by Jacinta Jade
‘Siray …’
Siray tossed her head again, groaning. Why wouldn’t her dreams let her rest?
‘Siray, wake up.’
The whisper came again, but this time, Siray realised it wasn’t a dream. Someone was inside her hut. She swung out with her arm in alarm at the presence she could feel close by her bed, and felt her forearm connect with something hard just above her head, causing the whisperer to cry out.
‘Ow!’
Siray bolted upright then, struggling to pull her mind together enough to plan her escape, but her hut was dark and she couldn’t see much of anything in order to establish the best plan.
A bright light flared suddenly before her.
‘Eek!’ Siray squealed and shrunk away from the light, instinctively trying to shield her eyes. As she twisted back to look at the source of the light, she almost yelled out again when someone grabbed her shoulder. But then she saw who it was.
‘Baindan! Great Mother jungle—you scared me!’
Siray put her hand on her chest as her heart continued to race within her.
‘What are you doing here?’
Baindan had been standing by the bed, but he now pivoted and placed the small lamp he had lit on the table.
Siray saw that it was the same lamp that had been lit when she’d first gone to sleep. She had been too tired when she finished her meal to cross the room and blow it out at the time, and the fact that Baindan had had to relight it meant that she had been asleep for at least a span or more—although the lamp hadn’t had that much burning oil in it to start with.
Baindan rotated back to her. ‘I thought you were going to come see me once you had finished talking to the commander.’ He pulled a chair out from next to Siray’s small table and, turning it to face the bed, moved around and sat down, stretching out his legs.
As he did, Siray heard his foot hit something, and, looking down, watched as Baindan picked up her staff from where she had let it drop. He stretched out an arm to place it against the side of the hut closest to her bed and then rubbed his jaw where a red mark had appeared.
Siray sighed, annoyed at herself. ‘I’m sorry, I completely forgot. After the meeting with the commander, Roalger took me down to the supply hut to check on the wagon schedules, and then I was so tired that—’
‘What?’ Baindan interrupted her. ‘Wagon schedules?’ He leaned forwards in the chair. ‘You wouldn’t need to check that unless … unless you were leaving. Soon.’ He regarded her steadily.
Siray nodded slowly. ‘I’m to take a wagon to the training camp early in the morning.’
Baindan frowned at Siray. ‘That’s quick work. How does the commander expect you to train like this?’ He nodded to Siray’s injury.
She shrugged. ‘The commander seemed convinced that there were aspects of training that I could undergo while I’m still recovering from my injury.’
Baindan’s frown deepened. ‘Well, she’s right—but even those parts will be demanding.’
Siray was trying to keep her face neutral, but Baindan’s concern pleased her in some ways. And yet … her shoulders tensed. ‘You don’t think I can get through it?’
Baindan’s frown lifted a little but not completely. ‘No, I believe you can, but it will be difficult considering you’ve just come through several days of hard travelling, not to mention the battles with the Faction along the way and the condition I found you in before that.’
Baindan’s head tilted, and Siray knew he was watching her contemplate his words. He wanted her to reconsider leaving. And she could go back to the commander and ask for a few more days to properly rest—Roalger would support her, she was sure.
But … who knew how long she might have before the Faction managed to track her down again. As long as she couldn’t Change, she was vulnerable, not to mention the liability she would be to others as well.
In her mind, Siray again saw the arrow sticking out from Baindan’s back, and his face going grey. She shivered slightly. There was no other choice. She had to learn how to Change.
She met Baindan’s eye. ‘I have to go, Baindan. I need to learn as much as I can, as fast as I can.’
Baindan’s head dipped a little as his eyes left hers for a moment before returning once more.
Siray could sense the argument he wanted to have over the matter.
But he didn’t push the issues and just said, ‘Alright.’ Baindan stopped speaking and paused for another long moment.
Siray felt that maybe he wanted to say something else, but, instead, she watched as he stood up abruptly.
