced his brilliantly blue gaze to meet her eyes. She looked into that lovely face and knew that whatever she said next would hurt him. But it had to be said.
‘I met your father last night as well.’
He was not expecting this but he was expecting something, she noted. ‘You…you met my father?’ A quizzical grin appeared.
‘Perhaps met is not the word. Let’s say I saw him. And your mother. They are both incredibly beautiful people. Almost too beautiful, too perfect…like you.’
Tor was confused. He had no idea what this was about, nor could he interpret the subtle accusatory tone in her voice. He played it safe. ‘I gather you are not talking about Jhon and Ailsa Gynt, then.’ He attempted his usual brand of humour but it did not work for him this time.
‘No,’ she replied. ‘I was not given their names but you really do look like your true father.’
Tor did not know what to say. He felt suddenly clumsy. ‘Anything else?’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Plenty.’ She cocked her head to one side. ‘Why don’t you tell me what you thought I was going to tell you about before I go on?’
He shrugged, saw her expression harden at his reluctance and knew he must not lie to her now. ‘I thought,’ he said, taking her hand— and was relieved she permitted it—‘that you were going to tell me about your mother.’
‘I am. So you’ve known about her?’
Tor felt more nervous at the icy tone in her voice now. He looked towards Saxon, who was busy, his back turned. Cloot was privy to this conversation but sensibly remained still in the trees and silent.
It was best if he told her everything. ‘When Orlac summoned me from the Heartwood and then cast me away, I found myself in the Bleak. I didn’t know it at first—it was all very confusing and of course I was completely unexpected. It was my arrival which distracted Lys and allowed Dorgryl to escape.’
She nodded. He had already mentioned Dorgryl’s escape during their time in the Heartwood whilst waiting for Rubyn. ‘Go on.’
‘I actually saw Lys—you see none of us had before that moment—and it was obvious to me that you and she were related somehow. Later, returned to the Heartwood, she admitted she is your mother. When she thought I might tell you, she forbade it.’
‘And you always obey Lys, don’t you?’ she said, a pitying tone in her voice now.
‘No,’ he said defensively. ‘That’s not why. I agreed that she should be the one to tell you. Last night was obviously her chosen time.’
Alyssa smirked and took her hand away from him. ‘Did she also tell you that it was she who brought you to Jhon and Ailsa?’
She could tell immediately that he had not known this and she felt a twinge of guilt at her bluntness. Nevertheless, she continued with her tale, particularly now that she had had time to think through everything she witnessed in her dream. Alyssa was sure she had pieced together an important part of the jigsaw.
‘Or that she deliberately contrived to marry my father and then stage her own death at childbirth to leave me motherless and my father a broken man, never to recover?’
He shook his head, hanging it and running his fingers through his hair. He could not defend Lys against this accusation for it was all true.
‘Tell me everything you saw,’ he said sadly.
And she did, sparing him no detail. When it was told, Alyssa softened. She had rid herself of her anger now, glad that she had shared all of it. It was her turn to offer comfort and she reached to put her arm around him. She was relieved that he responded, turning his head into her shoulder and hugging her close.
Cloot blinked. They were stumbling onto the truth now. He opened the Link to Saxon so he could hear. The Kloek looked up from the horses towards where they sat as he heard Alyssa’s voice.
‘My mother is a god,’ she said, her voice filled with the same disbelief she had felt in her dream. ‘And do you know, Tor?’
He looked up and kissed at the tears on her cheek. ‘What, my love?’
‘I think your true parents are gods too.’
Tor sat back. ‘What!’ His worst fears were being confirmed. Tor had suspected as much but never once allowed his mind to accept the notion. To hear Alyssa utter the words was the confirmation he did not want.
She nodded. ‘There’s more. It’s worse.’
‘Don’t,’ he said and groaned.
‘We must talk this through. We are meant to. That’s why she came.’
‘No.’
Yes, Cloot said into their minds.
She pulled Tor’s shoulders around so he was forced to look at her. ‘Listen to me. You once described the first vision Lys ever gave you in a dream.’ He began to shake his head but she continued. ‘You told me about the people in that dream. They were the King and Queen of the Host. Darganoth and Evagora you called them. They were the same people I saw last night. Evagora birthed you and Darganoth took you from her and immediately handed you to Lys, my mother. You know the rest.’
‘No!’ he yelled, leaping to his feet.
