Empire of Ashes

Chapter XIII - Stitches

Closer and closer the hoofbeats thundered until they ceased altogether. Blood pooled from my wound, dripping onto my hands. I couldn't let it fall - that would be far too obvious. When a familiar head of golden hair appeared below, the adrenaline that had been coursing through my veins faded away. It was Temris and Fendur, and I wouldn't die today.

"That's Lyra's horse," Temris told his Iyrak, his voice laced with unusual concern. He turned to examine the dead rebel. "And that's Lyra's kill, so where the hell is she?"

"She might have run again. Can't say I'd blame her," Fendur muttered.

Temris said nothing, but he seemed to be looking for footprints in the earth around Amber.

Fendur shifted his weight forwards. "Blood on the saddle."

"Yes, I see it," Temris replied shortly. "She must be close."

I didn't feel like calling down to them. That would imply defeat and that I needed saving, neither of which were true. Instead, I waited until Nightmare was right beneath me, then wriggled off my perch, hanging by my hands for a heartbeat before letting myself drop. I landed on the stallion's back right behind Temris. My thigh didn't agree with the acrobatics, and Nightmare spooked, as well he should. Temris spooked as well, although he would never have admitted it. Spitting out a curse, he twisted to confront the 'attacker,' his sword half drawn by the time he identified me, covered in blood and grinning like a hellion.

"Right here," I said. I wrapped an arm around his waist, readying myself for the most uncomfortable ride of my life.

Temris's eyes flickered to my leg and back. He didn't insult me by acknowledging I had been injured, or telling me what I could and couldn't be doing with my thigh ripped open. He just kicked Nightmare on gently and headed back towards the town, saying over his shoulder, "I see you've been busy. Try not to get blood all over me, little one."

Fendur brought up the rear, leading Amber. He shot me worried glances every so often, and I did my best to ignore them. It was hard enough coping with the pain in my leg without having to deflect his concern.

"Stabbed and still managing to scare the shit out of the Ragnyr?" he teased. "You're one of the most entertaining people I know."

A quick scan of the two warriors showed me they weren't much worse for wear after their scuffle, with no visible signs of injury. Temris wasn't even wearing armour, the proud idiot. As Fendur had once said, he didn't think he needed it. I had seen no evidence thus far that he was wrong.

But when the blood loss started making me feel lightheaded, I was grateful for that. His back made for a softer pillow. We kept a steady pace all the way back to the town of pale houses, which was clearly now under the warlord's control. A line of prisoners knelt where the battle had taken place, stripped of weapons and guarded by several warriors. The few corpses were being cleaned up quickly and efficiently, and the remaining men swept through the town. They had even managed to establish a perimeter and a lookout to watch for reinforcements.

Temris rode straight into the main street and dismounted, keeping a hand on my uninjured thigh to make sure I didn't fall off the horse. He led Nightmare through the houses and stopped the first local he came across. It was a middle-aged woman, bent from years of hard work, with a toddler clutching at her skirts. She stared at Temris with fearful yet defiant eyes.

"Is there a healer here?" he asked shortly.

Her gaze flickered between the warlord and me. Then she wrapped a protective arm around her child and spat at his feet. "I willna help nae northern bastard."

Her southern accent was the strongest I had ever heard. She must have been originally from Saford or even Taiga. Like a proper Cambrian, the mother refused aid to someone who would kill her menfolk and take over her town. I felt a flash of pride, mixed with impatience for some strong painkiller and stitches.