‘I better let you get some rest, then. I imagine you’ll be up before dawn to get a wagon to the training camp.’ Baindan pushed the chair back into place at the table and turned to go, but stopped once more, turning his head to say, ‘Take care of yourself, Siray. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.’ He walked to the hut door.
Siray’s heart dropped at his tone as he spoke almost coldly to her, and because of it she almost let him walk out. But that was what she might have done once. Now, she couldn’t be a passive observer anymore but needed to be accountable to herself. With that in mind, she steeled herself, then called out to him.
‘Baindan!’
He froze with his hand on the door of the hut and swung around, surprise on his face.
Siray threw the bed’s blankets aside and, swinging her good foot to the floor, stood on it quickly. Ignoring her staff, she hopped across to Baindan, who extended his arms to clasp hers as she reached him and half fell towards him, a little off-balance in her rush.
Gazing into his eyes, Siray reached carefully up to touch the left side of his face, drawing her fingers slowly down over Baindan’s smooth skin and the red mark on his jaw.
‘I’m sorry I hit you,’ she murmured. Then, leaning carefully forwards, she pressed her lips softly against where she’d bruised him and, withdrawing just as carefully, whispered to him, ‘I hope we do see each other soon.’
Then she leaned back and looked into Baindan’s eyes, almost holding her breath as she waited.
Surprise still appeared to be his chief emotion, and, after a moment of stunned silence, Baindan squeezed her arms quickly, released her, and left the hut immediately, a chill gasp of air moving into the hut in his wake.
Siray blinked a couple of times, then sighed. She had hoped that might go a little differently. Disheartened, but knowing she hadn’t let the opportunity pass her by, she pivoted and hopped back across the room to her bed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
‘… SIRAY.’
A voice called to her, but Siray groaned and, grabbing the soft pillow packed with downy reeds from under her, pulled it over her head to block out the voice. Why couldn’t anyone let her just get some straight spans of sleep?
‘Trainee Siray?’ The voice seemed slightly uncertain and muffled. ‘I was ordered to come fetch you for your departure for the training camp.’
The nervous words slowly gained meaning within Siray’s sleep-deprived mind. Her departure … for the training camp. Of course! Blinking suddenly awake, Siray pulled the pillow off her head and propped herself up, stopping just short of leaping from the bed as she remembered her injury. She called out to the voice who was obviously waiting outside her door.
‘One moment!’
Sitting all the way up, Siray looked about her. Her hut was still dark, but she could discern the outline of her bed and the table. Not quite dawn. Flinging aside the covers of her bed, she lowered both feet carefully to the floor and grabbed her staff. Standing just as carefully, she straightened her patient smock with her free hand as she hobbled across to the door and pulled it open.
Outside was a young male with a familiar face.
‘You’re Allin, right?’
The youth nodded at her. ‘That’s right. Lieutenant Roalger asked if I could fetch you to the supply hut so you would be ready to go when it leaves at first light.’
Siray looked at the horizon.
Allin noted her glance. ‘I thought I should come early, so you could have time to prepare,’ he said, offering up to Siray the bundle that he was holding.
Reaching out with her free hand, Siray took it from him, noting its lightness. A quick glance showed that the bundle contained layers of clothes and boots tucked up inside.
Allin waved at the clothes. ‘I’ve sent one of the other runners to bring you fresh water to wash in and some food. Everything else you might need has already been packed for loading onto the wagon at the supply hut.’
As he finished speaking, another youth came jogging up to him, a bucket sloshing in one hand. He put the bucket down next to Allin and wheeled to go.
Allin stopped him. ‘Where’s the food?’
The other youth shrugged and mumbled something that Siray couldn’t hear.
Allin waved the excuses away. ‘Bah—useless! I’ll grab it on my way back.’
The other youth left with a scowl, and Allin spun back to face Siray. ‘I’ll grab you some food on my way back as I have to grab Mandolin so he can check your foot before you leave anyway.’ Allin whirled and began jogging away past the line of huts.
