I swung my legs out, placed my feet on the floor, and pushed off. I stood triumphantly. Half a second later, my legs buckled. I hadn’t expected them to be so numb and weak. To catch myself from falling, I threw myself backward onto the bed. The jolt through my aching body didn’t help my mood, but it did continue to clear my head.
I didn’t bother trying to stand a second time. It was obvious I wasn’t ready. I crawled like a baby across the floor toward the brass container. Supporting myself with both hands against the wall while kneeling, the relief was glorious.
By the time I was done, my thighs, hips, and lower back were useless. I fell to my butt and leaned against the wall.
“Gods, Tyrus. What a Molak-be-damned mess you are,” I muttered.
Once my body recovered, I crawled back to bed and grabbed the damp covers off the floor to warm me.
Downstairs, I heard a door open and, I heard Damaris say, “No. He’s not ready for visitors. And that’s final. If you wish to test me on this, then by all means push your way inside. Just don’t be surprised when you find a knife in your back because of it.”
A male’s voice stuttered low, but I couldn’t make out the words.
Damaris said, “Oh, that was not a threat. Just a promise. I already told Xola when she was here yesterday that she will need to wait until he is stronger.”
The voice answered.
Damaris tsked. “No. Those are not his words. They’re mine.”
“But you’re not his wife,” said the voice I finally recognized as Barasa’s. It was the first words I understood as he spoke them louder in frustration.
Damaris paused. “No. I’m not.”
“Then you have no right, in fact, no authority, to keep us from speaking with him.”
“I’m not his wife, but I have the blessing of his children to do what I think is best for him. The only thing that will change my mind is if you get their permission.”
“I tried twice today alone.”
“And?”
“And they said to talk to you.”
“I guess that settles it then. Good night.”
“Wait. I—”
The door slammed.
Damaris began to whistle as she moved about the kitchen afterward. I listened, strangely enjoying the sound as it continued up the stairs. My eyes met hers as she entered the doorway with a tray in hand.
She smiled wide. “Good. You’re up.”
“What was that about?”
“What?” she asked upon entering and setting the tray on my lap. The familiar broth and bread from earlier was there again, though the portions were larger.
I seized on them and said, “Your discussion with Councilor Barasa.”
“You heard that?”
“Mainly your side. What did he want to talk to me about?”
“Nothing that can’t wait.”
“It sounded important.”
She shrugged.
“Damaris, I appreciate all that you’ve done and are continuing to do, but I need to be able to make my own decisions in my life.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And how have those decisions been working for you?”
I lowered my spoon.
“Don’t look at me like that. You know it’s the truth.”
I tore off a piece of bread. “So that’s it? I’m getting some strength back so your kind words are gone.”
“No, they’re still there. But they aren’t the only words you need to hear. And I won’t be afraid to say what needs to be said, especially since you can’t run away.”
She tried to say the last statement as a joke, but it didn’t quite come across that way.
“For now,” I said, making my own attempt at humor. “I did just make it across the room.”
She looked to the chamber pot. “By yourself! There’s a bedpan on the floor! You could have fallen or passed out or—”
“But I didn’t,” I said, failing to mention the difficulties I had experienced. “Could you help me go for a walk after I eat? I guess I should also get some trousers on too at least.”
“If you’re up for it,” she said with a grin.
I smiled back before asking, “So, if you’re not going to tell me what Barasa wanted, how about you tell me the last time you talked to the kids?”
“It’s been over a day. I had Ira carry them a message for me, but I haven’t heard from either.”
I leaned back in frustration. If I hadn’t just collapsed after walking a few steps across the room, I’d already be halfway down the street in search of them.
“Can you send them another message?”
“You’re not in any condition to be left alone.” I started to open my mouth, but she cut me off. “Next time someone stops by, I’ll send it with them. What do you want to pass along to them?”
“That I love them. And I miss them. And I’m sorry. And I’d really like to see them.”
“I’ll make sure they get the message.”
“Do we have a new mayor?” I asked, trying not to go crazy with worry over my kids.
“We do.”
“Is it Reuma?” She had been my first choice to succeed me.
“No. The council said a new mayor must be a native born citizen.”
My mouth twisted. “I bet Reuma didn’t take that well.”
“Just the opposite. She never wanted the role, so she was happy to see Udo elected. She’s done everything possible to make the transition easier for him.”
I blinked. “Udo is mayor?”
“Yes. He seems to be doing well so far. You’d be proud of him.”
I smiled when thinking about how far the timid man had come in such a short time. “Gods-be-damned. Good for him. Ayodele must be beside herself at having a son-in-law as mayor. What else?”
“That’s probably enough news for now. I’d like you to focus on recovering instead.”
“I’m almost done with this food, and all I’ve done is rest. Not much else I can do but listen to you.”
