The Wonder (Queen of Hearts Saga #2)(34)
When two days had finally passed, Dinah begrudgingly decided that it was time to leave the confines of her warm, cozy tent, though she felt she could stay forever—eating, sleeping, and dreaming. Sir Gorrann roused her early and made sure that she ate a plate of eggs and strange amber fruit. As Dinah bit into the egg, a rush of yellow yolk ran down her chin. She stared at Sir Gorrann, who was devouring his eggs, still famished after the last bite.
“Did you lead me here?” she asked. The Spade wiped his face with a feathered napkin.
“Perhaps. Perhaps it is not yet time to ask.”
Dinah flung her plate across the room with a fury that surprised even herself. Her wound screamed in protest and she let out a tiny whimper. “Why? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? Why would you take us here?”
The Spade stood and brushed off his lap. “I’ll not answer that question for yeh now, not now and not while yeh are acting like a child. But I would say, ask yerself if yeh trust me. Ask if yeh would have survived without me. And when yeh are done, I will take yeh down to the river to bathe because I have never seen anyone look so disgusting, and your wound will need washing and redressing.”
He left the tent without another word. Dinah stewed for a few minutes in the bright white light of the tent. He had led her here. But why? To provide the Yurkei with the revenge they so desired? To ransom her off to the King, who would then kill her? No matter how many situations she came up with, not a single one of them made any sense. The Spade had saved her, protected her, taught her to fight. One did not give one’s enemy a sword and instruct the arm to wield it. The more she considered it, the less sense it made. But what choice did she have? She couldn’t change the fact that she was a well-rested hostage of the Yurkei tribe who had been stabbed by the Chief. Mundoo had stabbed her. Dinah remembered the venom in his voice, the anger that had bubbled up beneath his wise speeches.
She sat and considered for a few minutes. Sleep had made her a new person, one who had the capacity to think instead of just surviving hour to hour. She could bathe, but not alone if she wanted to wash her wound, which felt sticky and burning hot. Finally, with a cry of pain and a stream of curses that would make the Spade proud, Dinah righted herself and pulled a tunic over her head. She ducked out of the tent to find Ki-ershan waiting for her. He nodded his head toward a dirt path that ran behind her tent. “Thank you,” she whispered. He smiled back at her. Ki-ershan was definitely her favorite of the two guards. He followed behind as Dinah proceeded to walk slowly down the path until she arrived at a tiny freshwater stream that ran the length of the valley. Her wound still pulsed with pain, but it was nothing compared to the pain she remembered from the wooden knife. Sir Gorrann waited for her at a bend in the trail, and they walked together in silence toward the bank.
She stopped at the stream and stared into the water. It was small, barely ten feet across, but it gurgled and danced in the morning sun, its water so clear that it was almost like looking in a mirror. Dinah had thought she had no embarrassment left after being paraded through the valley in her bright red tunic and then forced to climb the ladder into the sky, but she had been wrong. In the shiny blue stream, there were hundreds of Yurkei bathing, playing, and washing clothing. The women all bathed naked, their perfect lean bodies glistening in the sun, their skin smooth like rich tea. Dinah saw Sir Gorrann glance away, a red flush rising in his cheeks. Dinah slowly undressed herself, trying to cover all that she could with her tunic before lowering herself quickly into the icy water with a wince as it converged on her wound. All eyes watched her as she came up, no doubt disgusted at this pale, bruised creature with black hair and the darkest eyes they had ever seen. The intense cold took her breath away and she immediately started shivering. A strange gray paste seeped from the wound. Sir Gorrann climbed in after her, struggling to cover himself as well, giving his own gasp at the cold water. He dunked his head and then emerged, shaking the water out of his gray hair. He then began to scrub her wound with fervor. The moment was anything but intimate, as they were both freezing and working as quickly as possible.
Sir Gorrann raised his voice to whisper in her ear. “Yer wound… it’s almost healed. Amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Indeed, he was correct—her wound was healing nicely after two days of rest, and whatever healing paste had been put on it had sealed it shut. Her shoulder had a constant ache, and when she raised her arms there was a thin slice of pain, but Mundoo had kept his word—the wound would not kill her. He had left her a scar, a remembrance of him. Dinah watched as the clean water around her became cloudy with the dirt and muck scrubbed from her skin. There was something in the gentle way the Spade touched her shoulder, something that made Dinah realize that even though he had led them into the mouth of the Yurkei, she deeply trusted him. He would never hurt her, she knew it instinctively; the same way she knew the stars would change each night. Sir Gorrann cursed the Chief as he scrubbed at the bloody wound.
“He believed yeh deserved this, no doubt, but it didn’t have to be so deep. He should have just left yeh alone. What with the coming battles…?”
“Why should it matter?” replied Dinah. “If anything, I’m going to be executed in a few days, just long enough to see Morte put to death. Mundoo no doubt wants me dead, he just wants to prolong the process. And why wouldn’t he? It’s no secret that the Yurkei are not fans of the royal family, nor should they be.” She raised her eyes to Yur-Jee, who watched them with barely concealed hatred from the banks of the stream. “Mundoo might lose his chance,” she muttered. “There are plenty of people here who would like to see my head on a stake, sooner rather than later.”