Hunters of Sian - Book 2. The Užaren Canyon

Honouring the Dead

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Chapter Twenty-Five

Honouring the Dead

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'Can you stand, boy?' Jezire had a deep powerful voice. It made Nell think of deep caves and heavy snowfall.

'I don't think so. Some of its blood got in the wound,' Nell croaked.

'Get him up,' he ordered the young man beside him. It was only as the other human came close that Nell realised his initial impression had been incorrect. The apprentice's height, broad shoulders, and short messy hair had been slightly deceptive. The curved facial features and chestplate of the leathers told Nell that the apprentice was a young woman. Nell was heaved up, his weight tilting onto his good leg. He groaned.

'Steady there. We'll get it cleaned up. Hopefully we can stop the infection and you won't have to lose the leg.' Lose his leg? Nell nodded weakly. He probably should be more worried, but he just couldn't think more than one minute ahead at the moment. He looked up at the sky. Jezire followed his gaze.

'The sun is going down shortly. Can't be helped. We will barricade this camp as best we can. More will come out of sheer curiosity. It is important that we look strong.' Nell looked around bleakly at the carnage. He didn't feel strong. He wasn't sure he ever would again. He had never felt so small and useless since the day he felt his mother's hand getting cold and limp in his own.

'Take him inside,' Jezire said, waving them off. The woman nodded and took most of Nell's weight as she walked him back inside the cabin.

'Blimey, you're young. What year are you in?' Her voice was deep too.

'Second,' Nell rasped. He was in too much pain to care about the look of shock on her face. A chair was pulled close, and he was eased down into it. The table was close by. He slumped over it. His eyes burned suddenly with tears. The adrenaline leaving, he began to quake, body shivering and shaking.

'I think he's going into shock,' said a female voice.

'I'm not fucking surprised. Put some water in 'em and having him swig on this. I'll get Sallos.' Heavy footsteps retreated back out of the cabin. Nell was aware of someone shaking his shoulder. He wished they would stop. He wished the whole damn world would stop. His heartbeat was still thundering in his ears. He hurt everywhere.

'Come on lad, drink. You'll feel better.' The woman's grip was surprisingly firm. She continued to pester until Nell finally accepted the water skin. He ended up slopping a lot of water down his front, his arm was shaking so badly. The first drops of water on his parched throat actually made him cough and splutter. A heavy hand slapped him on the back a few times until he could breathe enough to try again. When the water skin was empty, it was taken from him, and another skin replaced it.

'Sip that. It'll put some hair back on your chest. My name's Blair. You're Nell, right?' Nell gave a small, muted nod and drank. The fiery punch of something that might have been rum, scorched down his throat and settled warm in his belly. He drank down another mouthful. He let the tears fall then, mixing with the blood, sweat and dust on his cheeks and leaving tinted blotches on the table.

'That kid out there looks young too. You know him?'

'Derek,' Nell rasped. A noise, something like a groan of regret or disappointment.

'Look... I need to get the medical supplies and help.'

'Saddle bags on Thorn. Extra supplies,' Nell managed. After that, his tongue felt too thick and heavy. He was done, completely done. He laid his forehead on the cool surface of the table and just let himself break.