Page 65 of Warrior of the Wild
“How’s the pain? Do you need—”
“Soren!”
He sits up straight. “What?”
“Don’t you have work to do?”
“I’ve already finished. I’m at your disposal.”
I consider telling him I’m tired and wish for quiet, but while the second may be true, the first is a lie. So I settle for a brutal truth. “You’re hovering. It’s driving me mad.”
“It is?”
“Yes.”
He ponders that a moment. “When I was ill, I loved it when Pamadel fussed over me.” That must be Iric’s mother.
“She must do it better than you do.”
He gives me a wide grin.
I can’t even make him go away by insulting him. Apparently, I’m too funny about it.
“All right, then,” he says. “What am I doing wrong? How would your mother fuss over you?”
Suddenly my chest feels heavier. My face grows hotter. “She wouldn’t. If she could get away with it, she’d lock me in a room without food or water and let nature run its course.”
That, at least, shuts him up, but it only lasts about a minute.
“Did she have something to do with your banishment?”
I would have thought Iric would have told him what happened, but it would seem he hasn’t shared our conversation. I only told him about Torrin, but if Soren is asking what happened, he doesn’t know any of it.
“Yes, she had a hand in my banishment.”
There’s a hole somewhere under my skin, where Peruxolo’s blade opened me up, but thinking of my mother is a far worse pain. And having shared that pain with Soren? A discomfort so rich shoots up and down my body, making me want to squirm from it.Why did I tell him that? I’m not at my best, injured as I am. I must keep my thoughts to myself. I don’t want his pity or his sympathy or whatever else he’ll likely say.
Soren bends at the knees until he’s crouched in front of me, meeting my eyes. “When you kill Peruxolo, think of the look on her face.”
There’s something about the sincerity andfervorin his eyes that makes my stomach tingle. Something in my mind shifts, and suddenly I’m not in such a hurry to get rid of Soren anymore.
When, he’d said. Notif, butwhen. He believes in me. He’s still set on helping me.
We stay like that for a moment, each of us intently watching the other. It isn’t until the trapdoor opens with abangand Iric climbs through that we look away.
I’M STUCK ON THEfloor of that tree house for a week before I can finally rise on my own. In all that time, I don’t broach the topic with Iric regarding our mattugrs again. And I let up on Soren and his fussing over me.
Despite being able to sit up and lie down, I know that I can’t strain the injury. Running or swinging my ax could open me up again. The bruise on my abdomen has faded to yellow, and the bump has gone away, but the last thing I want is to start bleeding internally again.
So instead of leaving for my fort, I stay with the boys.
“I made you something,” Soren says when he arrives home after finishing his chores. He handles something bulky in front of him.
“What is it?” I ask. I hope the question isn’t rude. Am I supposedto know what that wad of hides is? Some sort of blanket? It looks far too coarse for that.
“I’ve sewed some hides together but left an opening right here.” He points to one corner of the fabric.
All right…