Siray smiled at his quickly retreating back and, shivering, shifted the bundle of clothes until she could get it under one arm. Then, leaning down, she picked up the pail of water and carefully hobbled through her hut door, continually nudging the door open with one shoulder until she was through. Once the door was closed, she edged her way to the table and set the bucket and her bundle of clothes down. Resting her staff against one side of the table, she turned back to the bundle and, untying it, examined the pieces contained within.
First was a pair of dark-blue pants. They were sturdy, with reinforced knees, but made of a cloth that could still breathe. Of similar material, was a grey sleeveless shirt and a heavier overshirt. The overshirt had long sleeves that contained splits so that the wearer could wear the sleeves down or rolled up. Also included in the bundle was a heavy blue jacket, socks, undershorts, a breast band, and even a band for her hair.
Lastly, Siray held up one of the boots. It was made of a charcoal-coloured animal leather, with laces lining both sides and the top of the boots, and top of them reached to just under her knee when she put them on the floor beside her foot. Funnily enough, Siray’s first thought was that the blue cloak Baindan had given her the previous night would go quite nicely with the rest of her new gear.
Shaking her head at herself, Siray stripped off her patient smock and placed it over the back of the closest chair. Looking at the bucket, Siray saw that there was a clean rag already floating in the water, and she gratefully plucked it up and, after wringing it out, began to bathe herself.
The warm water was soothing to her still tired and aching body, and the process of bathing itself managed to restore her a little due to its ordinariness.
After deciding she was as clean as she could get from a bucket wash, Siray dipped the rag into the water once more and, holding it over her head, let it rain water down onto her hair. She tried to run her fingers through the coppery, wet mass, but after her fingers encountered several knots, she gave up and twisted her hair up and away from her face with the band. She’d had her hair in a low knot ever since her escape from the Faction, and her trials since had really made a mess of it, enough so that a bucket of water wasn’t going to help fix it without a decent comb. When she got to the training camp, she’d find a brush and properly groom her hair, but until then, the unruly mass that now crowned her head was the best she could hope for.
And besides, what did it matter what she looked like anyway, she sternly told herself.
Finished with her task, Siray placed the bucket of dirty water to the side and began dressing in her new clothes, leaning against the table and chairs for support as she put on each item. The pants were the hardest part, and it took some time for her to guide her injured foot through the appropriate leg. Having achieved that, she then sat herself on the table so that she could take the weight off her uninjured leg to put it through the other pant leg. As she sat there in her undershorts, her pants halfway down her legs, she begged the Mother to let no one walk in on her in this condition.
Once both legs were safely secured in her pants, she stood again on her good leg and pulled them up the rest of the way, doing up the tie at the waist. After putting on her top layers, Siray decided to leave the heavy jacket off. It was cool now, but that would change later, she knew, and she lay the heavy jacket on the table next to her cloak from Baindan.
Grabbing up her staff, Siray hopped across to the one window that looked out the back of her hut and pulled open the shutters. Greyness filtered in, but the sound of approaching footsteps from the other direction made her turn her head.
Sure enough, Allin’s voice rang out a moment later. ‘Siray, the master healer is here to see you.’
Siray turned. ‘Come in.’
The door was pushed open, and Mandolin entered followed closely by Allin, who shut the door behind him.
‘Aaah.’ Mandolin smiled at Siray. ‘I’m glad to see you’re looking more refreshed, my dear.’
Siray smiled back at Mandolin. ‘Yet I still could have used more sleep.’
‘Couldn’t we all.’ Mandolin walked across the hut and pulled out two of Siray’s chairs. ‘This is why we must always embrace opportunities for sleep when we can.’
Mandolin sat down on one of the chairs and, while still watching Siray, waved a hand at Allin. ‘Now, young Allin, unless you plan on joining my healing students, I suggest you leave the food that you so kindly brought for Siray and be about your other duties.’
