I woke up four days later, or that's what I was told when my eyes finally opened. I stared into darkness, uncertain of where I was and I wondered if it had all been a dream. I felt around, I was in a bed. Not the slavers' camp then. But it felt unfamiliar, not home either. I rolled over to reach for... I wasn't sure, maybe a candle, but a sudden pain spasmed down my back.
Wincing, I sat up and took a deep breath before reaching a hand behind my back. It was exposed to the cool air causing goosebumps to appear on my arms. My fingers felt along the raised welts across my back covered in something wet and sticky, a healing salve perhaps. I wiped my hand on the covers of the bed, noticing that they had been delicately wrapped with a thick band of fabric around the palms and wrists.
My eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark room, but I could still only make out the shapes of the furniture. The room looked small, the bed pushed against one wall. I untangled the covers from my legs and with a wince, swung them over the edge of the bed. I noticed that my ruined dress was gone, replaced by a pair of trousers and a tunic that was tied loosely in the back. I pushed the thought of someone undressing me while I was asleep out of my mind. That was the least of my worries.
"How is your back?"
A figure stepped from the darkness. I had mistaken it for a tall chest of drawers. The voice sounded vaguely familiar and I remembered it was the same one that had rescued me.
He stepped closer until I could make out just the outline of his face -a sharp jawline, a mop of messy dark hair, but nothing in particular stood out in the dark. I hadn't answered his question but the tilt of his head suggested an answer.
I lifted a shoulder in response and bit my lip to keep it from trembling. What was I meant to say? My back was in shreds. It wasn't fine.
"What's your name?" He asked. I could tell now from the way he spoke that he wasn't from Verdana. His syllables ran together and his vowels clipped too short. He was Rezantrian.
"Nori..." My mind raced. I couldn't hide my accent well enough. It would be obvious that I was Verdanan, and I didn't have time to think of an elaborate lie but I also couldn't speak the truth, lest they find out who I am. "Nori Hayward."
He nodded, satisfied with my answer. "Captain Rylan Fields, at your service." He gave a shallow bow.
Fields. Why did I know that name? I tried to remember but I couldn't place it. I had never met anyone by Fields that I could recall. Especially a Rezantrian.
"Where am I?"
Rylan leaned against a wooden support pole in the middle of the room. "An army camp outside of Kanver." My eyes widened. Kanver was not my ideal choice to have woken up in. With a rising population, It was easily one of the biggest cities in Rezantri and very, very far from Dast. "That surprises you?"
I tried to hide my panicked thoughts. "Just far from home is all."
He pushed off of the pole and strode towards me until he was only a few steps away. Even though he was almost close enough to touch, the shadows clung to his body like an old lover, keeping his face just out of reach. "And for what reason were you out in the woods with a nomad group?"
"Nomad group?" I scoffed, folding my hands in my lap but when I looked back up there was a burning heat in my chest. "They were slavers taking us to be sold like cattle!"
If Rylan was startled by my outburst, he did well to conceal it by raising a single eyebrow. "Us?"
Taylen! The others! I leapt to my feet, only to send the room spinning, and my knees, weak from pain and hunger, gave out beneath me. A pair of muscular arms circled me and gently sat me back on the edge of the bed. I gritted my teeth against my own helplessness.
"You should rest. We can continue when you wake."
"Wait." He had his back turned and the only sign that he heard me was a slight angle of his head. I fidgeted with my hands, wrapping a loose thread of the blanket around my fingers. "There were others with me. Other girls. Did you find them?"
He didn't respond right away and for a moment I thought I had mistaken his silhouette for a dresser again, he stood so still. But then he did answer, "We didn't see anyone else. I'm sorry." He left, melting back into the shadows of the room.
_____
It took ages to finally calm my nerves enough to ease myself into the comfort of the bed, but even then, my mind refused to settle down. It raced in circles and if I hadn't been laying down already, I might've fainted from dizziness. It jumped from Ayla, to my father, to Davin, to Taylen, to girls whose names muddled together in my mind, to Fields, Fields, Fields. Fields. Finally, it stirred a memory.
I knew the name not from someone I had met before but from eavesdropping on my father a few years ago. The name had been brought up in a conversation between my father and one of our guests at the time. I could still imagine the feel of the wood grain of his office door against my ear as I listened quietly in the hall.
