The camp surgeon told her that she had broken her collarbone.
“It’s nothing serious,” he said cheerfully. “A healer could set it right in a few days, but we don’t have one. Say, two weeks in a sling with plenty of dwar sleep, four or five weeks without it.”
Then he had given her a sleeping draft, which she had hardly needed. It seemed an age since she had last closed her eyes—twenty days, if one went by the calendar.
Toward dusk, she woke in her dimly lit quarters with Jorin curled up beside her. Rue had propped her upright with pillows to ease the pain in her shoulder. Sounds of celebration filtered through curtains drawn across the windows. She gathered that the rest of the Host had returned to camp during the day, following Harn Grip-hard who had ridden up on a donkey, the only mount he could find, as they had quitted the pass.
“I see that you’ve done it again,” he had said to her. She still wasn’t sure exactly what he had meant.
Her mouth was very dry, her lips chapped. “Water,” she croaked, hoping that Rue was nearby. Instead, a dark figure loomed up beside her holding a cup of water.
“Here. Drink,” said Harn. “I sent your servant off to enjoy the festivities. The Feast of Fools has been going on all day, Overcliff, Undercliff, and in the camp. You, however, got your foolery in early. What possessed you to take on the entire Karnid horde single-handed?”
Jame thought that she had had her reasons, but none of them sounded convincing now.
Harn drew up a chair and sat down beside her. Wood groaned under his weight while his knees peaked halfway up his chest.
“Never had a broken bone before, have you?” he said. “It’s disheartening. Everything will seem worse than it is until you get used to the idea, and by then the bone will have knit.”
Jame sipped the water, tasting the tang of pomegranate juice.
“How many casualties?” she asked.
“In the Betwixt? A dozen wounded, but none killed. The cadets had too strong a position, and their line held. On the other hand, the Karnids must have lost several hundred. We’ll never know for sure since they took their dead with them. Given the way the valley funnels there, most never got within striking distance.”
Jame regarded him. Everything will seem worse. . . . “You have something else to tell me, don’t you?”
Harn looked away, then back at her. “While you were gone, I got a message from Blackie. He wanted to know what had happened to Brier Iron-thorn. As far as I knew, nothing had, until I asked her. She said that her bond to the Highlord had broken, and re-formed with you.”
Jame sighed. She had known this was coming, but had hoped that, somehow, it would never arrive. “It was an accident,” she said. “Brier was very upset when the seeker’s baby died in her arms, and Tori was too far away to help her.”
“Whereas you were right there. Yes, I understand. Hopefully Blackie will too, when he hears the full story.”
A moment’s silence fell between them. Both were thinking that Torisen’s responses weren’t always rational, and that this one had sprung from the heart of his deepest insecurities.
Harn clapped his big hands on his knees with an air of someone facing up to the worst. “There’s more. He’s ordered you to return to Gothregor. Immediately.”
Jame stared at him. “But I still have sixty days, all of spring, left of my year at Kothifir!”
“The randon will understand a summons from your lord—I hope. You’ll take Iron-thorn, of course. And your ten-command as an escort, on extended duty. Cheer up,” he added, seeing her expression. “However mad your actions this morning, you aren’t exactly leaving under a cloud.”
Her eyes dropped to a little pile of paper scraps on the floor. She remembered waking earlier that day to find third-year cadet Char standing by her bed, glowering down at her.
“D’you still have that note I slipped under your door?” he had asked.
She had fished it out from under her pillow and mutely handed it to him. He had torn it up. Then he had left without another word. Just now, waking, she had thought that it had all been a dream. Apparently not.
Harn stood up, seeming to scrape the ceiling and fill the room. “For all Blackie’s histrionics, you needn’t leave until tomorrow. Go back to sleep.”
In the doorway, he passed Brier. The Southron stepped into the apartment, glanced after him, then raised an eyebrow at Jame.
“Tell the others to pack,” Jame said, leaning back against her pillows with a sigh. “We’re going home.”
Characters
Addy—Shade’s gilded swamp adder, to whom she is bound
Adric—Lord Ardeth
Ahack—in the Wastes, the west wind
Amantine, Princess—Kruin’s sister, Krothen’s aunt
Amberley—a Kendar, Brier’s former lover
Anooo—in the Wastes, the north wind
Apollynes—the mountain range parallel to the Rim
Arrin-ken—catlike third of the Three People
Ashe—a haunt singer
Awl—a Randir senior randon
Bane—Jame and Tori’s half-brother, who may be alive or dead
Bear—Sheth’s brain-damaged brother
Bel-tairi—a Whinno-hir
Blackie—the common name for Torisen
Brier Iron-thorn—a Kendar randon cadet, first bound to Torisen and then to Jame
Burnt Man, the—the one of the Four who represents fire
Burr—Torisen’s Kendar servant
Byrne—Gaudaric’s grandson
Caldane—Lord Caineron
Cella, Lady—cousin to King Krothen
Char—a third-year Knorth cadet
Corrudin—Caldane’s uncle and advisor
Corvine—a Knorth oath-breaker, bound to the Randir
Cron—a Knorth Kendar
Cully—one of Torisen’s first command
Damson—one of Jame’s ten-command
Dani—Shandanielle, Lady Professionate
Dar—one of Jame’s ten-command
Dari—Lord Ardeth’s would-be heir
Death’s-head—a rathorn
Dorin—grandson of the Kothifir high priest
Ean—Gaudaric’s son-in-law
Eaten One, the—the one of the Four who represents water
Erim—one of Jame’s ten-command
Evensong—Gaudaric’s daughter, Ean’s wife, Byrne’s mother
Falling Man, the—the one of the Four who represents air
Fang—a Waster girl who has ended up in Kothifir
Fash—a Caineron cadet
Four, the—the elementals of Rathillien
Frost—the Randir barracks commander
Ganth Gray Lord—father of Jame and Torisen
Gaudaric—Master Iron Gauntlet
Genjar—Caldane’s son, Commandant of the Host
Gerridon—Master of Knorth, arch-traitor of the Kencyrath
Gnasher—wolver king of the Deep Weald
Gorbel—Caldane’s lordan
Graykin—Jame’s servant, sometime Master Intelligencer
Greshan—Jame and Tori’s uncle, Ganth’s brother
Grimly, the wolver—a wolver of the Grimly Holt
Hangnail—a spy
Hull—Torisen’s chief forester