“There is one thing we can talk about.” She gave me an accusing stare. “You can start talking about what caused you to end up here.”
My mouth twisted. “I don’t see how that will help me get my strength back.”
“Your recovery is not just related to your physical health.”
I let out a long sigh. “I don’t know what more to say. From what you already told me, everyone has it pretty much figured out. I got carried away with the potion Dar gave me and ran out, didn’t know the effects that alcohol would have in combination with it, and then suffered the consequences of my actions. End of story.”
“That explains why you’re in bed, but it doesn’t explain what led you to choosing those options. That’s what you need to talk about.”
“I talked plenty enough about those things with Ira. Did a little bit of talking to Myra and Zadok too. None of that worked.”
“You never really tried talking to me about those things though. And knowing you, I bet you held back with everyone else, even with Ira.”
I gritted my teeth. “Can’t you and everyone else understand that these things are mine to bear and just drop it?”
“No. Because they are not just yours to bear. They are ours to bear. You let me help you and I’ll let you help me.”
I looked up at her, frowning. Help her? What was her angle?
She grinned, but there was no joy behind it. “Surprised? We all have secrets. Our own demons. I’m no different.”
What demons could she be speaking of? I opened my mouth to ask, but she raised a hand. “No. You first. Then me.”
“Look, Damaris, I—”
She cut me off. “Do you love me, Tyrus?”
“What?”
“It’s a simple question. And one you already answered on
ce so it shouldn’t be difficult to answer again. Do you love me?”
“Yes,” I said, finding it strange I could not lie to her about those feelings when I had lied about so much else.
“Then if we’re going to be with each other for the rest of our days, you need to start acting like you love me.”
That took me aback. The rest of our days? The last thing I wanted for her was to be held back by me. “Damaris, I love you, but—”
“Stop. There will be no more buts. I’ve had enough of your excuses. I know your experiences from the war and your sorrow and guilt over Lasha make you think that it won’t ever work out between us or that you’re somehow doing me a favor by pushing me away. Well, you’re not. I kept hoping that one day you’d get past your excuses, but I’ve realized that if we’re ever going to get to that point, then I need to take control of our relationship. I’m done waiting. The right time for us to work through this is now. I love you, and you love me. That’s all we need.”
“Gods,” I whispered.
“Now, start talking.”
My smile faded. “Damaris, I—”
“I said start talking.”
“You don’t understand what you’re asking of me!” I snapped.
“I’m not asking you a gods-be-damned thing, Tyrus. I’m telling you to start talking. And you can scowl at me all you want. It won’t do you any good. You might be the most stubborn man I’ve ever met, but you’re not going to win this one.”
My scowl deepened, angry at her for dismissing the pain of something she didn’t understand, and ordering me about. Angrier still at how she acted like it was so simple to start explaining my life. I began to set my resolve to shut her out. I’d show her stubborn. For several minutes, we held each other’s gaze. The only sound that came from either of us was our breaths.
My resolve began to falter because I saw that the only way for her to understand her mistake in wanting to be with me would be for me to share all the awful things I kept hidden. I had to show her how broken I was.
I didn’t want to hurt her, but some people only learned the hard way. I knew that because I had often been that very person.
“Where do you want me to begin?” I asked.
“Wherever you would like,” she said, trying to mask the smile trying to form.
She thought she had won. She didn’t understand what her victory would bring.
“I’d like to not start at all, but I need a jumping off point.”
Her voice softened. “How about your last night in Denu Creek before you and Ava left for the war? The last time you were with Lasha.”
My gut knotted. “Why there?”
“Because I want to know about it.”
Memories of that night flooded back to me as I leaned back and closed my eyes. “All right,” I said, resigning myself to the hell I was about to undergo. I breathed in slowly through my nose. “Lasha, the kids, and I sat around our kitchen table. We were all quiet. Even Zadok at only two years old. We all pushed the food around our plates without any appetite. We all knew what would happen the next morning. I tried to lighten the mood with a joke, but it didn’t work. Lasha saved us all when she began to hum Zadok’s favorite song. By the end of the first chorus, we had all jumped in. We finally began eating, singing various songs between bites. After dinner, we kept on singing, dancing too until the kids fell asleep in our arms. We put them to bed then and retired ourselves. . . .”
Damaris listened quietly to my story of that night and the stories from the days and nights that followed. I talked about basic training, meeting Dekar, Ira, Hamath, and dozens of others I had served with. I covered the first few years of the war and also the letters I received from Lasha about her and the kids during that time.
Hours passed. Damaris spoke only to prod me deeper into details she felt I held back. I gave them to her no matter how painful they were. Every time I thought I had given her something so awful she’d ask me to stop, she surprised me by squeezing my hand and saying simply, “I’m here. Go on.”
But eventually, I had to stop. Besides a dry throat, I still was not near full strength and being up for so long had exhausted me.