"We need to send reinforcements to the border. I've received reports of an increase in patrol on the Rezantri side. They are growing bolder and I am afraid they might be readying for an attack." The man's voice was nasally as if he was purposely trying to breath through his nose and talk simultaneously. I remembered stifling a laugh at the time.
"And risk the peace that has been kept for decades?" My father's voice was more distinguished than the other man. More stern. And it was obvious that he was ranked higher than him. I couldn't recall ever having seen the man during his stay.
"Aren't they? It's just what I've heard." I imagined a thin shoulder shrugging in a uniform that was too big. There was a short silence. "Our sources reported a new captain that was appointed recently. Youngest in both of our histories."
The floorboards under me squeaked and heavy footsteps padded towards the door. I backed away until I could barely hear them on the other side. "Who?"
"Field's son." Someone let out a low whistle, I couldn't tell who. "If he's anything like his father..." I had tiptoed back to my room before I could hear the rest. Just as I had rounded the corner, I heard the door open and imagined my father's head poking out into the hallway.
I groaned in frustration. That didn't tell me anything I didn't already know. I already knew I was in the enemy's camp far from home. And my rescuer had a father, which wasn't a surprise. Very unhelpful.
I laid in bed, keeping completely still and staring at the darkness behind my eyelids until light finally started seeping through. I had almost forgotten about the pain in my back until I swung my legs over the bed once more.
Now that the sun was awake, I could make out my surroundings. I had never been inside of a military camp before, but I was not expecting the carefully crafted dwelling that I was in. The walls were made of stripped wooden logs, thick enough to keep the weather out. It was fully furnished, complete with a small wash basin that sat in a corner across the room. A crowded bookshelf next to it. A dresser took up another wall next to the bed and there was only one door.
Stretching my legs, I pushed myself off the bed slowly as the ground swayed beneath me. I set my shoulders and straightened up. The pain wasn't so bad as long as I focused on something else. I was still without shoes, but now a thick pair of wool socks had been dressed on my feet. I could tell there was light bandaging under them and the soles of my feet ached from the chase through the woods. Every part of my body was sore as I shuffled over to the wash basin. To my dismay, it was empty. Instead, I wiped the small mirror situated above it with my sleeve. I gasped at the girl that looked back at me.
There was a raised welt that started at the corner of my eye all the way down to my jaw and a bruise across one cheek that had faded to a pale yellow. Long red hair that was matted in places with dirt and blood. But what shocked me was the gaunt face and empty eyes that stared through the looking glass. I hadn't noticed any weight loss but it showed in my face. I wished that I could wipe the grime back on the mirror.
I tore my eyes away from my reflection and turned toward the door, absentmindedly trying to work the knots in the ends of my hair. The doorknob turned beneath my palm and I stepped through to the next room.
It was empty. Of people anyway. This room was larger than the bedroom. A table, longer than I was tall, took up the majority of the room. Across it was a mess of papers, some stacked in loose piles. There was an archway at the head of the table, but instead of a door similar to the one I had just come through, there was a curtain that had been pulled shut. Shoved in one corner was a carefully made cot with a blanket folded neatly on the end. Another bookshelf was wedged between a large standing clock and another small table. It held stacks of leather bound notebooks, some labeled with dates and other illegible words scrawled on the spine.
But what drew my attention was the large map that hung on one wall. It depicted Rezantri, along with the borders of its neighboring countries. I stepped closer. There was a pin stuck into the map that had markings of the camp that I was in. It was close to another mark, labeled Kanver. Lightly touching the pin, I dragged my finger across the fabric and ran my thumb along the length of the Atlua Forest that provided a natural border between Rezantri and Verdana. I gripped the edge of the map with my left hand, as I desperately searched for the small script that would label Dast. It ended before then. My eyes stared at the end of the map, willing the rest to fill in with my mind. Anything to see home again. I closed my eyes and leaned in until my forehead brushed against the map, feeling the sting behind my eyelids. Someone coughed behind me.
"I need to tend to your wounds."
I spun as quickly as my aching body would allow. This person was most definitely not Rylan Fields. Whereas he had stood with an air of confidence, this man seemed unsure of himself. His arms were overflowing with fresh wraps of cloth and jars. His face was weathered with lines and a pair of round wire glasses perched precariously on his long nose. His thin frame didn't match the typical definition of a soldier.
"You're a healer?"