Allin nodded and deposited a small travel satchel on the table next to Siray’s heavy jacket, picked up the pail of dirty water, and, giving Siray a small, cheeky smile, left the hut.
Mandolin slapped his wrinkled hands against his thighs. ‘Now! Come take a seat and let us see how you’ve been treating yourself.’
Siray obediently hopped the short distance across the hut, Mandolin watching all the while, and lowered herself down onto the other chair, resting her staff against the edge of the table.
Mandolin hummed happily when he saw she had not yet put on her new footwear. ‘Good to see you waited and kept them off,’ he said, gesturing. ‘Feet are hard enough without having to make them go through the agony of putting on and taking off boots.
He gestured for Siray to raise her injured foot up to his lap, and she did so, leaning back in her chair and holding the sides of the wooden seat in order to keep her balance.
With her foot on his lap, Mandolin held on to her ankle lightly but firmly, ensuring there was no risk of her foot falling from his grasp. Carefully, he undid the bandages that wound around Siray’s foot and up her ankle.
The skin of Siray’s foot seemed to take pleasure in this process, and her foot felt lighter as the layers were removed. On the other hand, as the bandages came off, her foot, in an odd way, felt more exposed and vulnerable.
The bandages now off, Mandolin proceeded to remove the covering pads from the bites themselves, slowly easing them off to avoid ripping away any newly forming skin. He ran his hands gently over Siray’s foot, his cool skin almost making Siray’s foot twinge as he examined both the top and bottom bites.
Leaning forwards to look, Siray almost started in surprise as she spied a reddish residue on her foot.
Mandolin, however, seemed to be expecting her reaction and smiled, holding up a hand to placate her. ‘It’s alright. That’s just the residue from the jamroot tar.’
Reaching to his side, Mandolin fumbled for a moment before pulling out a small cleaning rag and a vial of what she assumed was water from a pocket. ‘I’ll clean this off so we can have a good look at how your foot is doing.’
Siray watched closely as Mandolin leaned forwards over her foot, holding it carefully with one hand and applying the cleaning rag gently with the other. She had tensed up and braced herself for any stinging, but she felt nothing but liquid coolnes
s against her skin. She was confused for a moment, until she realised Mandolin must have been using a numbing agent mixed with water to clean her foot.
The master healer really was an expert in his ministrations, and Siray began to relax as he continued cleaning the tar from her foot.
Once he had cleaned both the top and bottom bites, Mandolin conducted his examination, talking to himself as he went. ‘Swellings definitely gone down, and the infection seems to be clearing up nicely,’ he said, turning Siray’s foot slightly and raised it to get a better look at the wound on the bottom. ‘This one will take longer to heal, as it will take on most of the pressure when you begin walking again.’
He lowered Siray’s foot to his lap and met her eye. ‘When you begin walking without your staff, you better take it slowly, as both bites are in locations where the skin needs to stretch in order to enable movement of the foot as a whole.’
He eyed Siray’s foot speculatively before looking up at her again. ‘I also recommend that you don’t run anywhere for a time, as doing so would cause the healing skin to split, putting your full recovery back even further.’
Siray grimaced at the mental image and nodded to show she understood, watching as Mandolin lifted a hand to his pocket to draw out a carefully wrapped package of bandages and shorter strips of material. She also saw him pull out a small vial from another pocket, and, after pouring some of the liquid from the vial onto one of his strips of material, he swabbed her foot lightly with the liquid.
At first Siray felt only coolness as Mandolin brushed the agent gently over her injury, then, as she began to feel heat well up from her bites, she looked up at Mandolin anxiously.
He was beginning to bandage her foot again when he noticed her expression. ‘The steriliser’s working, then? Excellent.’
Siray blinked but continued to watch him wrap the new bandage around her injury, working the bandage expertly around the top and bottom of her foot and across the ankle.
‘The fact that you felt it work so fast means that your bites are healing well,’ he said. ‘The heat is all part of it working and burning away any remaining infection. It will cool off in a moment or so.’