Warsong (Chronicles of the Warlands, #6)(63)

“I-I-I d-d-don’t-” Joden said.

“Then I suspect that—”

“Stop that,” Amyu stepped forward, furious. “Stop cutting him off. Joden can talk, you just have to give him time to get the words out.”

Both Lara and Eln stared at her, and then glanced at one another. Master Eln bowed his head in her direction. “I am sorry. You are correct, of cour—”

“Apologize to Joden,” Amyu snapped.

“I offer my apologies, Joden of the Hawk.” Eln inclined his head again, this time talking directly to Joden.

Joden nodded back. “F-f-forgiven.” He gave the healer a small smile. “F-f-frustrating.”

“Infuriating as well, I imagine,” Eln said. “So. Let me try again. This started before you fell?”

“Y-y-yes. I-I-I wo-” Joden grimaced, but fought on. “Wo-wo-woke this way.”

Eln waited to make sure that Joden was finished speaking. “I am not sure about the cause. Especially with no head wound, and no sign of a brain storm.” Master Eln hesitated. “Sometimes, rarely, I have seen where there has been a blow to the heart—not a physical blow, mind, but one of…” Eln stopped. “You are a warrior of the Plains, Joden and I would offer no insult but where there has been such pain of the heart, speech has been affected.”

“What is the remedy?” Amyu asked, her heart almost bursting in her chest. “With all your skills, why aren’t you reaching for a jar or ointment or one of those awful teas?”

“The only remedy we know of is time,” Lara said sadly.

“And that is not a complete cure,” Eln warned. “The damage may be permanent.”

Joden’s shoulders sagged, and he nodded.

Lara’s face was the picture of grief, reflecting Amyu’s own pain at the news. She wasn’t sure how Joden could bear this.

But then Joden straightened, and took a deep breath. “At-at-at l-l-least c-c-can still t-t-t,” he hesitated. “S-s-peak.” He gifted them all with a smile.

Amyu’s heart broke a little more as her eyes teared up.

Master Eln cleared his throat. “As to those awful teas,” he said, reaching for another jar. “I have one here that will aid with the bruising, and help you sleep.”

“And you, young lady,” Lara turned on Amyu. “I see those bruises you are trying to hide beneath your armor. You took the same fall as Joden. Let’s see to you.”

Amyu swallowed hard. The reckoning had come. She knew her duty. She knelt at the feet of the Warprize, and pressed herself to the floor, her hands out in supplication. As required of a child of the Plains who had disobeyed her thea.

There was silence above her; all she could hear was her pounding heart and her harsh breath against the stone floor.

“Amyu, stand before me.” The Warprize commanded.

Amyu rose, afraid to look her in the eyes.

The Warprize’s voice shook, “I confess I was furious when I realized where you had gone, but I was angry because I feared for you. I was worried sick. The mountains hold their own dangers, as you have learned.”

Amyu nodded, still staring at the floor.

“I have told you before, and will tell you again, you are an adult in my eyes. I may not agree with your choices,” and now Amyu felt fingers under her chin. Lara lifted her head so that Amyu had no choice but to look her in the eye. Lara was smiling, and had tears in her eyes. “But I also know what it is to go after something you want more than life itself.”

Now they were both crying.

“So let’s see to you,” Lara stepped back, and gestured. “Get out of that armor so we can treat your injuries.”

“I can promise you,” Master Eln said drily. “It will involve those awful teas.”





Chapter Twenty-Two


It was only after she had been treated with bloodmoss, had creams and ointments rubbed on every bruise, and been handed a cup of vile tea that Amyu worked up her courage to ask. “How does Kalisa?”

Master Eln snorted as he handed a cup of the same tea to Joden. “The only thing wrong with her is old age and attitude, neither of which I have a tea for.” He glared at Amyu. “Drink.”

Amyu took an obedient sip, then shared a glance with Joden, who shared a grimace with her.

“I fear it comes down to just that,” the Warprize said softly, casting a look at the door behind her. “Her family told me they had never seen her so angry as she was before she collapsed. She’s not really been coherent since they got her here, and she’s not eating. I fear her time is near.” She narrowed her eyes at Amyu. “I haven’t pressed for more information. She gets upset and agitated when we do. Why were you asking her questions about airions?”

The door burst open, and Prest ducked into the room. He dropped his armful of chain armor, leathers, and weapons on the table. “Joden,” he said, then nodded to Amyu. “Rafe told me of your need. We are of a size.”

“P-p-prest,” Joden exclaimed. “Wh-wh-wh—”

Prest waited patiently.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Joden finally got the words out.

“Guarding a stubborn Warprize, who insists on coming to the Healers without proper escort,” Prest growled. “One that needs to return shortly to nurse the babes.”