by C. Greenwood
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The following morning, Brig returned and from the moment he strode into camp, things began to improve. He took over the larger share of the work in nursing Terrac and looked impressed with what I had done for him. He didn’t ask for details on how the priest boy came under my care and I didn’t offer them, knowing he wouldn’t approve of my having been placed in such a volatile situation, where it might easily had been me injured instead of the others.
Under Brig’s care, Terrac’s health steadily improved. Soon the day came when, with assistance, he could drag himself out of the dark hut and into the sunshine. Brig and I propped his back against the sun-warmed rock at the cave’s entrance and he would sit there, face tilted toward the sky, for hours at a time. I couldn’t tell if he was engaged in some sort of priestly meditation or just resting.
At first, he seemed uncomfortable when his fellow invalid, Dradac, began joining him. I couldn’t see what he had to be disturbed at. The giant would only sit quietly by his side, making feeble attempts at whittling one handed, while letting his bad shoulder soak up the sun’s rays. Javen assured the giant he would regain the use of his arm, but the healing process was going to be slow.
Over the next few weeks, Terrac came to accept Dradac’s company and the giant became one of the few exceptions to Terrac’s general rule of contempt for the outlaws. Brig, too, earned a measure of respect, probably for having cared for him during his convalescence, and even I was tolerated in a condescending but not terribly hostile way. However, it quickly became apparent no one else would be fortunate enough to penetrate Terrac’s favored circle.
CHAPTER SIX