Let him go, Alyssa, Cloot said. He knows what you say is true.
Heavy of heart, she watched her love disappear into the trees, his Paladin flying after him. She too needed comfort and was glad to see that Saxon was coming towards her.
Cloot flew down to perch on Tor’s knee and watched his bonded one stare in a sullen silence at the Forest floor.
How long have you known? Tor finally asked.
Always.
I thought we were friends.
None closer.
Why then?
I was forbidden by Darganoth himself. We were all told you must discover your identity yourself. I’m not sure why…I’m still unsure. But I have held true to my promise, as you held true to Lys in not telling Alyssa what you knew.
I’m not blaming you, Cloot.
I know this. But I need you to understand why I have not shared this. Would it have made much difference?
What, to know that the mad god who seeks to kill me and everyone I love and destroy the land that I call home, is my brother? Yes, it might have. Tor shook his head. My brother. He turned the word over in his mouth as though it was a foreign sound.
Can I just say this? Cloot asked. When you finally lay eyes on him again, it would serve you well to remember that Orlac the man is a result of something terrible that happened to him as an innocent. As you feel now…cheated, devastated perhaps even vengeful—this is how the young Orlac felt when he discovered he was not mortal but a god. And yet all of his life he’s been made to live the life of a mortal. It was not his choice. He was stolen—just a baby remember. There are times I can feel sorrow for him.
Tor finally looked up at his Paladin. Alyssa is right. You are a wise old falcon.
The bird chuckled. Aha, so you admit it at last!
Tor wiped at his eyes, rubbed his face. I don’t know what to think any more.
Survival for you and yours, Cloot said firmly. He still wants to kill you and ruin Tallinor.
Do you think he knows?
I can’t guess at that. How would he know?
Dorgryl probably.
Perhaps. Here come Alyssa and Saxon.
Tor looked up. He could see by her red eyes that she too had been upset.
‘Are you all right?’ she said.
He nodded. ‘Let’s all sit.’
Saxon held up a sack. ‘Let’s eat as well.’
They shared a simple meal which included luscious blackberries Saxon had found. As they ate, they talked, sharing all the information they now possessed.
‘How do you feel about Lys?’ Tor asked Alyssa.
‘Not sure,’ she said, licking at her juice-stained fingers. ‘It’s a shock. I always wanted to know my mother. I should be deliriously happy but instead I feel tricked, angry, hurt.’
He nodded. ‘I know. The strange thing is, I recall that as a child I always used to draw our family as being four. My parents, that is the Gynts, were amused that I insisted on putting a big brother into the picture.’ Tor shook his head. ‘I must have known, somehow.’
Saxon tossed him a knuckle of bread. ‘Maybe you absorbed some of what was happening around you. Imagine how brave your mother had to be to give you up, having already lost one precious son to Tallinor. Who knows, that pain and knowledge may have seeped into your being somehow.’ The Kloek shrugged. ‘Perhaps I’m being stupid.’
Alyssa put her hand on his arm. ‘No, Sax. You’re not. My mother may be a god but Lam Qyn is very mortal I’m afraid, so I have his blood running in my veins too. Whereas Tor has only gods’ blood…none of us can know what that really means and perhaps he did pick up on his mother’s sorrow.’
It was time to lighten the mood, Cloot decided. They still had a lot to achieve and it would not do to have Tor in leaden spirits. Of course you all realise we are in the presence of royalty. Before us sits a prince of the Host…an heir of the gods.
Alyssa brightened. ‘Your majesty,’ she said, standing to curtsy, which won a laugh from Saxon and even a grin from Tor.
Tor stood. ‘Enough—’ but before he could finish he saw Saxon plummet forwards, an arrow sticking from his back. Alyssa screamed and then Tor heard the same horrifying sound of an arrow leaving its bow and then the dull thump as it buried itself into her body, throwing her viciously forwards. She too hit the ground and lay still. He was so shocked, he just stared at his fallen friends before screaming to Cloot.
On my way! the falcon said, lifting powerfully from the branches.
Tor shielded for all of them. No further arrows could strike any of them, though he presumed the attackers had already fled. He dropped to his knees by Alyssa. She was unconscious having hit her head on the tree as she fell. She was bleeding badly from that wound but he reassured himself with the knowledge that cuts to the head invariably looked worse than any other. He ignored the bleeding and felt for her pulse, which he found…strong and steady.