I tried to rest, but my sleep was intermittent with nightmares haunting me.
Naturally, most of them stemmed from the early years of the war with so many memories fresh on my mind. Sprinkled within those nightmares was a dread of how disappointed Lasha would be if she were still alive because I was no longer the man she had fallen in love with.
* * *
I awoke and lay in bed staring at the ceiling. After a time, Damaris came.
She carried two trays of food, one for each of us. There was bread on them, but larger and coated with butter. In place of broth was a bowl of cooked porridge and several small pieces of dried fruit.
I set to it immediately.
“How did you sleep?” she asked, taking the chair beside me.
“Pretty awful.”
“Me too.”
“I tried to warn you. I’ve kept these things to myself for a reason and—”
“I didn’t sleep bad because of what you told me, Tyrus. I was on my side most of the night and got a crick in my neck. That’s all.”
“Oh. Were you able to send my message to Myra and Zadok?”
“Yes. Reuma took it for me.” She anticipated my next question and added. “I haven’t received a response.”
Neither of us said anything more as we ate, finishing at roughly the same time. She took my tray away, then crossed her hands in her lap and looked at me.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
I started. “Are you serious? You want to hear more.”
She shifted in her seat as if getting comfortable. “Yes.”
I shook my head in resignation. “All right.”
I picked up where I had left off, relaying story after story from the war, both good and bad, though because it was war, the bad ones seemed to take center stage. We stopped occasionally to eat, take care of nature’s call, or for Damaris to help me walk around the room.
I had no doubt the latter was a rather pathetic sight, but it was progress.
CHAPTER 48
Ava didn’t know how long she had been out, but she knew the very moment that consciousness returned for pain came with it.
It was not a dull throb slowly engulfing her. Instead, the pain pulsed, grated, tugged, pushed, and even burned all at once. To make matters worse, the hurt covered her entire body, taking on different attributes depending on the location. It wasn’t until she shifted her head and felt the drying stickiness at the back of her neck that her mind cleared enough for her to remember what had happened.
Someone struck me. She took a slow breath, trying to focus. Should have expected that after what I did. Surprised I’m still alive.
Ava moved on the hard stone floor. The clinking and scraping of chains from her movement bounced of what sounded like the walls of a cell. Her efforts awakened new aches over her arms, legs, chest, and waist where she felt the tight metal binds.
A cell. Of course, killing me would be too easy. They want me to suffer for what I did.
She managed to push through the physical pain racking her body, reaching out to draw in power in the hopes that she might at least cast something to dampen her agony. But she could not. Unlike when the artifact had cut her off from sorcery, she felt power around her. The difference was that there seemed to be something separating her from the power. She could feel the power, but she could not grasp it to manipulate.
She whispered a curse, conscious of her dry throat.
A voice said something at the edge of her hearing. “You heard that?”
Two sets of footsteps closed in on her. She wanted to look toward the sound, but she couldn’t bring herself to pry open her crusty eyes. She managed a slight turn of her he
ad instead.
“Told you I heard something. Get Commander Kamau. It looks like she’s awake,” said the voice more clearly.
One set of footsteps hurried over the stone floor, fading in sound until she heard a distant door open and close. The guard who remained at her cell said nothing, but his heavy breathing made his presence known.
Less than a minute later, the heavy door opened and closed once more. Several sets of footsteps grew heavier as they neared. Two men spoke low as they walked, but the echoes of their boots drowned out much of their words. Still, she at least recognized the owner of the voices, Captain Kamau and Sergeant Margo.
Kamau hissed as they came to a halt. “That’s enough Sergeant. You are here out of respect for your efforts to aid the Southern Kingdoms. However, you will obey my word or I will see you in a cell beside this traitor. Is that understood?”
“She’s not a traitor,” he growled.
“Sergeant!”
“Yes, Commander,” Margo said with a huff.
Commander? Not captain?
“Can you hear me, High Mage?” asked Kamau.
Ava nodded her head slightly, then wished she hadn’t as the pain at the back of her head ran down her neck and spine. She let out a low whimper.
Margo muttered something low in Turine. From the tone it sounded like a curse, but Kamau ignored it.
“Can you face me and speak?” Kamau asked with distaste.
Ava tried to answer, and after much effort pushed out a low, “trying to.”
“Molak-be-damned, Commander. Can’t you see how much pain she’s in?”
“I told you to be quiet,” Kamau snapped.
“I will, but by the gods, you have to release some of her bonds. Otherwise, she’ll never make it through this conversation.”
There was a long pause, “Baako. Remove some of the bonds.”
Baako? The name was a Southern Kingdom sorcerer.
“But Commander, they’re for our protection.”
“I understand, but Margo is right. Bind her, but there is no need to punish her.”
“But what if she’s able to recover enough to harm us?”
Forever Soldiers: The Tyrus Chronicle - Book Four Page 43