Blue Gentian: A 'Spies of Kwedregiol' novel

Bren

Salya sat by the boy's bedside alone, watching for something. Anything.

His eyes fluttered. She thought she had only wished that flutter into being, but then his face contorted into a mass of lines and he moved his hand under the blanket.

"Vadie," Salya called.

Vadie was right there, her head peaking around the door jamb, ready to run for whatever Salya needed.

"Get Amma. Now."

Vadie's startled eyes disappeared, and the wagon door swung teetering.

Salya stood. His eyes were fully open now, and he groaned. He was looking at her, staring. She couldn't think of a thing to say. What did you say to a stranger who wasn't buying something at the booth? To a man you had rescued?

"Where am I?" he said. His voice was thick and unused.

"Uh, my wagon," said Salya. "I mean, my family's wagon. You're safe. I found you in the bushes by the stream and we brought you here."

He blinked three times, and then raised his hand to the cut on his forehead. His hand brushed the bandage only a bit, but still he winced.

"Don't move – you're pretty injured," she said.

He closed his eyes for a long time. Salya thought he might have gone to sleep again, but then he opened them.

"I'm Salya," she said. "Who are you?"

"Bren."

"Bren." Salya said. "Amma will be here soon. She just went to talk to someone. She's my grandmother and our healer." The silence fell again, and Salya wished Amma would come. She would know what to say. "I'm sorry. I'm not very good at this yet. I'm learning."

Bren's hand wandered to the bandages around his chest and then to the wooden boards that held his leg. "Is there water?" he said.

Salya handed him what was left of the tin cup. "I'm afraid that's all there is right now. I can have someone run for more once Amma gets here."

He took the cup and tipped it to his lips. "Thank you," he said.

She could see Amma and Vadie through the window now. They were hurrying across the field. Amma was holding her bun straight, and Vadie's hair streamed behind her shoulders.

Amma opened the door, pushed her sleeves to her elbows and stepped to his bedside.

"Amma, this is Bren," said Salya.

"Well, Bren. How are you feeling?" said Amma.

"Pretty terrible," he said. "How long...?"

"Well, I think you'll live," said Amma. "The cut on your head will heal with no more than a scar, but your leg was mangled and that cut on your chest is deep. The other wounds will heal in a few weeks if we're careful. It will be months before you can walk again, though. And even then one leg will likely be shorter than the other. It will never be useable like it was."

"How many months?" said Bren.

"Everyone is different. At least eight weeks and possibly six months until you can try crutches. "

His face went tight.

"I'm sorry. But I find that knowing the worst will help you be prepared to meet it."

"I have to get to Dregiol," he said. "I have to get there now. Where are my things? "

He sat up. Salya and Amma weren't quick enough to shove him back down, but they didn't need to. Bren let out a cry and clutched his leg. Salya could see blood seeping through the bandage on his chest again.