Checking Saxon, the Kloek groaned. ‘Gods’ bollocks, what hit me?’
‘An arrow,’ Tor replied. ‘Be still.’
‘Alyssa!’ Saxon had just noticed she lay next to him.
‘She’s alive, Sax. Let me just see how bad this is and then I’ll tend to her.’
Talk to me! he called to Cloot.
Three men. Two horses gone. And…
No wait, let me guess. Goth is gone too?
With great difficulty. But nevertheless he is with them.
Do you know who?
No idea.
Follow them but don’t be seen. Goth will warn them of you.
He told Saxon the bad news and was not surprised when the Kloek growled, ‘Get me up, Tor.’
‘Wait!’
‘He’s not getting away again.’
‘He won’t. Cloot’s following. We’ll track him.’
‘See to Alyssa,’ he begged.
‘I’m about to. You’ll have to keep watch,’ he cautioned.
The Kloek nodded, wincing as he sat up so he could see around him better.
Tor worked calmly. Now that he knew they were not immediately fatal wounds, he slipped into the role of physic, washing the area and surveying the damage. The arrow had buried itself in Alyssa’s shoulder. She would not die but it was important to get the metal head out of her body before infection could set in. Whilst she was still unconscious, he summoned the Colours and the Flames, which were now ever-ready at his call. They materialised from the Great Forest. He focused, roamed with the Colours and let go, his spirit entering Alyssa and immediately travelling to the site of her wound. With his physical self kneeling over her, hands hovering above the arrow head and his spirit working from behind it, Tor let his Colours work their magics, easing the arrow head from her shoulder. He could sense she was surfacing from her darkness now and he must work quickly. With an immense effort he dragged himself backwards and out from Alyssa, returning to his body, where he took deep breaths, racked with a horrible trembling he remembered from the previous times he had tried something similar. There was no time for his recovery though. He needed to finish working on her wound. Weaving the Colours he worked from outside of her now, cleaning the gash the arrow had left, but mercifully it was a neat wound and he could see it would heal. She groaned but was still not fully awake.
The Flames instinctively knew what to do and as soon as he sat back on his haunches, exhausted from the spiriting, they set to work cauterising the wound. Alyssa opened her eyes and immediately began to vomit. Tor had somehow made his legs work and he had fetched water, tearing strips from his shirt to clean and bind her wound.
He spoke on a private Link. You are safe. Hurt but safe. You need some healing time.
What happened? She sounded drowsy and disorientated.
We’re not sure. Bandits perhaps. You’ve been wounded by an arrow. And they’ve taken Goth.
She closed her eyes. How many lives does that wretched man have?
He’s enjoying his last, Tor assured her. I’m going after him.
Alone?
Saxon was hit too. I must tend to him.
Her eyes flew open at this news. I’ll help you. The truth was she was at this moment too weak to even lift her head from the Forest floor. She winced from the pain at her shoulder.
Be still, Alyssa. You may yet suffer the fevers from that wound and you need to just let it heal and save your strength.
The Flames had finished their task. They sang and Tor thanked them. It seemed only he understood their language.
Cloot’s following them. He will not get away, I promise.
If they’re common bandits, he probably promised them riches.
How bad is Saxon?
He’ll live but he’s going to be sore like you. We’re lucky that they were such terrible shots.
Small mercies, she said and closed her eyes again. She drifted asleep.
Tor wished yet again he had some of the arraq liquid to ease their pain. It would heal them quickly too. But his satchel had been stolen and with it the precious vial he had used with such care.
Much later, a fire lit, both patients woke up to find themselves laid out in the back of the cart which the bandits had decided not to take.
Tor helped them both to sit up. ‘Drink lots of this,’ he said, handing them each a clay jar. ‘All of it,’ he cautioned.
Alyssa tasted various herbs mingling with nettles and grasses. It was the right brew to help them through the fevers should they visit. Her head throbbed too.
‘What news?’ Saxon croaked. He began to shiver and realised he would spend the rest of this night sweating it out as his body fought off infection.
‘They’ve made camp north of here. Apparently, they’ve also broken cover of the Forest to try and throw off Cloot but he’s too wily for them.’
‘What are you planning, Tor?’ Alyssa asked.
‘To see you both through this night first,’ he answered. ‘Then I shall catch up with Cloot and our new friends.’