Page 10 of Sky in the Deep
He reached down, snatching up a handful of my hair, and pulled me to my feet. From the corner of my eye, I could see the others taking hold of the horse’s reins. I moaned, thearrow wedged through my shoulder joint radiating a hot pain down into my arm, neck, and back. I tried to swallow it down as he pulled me, my braids tangled in his fist, back toward the clearing.
Where Iri was waiting.
SIX
Ipulled at the ropes tying my hands and feet to the cart with blistering fingers, trying to hold myself still on my right side as it rocked and swayed over the uneven ground. The arrow was still threaded between my bones, the pain so deep now that I could feel it spreading through my entire body.
Iri rode behind, watching me, and I gave up trying to read the look on his face so I could focus every ounce of strength I had left on keeping still. When darkness fell and the cart began to slow, I watched fires light through half-opened eyes and was asleep before the camp quieted.
Morning came a wheezing breath later. I swallowed against a raw throat and listened to the Riki come awake, putting out fires and readying their horses. I bit down so hard I thought my teeth might break when we started movingagain, hooking my arms and legs into the rails of the cart to brace myself.
The white-hot heat in my shoulder ached all the way into my ears, making my head feel like it was going to crack open. I didn’t look for Iri again. The only thing cutting deeper than the agony of the arrow was the knowledge that he was a traitor. That he was alive. All this time.
Hours passed in between waking and sleeping until I wasn’t sure if I was dead or alive. The cart slowed again and the crunch of hooves on frozen ground replaced the sound of sliding rock. I curled up tighter as we started to go uphill and tried not to scream as my weight was pulled toward my feet.
We didn’t stop until the air turned cold in the setting sun and the scent of snow met the smell of fire. Then there was cheering. The muffled sound of crying. Warriors coming home for the winter to wives and husbands and children. I knew that sound. I could see the fjord in my mind. The view of it from up on the ridge. Blues and greens jetting up out of the water and disappearing into the foggy sky. The black rock beach with whitewashed driftwood piled on the shore. My clansmen were probably already there, warming themselves before the fires in their wood-planked homes. Burrowed into their beds with full stomachs.
My father. Mýra.
It stung almost as much as the arrow punctured through my flesh.
The Riki left me lying there until voices pushed in at theedges of my blurred thoughts and the cart shook again. I cringed.
“Where am I going to put her?” A rasping voice came from the darkness beside me.
Another body climbed up and I winced against the pain it sent running through my back. “I’ll do it.”
The ropes around me were cut and hands pulled at my legs, sliding me to the end of the cart. As I was lifted up, the arrow caught on something and I groaned. My insides churned in a violent sea and my eyes flew open to see Iri’s face above me. I blinked, trying to bring him into focus before my eyes rolled back into my head.
When I pulled them open again, I was on the ground. Inside. The color of fire lit the dark room around me. A barn. Or maybe a storehouse.
A calloused hand pressed to my face. “She’s burning up.”
“Probably infection.” Another voice. “Get her on the table.”
The hands took me up again and the room spun around me.
Cold night air pinched at my skin as they worked at my armor vest and I kicked, reaching for my knife, but the sheath was empty.
“Stop.” Iri’s face came back into view.
I grabbed onto him, my fingers digging into the leather of his armor. “Get it out,” I whimpered as hot tears gathered at the corners of my eyes.
“We will.” He disappeared from view again.
Another shadow stepped in front of me and hands gently pressed around the arrowhead. “We should wait for Runa.”
“She’s with the wounded from Aurvanger. Just get it out of her.” My brother’s deep voice was too loud in my head. His hand grasped my arm and I wrenched it back, cursing. I needed him to take out the arrow, but the thought of him trying to comfort me made me sick.
The figure in front of me shifted and the firelight caught his face. Fiske.
I jerked back. “Get away from me!”
His hand came down over my mouth and I took his throat in between my fingers, compressing his windpipe. He knocked my hand away.
“Don’ttouchme,” I hissed, writhing on the table.
“He’s going to take it out, Eelyn. Quiet.” Iri was behind me, tearing fabric into strips.