He only nodded, red tinting his tanned face. He gestured to one of the chairs around the table. I crossed the room as he set his supplies on top of the scattered papers. I sat rigidly in the chair, my back to the healer. He's done this before, I tried to reassure myself. He knows what he's doing.
I felt his fingers softly brush the hem of the shirt, but to my surprise, he left the back of the tunic tied and walked around me, seating himself in the chair opposite. I noticed he walked with a limp, favoring one leg.
"The salve on your back is still fresh so we'll leave it for a couple days." He muttered as if he were talking to himself. He took one of my hands in his, carefully unraveling the bandage wrapped around it. "My name is Knox."
"Nori." I watched intently as he pulled the last of the wrap free, exposing my burned palm. It stung but it didn't look as bad as I thought it would.
"So, Nori, how does one acquire such nasty burns?"
"I suppose that's what happens when you push over a lit brazier." I lifted a shoulder, pushing the painful thought from my mind. I would walk through a blazing fire for the same outcome.
Knox dabbed some green ointment on my palm, instantly soothing the burn. "There was a rumor about a forest fire nearby." He hummed, giving me a knowing smile.
"How does one become a healer?" Healers were rare and in high demand in Verdana. Very few of them still practiced and the ones that did, selfishly refused to teach. I was surprised they had one here.
"I joined the army when I was young, but I'm not so fast anymore." He gestured towards one of his legs. "My father was a healer, but I left to get away from that. I suppose I didn't go far enough." Knox glanced up, a jaunty glint in his warm eyes. Knox finished wrapping the first hand and moved to untie the knot on the other one. "I do find some gratification doing this though."
"How bad is it?"
Knox let out a long sigh before responding, "Your hands aren't very severe, they should be fully healed in a few days. You are lucky they didn't blister." He pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose with the back of his hand. "Your back, however... Well, it'll scar, and not very nice either. They were starting to become infected, but we'll keep a close eye on it as it heals."
The makeshift door rustled behind us and a single pair of footsteps stopped short just past the threshold. "You're up?"
I recognized that voice. I turned my head but could only see Rylan Fields out of the corner of my eye. He was just as tall and imposing as last night. At least the shadows seem to have retreated.
"Knox. You may leave."
The only sign Knox gave that he heard Rylan was a small nod. He took great importance in tying the last knot on my hand and without hurry, gathered up his supplies. A roll of cloth dropped from his arms when he stood. I bent over to grab it, ignoring my back's protest. I handed it back to him with a small smile, rolling it back up where it had unraveled.
"Thank you, Nori." He returned the smile, and tucked the cloth in the crook of his elbow. I had almost forgotten about Rylan waiting at the doorway until I heard the impatient tapping of his boot.
I stood, slowly this time, I was not about to almost faint again. I turned just in time to see Knox brush past Rylan and duck outside. Rylan stood with his arms crossed and his weight shifted to one leg. A strand of brown hair had fallen over his forehead. His jaw was set in determination as he strode further into the room. He didn't look much older than me and I wondered at what age did he join the army.
"As you can imagine, I have many questions for you and I am sure you have questions for me. So answer mine and I'll answer yours." He passed by to the head of the table and stood with his hands splayed on the desk.
I shook my head. "I just want to go home. So if you just point me in the right direction-"
"You are in no condition for travel." My lips pursed. I would've argued with him but my body agreed with him.
"Where is home exactly?" Rylan asked with a tilt to his head, his piercing hazel eyes boring into me. I fiddled with my hands instead. "Fine, different question. What is the last thing you remember before waking up here?"
I drew a short breath. "Pain."
"Obviously." Rylan snorted. "Before that?"
My eyes flicked up towards his face, memories flashing through my mind too fast to process it all. Did he have no sympathy? "There's really nothing to tell."
"What did you do to deserve that pain?"
"Maybe they were bored." I swallowed past the dry lump in my throat. I didn't know why I was lying. It just seemed easier than telling the truth.
"It didn't have anything to do with that tent engulfed in flames? " Rylan pointed towards my bandaged hands. Knox must've told him about the burns. And it wasn't that hard to put two and two together. "We barely got it under control."
"That could have been part of it, perhaps."
Rylan's narrow eyes searched my face. I don't know what he found there, but he straightened then clapped his hands together. "How about a walk instead? Are you hungry?"