moment before he was able to continue with, “The Honored One goes to Whitestone on pilgrimage, while I journey there to join the priesthood, as was my father’s dying wish. Everyone said if my mother were living, it would have been her wish as well.”
He gasped those last words out in short, panting breaths. As I heard him grinding his teeth against the pain, I hesitated to ask what was on my mind. But I needed to know.
“You’re not already a priest then?” I asked.
“Not yet, but Thilstain was instructing me.”
This isn’t good news , I thought uneasily. “I advise you to keep that fact to yourself,” I told him. “The outlaws spare you for the sake of your priesthood. If they learn you’re not an Honored, they’ll have no compunction at killing you.”
“An upright man doesn’t lie,” he pompously informed me.
“Then that man sets little store by his life,” I answered. But sensing he was going to remain stubborn on the issue, I switched to a more persuasive tone. “Besides, you don’t have to lie exactly. The assumption has already been made. It would be enough simply to hold your peace and let folk believe what they will.”
His tone was hesitant. “But that’s little different from a lie.”
“What does it matter?” I demanded, losing patience. “What’s one small lie to a lot of cutthroats anyway? Give them the truth and they’ll kill you for thanks.”
The boy either lacked the will to argue further or he couldn’t summon the breath to do so.
“You should rest now,” I said. “But think on what I’ve told you. I haven’t gone to all this trouble only to see you kill yourself as soon as you get a chance to open your mouth.”
“I am grateful to you,” he said humbly. “I’ve much to thank you for.”
“Forget it. Do you need anything?”
He asked for a drink of water, so I crept off to the nearby pool, filled a skin with the cool, clear water from the falls, and brought it back to him. After drinking thirstily, he quickly sank into an exhausted slumber.
***
The next day, noise and activity were kept to a minimum around camp to afford quiet for Dradac. I doubt anyone even remembered Terrac, the boy priest, unless they looked up to see me slithering in and out of the shelter all day, waiting on his needs.
He fared even worse today, waking rarely and only for short lengths of time. He gave no sign he remembered me or last night’s conversation. He moaned and tossed around until he finally tore his stitches open and I had to fetch Javen to repair them. I felt relief each time the injured boy sank down again into a fitful rest.
It was a long day for me because my charge lacked strength to do anything for himself. I fed him, coaxed sips of water down his throat, and changed his bandages. Come nightfall, I was exhausted as I lay down to sleep. As I sprawled on the hard-packed earth beside his sleeping form, a numbing chill stole over the ground. Scooting over to press my back against the still, warm body beside me, I fell asleep wondering what would become of Terrac of Deep Pool and whether or not he would prove worth my efforts.
***
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
He gasped those last words out in short, panting breaths. As I heard him grinding his teeth against the pain, I hesitated to ask what was on my mind. But I needed to know.
“You’re not already a priest then?” I asked.
“Not yet, but Thilstain was instructing me.”
This isn’t good news , I thought uneasily. “I advise you to keep that fact to yourself,” I told him. “The outlaws spare you for the sake of your priesthood. If they learn you’re not an Honored, they’ll have no compunction at killing you.”
“An upright man doesn’t lie,” he pompously informed me.
“Then that man sets little store by his life,” I answered. But sensing he was going to remain stubborn on the issue, I switched to a more persuasive tone. “Besides, you don’t have to lie exactly. The assumption has already been made. It would be enough simply to hold your peace and let folk believe what they will.”
His tone was hesitant. “But that’s little different from a lie.”
“What does it matter?” I demanded, losing patience. “What’s one small lie to a lot of cutthroats anyway? Give them the truth and they’ll kill you for thanks.”
The boy either lacked the will to argue further or he couldn’t summon the breath to do so.
“You should rest now,” I said. “But think on what I’ve told you. I haven’t gone to all this trouble only to see you kill yourself as soon as you get a chance to open your mouth.”
“I am grateful to you,” he said humbly. “I’ve much to thank you for.”
“Forget it. Do you need anything?”
He asked for a drink of water, so I crept off to the nearby pool, filled a skin with the cool, clear water from the falls, and brought it back to him. After drinking thirstily, he quickly sank into an exhausted slumber.
***
The next day, noise and activity were kept to a minimum around camp to afford quiet for Dradac. I doubt anyone even remembered Terrac, the boy priest, unless they looked up to see me slithering in and out of the shelter all day, waiting on his needs.
He fared even worse today, waking rarely and only for short lengths of time. He gave no sign he remembered me or last night’s conversation. He moaned and tossed around until he finally tore his stitches open and I had to fetch Javen to repair them. I felt relief each time the injured boy sank down again into a fitful rest.
It was a long day for me because my charge lacked strength to do anything for himself. I fed him, coaxed sips of water down his throat, and changed his bandages. Come nightfall, I was exhausted as I lay down to sleep. As I sprawled on the hard-packed earth beside his sleeping form, a numbing chill stole over the ground. Scooting over to press my back against the still, warm body beside me, I fell asleep wondering what would become of Terrac of Deep Pool and whether or not he would prove worth my efforts.
***
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
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