Shadow Weaver (Back on Wattpad 2020!)

Chapter 34

I sit on my haunches, shoulders shaking, which doesn't help the pain in my ribs.

"Mirra." Jakut's eyes are open. Seeing the Prince has regained his faculties, Duke Roarhil comes to us, crouches down level with his nephew.

"You were lucky, Your Royal Highness. This time," he adds, looking at me. "Lucky and brave. Two qualities befitting a future King."

"How many men did we lose?" Jakut asks. He flinches as his fingers prod an egg-sized bruise on his forehead.

"One for sure. The future of Mirra's landsman is as yet uncertain."

"Tug?" Jakut asks. The alarm in his voice surprises me. And yet it doesn't. Our journey this far, the mistrust and necessity to trust, the disagreements and tentative deals, have bound us all in some inexplicable way.

"It is Brin," I say.

"We have sent for healers," the Duke continues. "You should rest until we are sure nothing is broken."

"Make sure no expense on the healers is spared," Jakut answers. "But I have no need for one. I am fine to ride." He hauls himself up to prove the point. "It will be safer if the unit moves on." He glances at me. I lower my head in silent reply. The velaraptors have gone, their riders with them. Except for those who fell in battle and the one killed by his own chief for raising a knife to slit Jakut's throat.

"If the bird-men are regathering for a second assault," the Duke says, "whether we move now, or rest for an hour, won't change anything. They could cover the distance to the Red City and back ten times before we arrive at the palace."

"Your arm is bleeding," I tell the Prince.

He glances down at the slit in his tunic. He hadn't noticed the wound before.

"I will ask the cook to make a salve," the Duke says.

"We need boiled cloth," I add, "and boiled water to clean it first." The Duke nods and strides back to Commander Fror who is inspecting one of the dead bird-men. Fror sends out an order, and a soldier trots away towards where the rest of the unit is now gathered.

I try to help Jakut remove his tunic, but lifting my arm hurts. He notices me wince.

"You're injured?"

"Give me your knife," I say. He passes it without question. I cut the sleeve where the blood has stuck his skin to the cloth. The wound is long and shallow.

"Someone must look at your injury, Mirra."

"It is internal," I say. "I think a rib is cracked. Nothing can be done." I rip some cloth from my underskirt and use the strip to staunch Jakut's blood.

"Except rest."

"Which is why I hid it from the Duke."

"I can do it," he says, holding the cloth in place so I do not have to strain myself. He stares at me for a long moment. "I release you."

"Release me?"

"You should not ride. You will stay somewhere with Brin to recover. I will pay Tug and Brin what I owe them, and once you are fit and well enough, you will vanish from my cursed entourage."

He wants to let me go? After all he has been through to get me this far? We are less than a half-day's ride from the Red City! I can think of nothing to say which will not make me sound as bewildered as I feel.

He takes my silence for hesitation. "If it is Tug you're worried about..."

"Tug?"

"I will make him an offer to accompany me to the palace that he cannot refuse. My payment will release you from us both."