She said nothing, allowing Callum to guide her onto her back, his hand gently turning her head to the side in order to get a better look at the cut on her neck. His words lingered in her thoughts. She had never considered her actions heroic in any way. At the time she’d thought only of helping Callum. And even now, it didn’t feel like anything special. She did what had to be done. Callum wasn’t meant to die in that water. He was intended for greater things. She could see it every time her eyes looked into his. At times she wondered if he was aware of his own potential. The bravery he already possessed. On countless occasions he’d thrown himself into danger to save her. A single act on her part seemed hardly enough to repay all he had done.
There was no doubt in her mind that she had changed since stowing away with Callum’s men the night of the wedding. That girl never would have considered risking her life for someone else. Her head had been in the clouds. Filled with nonsense and matters of little importance now that she knew the reality of how the world around her existed. There was no time in life to waste on trivial drama and personal vanity. At any given moment it could be over. She had seen it happen to so many of the men along the way. To Kaemin. He had so much still to live for and his life had been cut short in that single instant. He lost his life while saving hers. There was so much more she needed to do in order to repay a debt of that nature. Even if she risked her life to save a thousand men, she wasn’t sure it would be enough. She could only hope to become a queen worthy of Kaemin’s sacrifice.
Tears lingered on her lashes at the memory of her friend. The pain of loss was still too great for her to think of his face without feeling the overwhelming grief harbored in her heart. It hurt more than the prick of the needle guided by Callum’s hand. When he finished the end of the suture, she was surprised by how fast he worked. It felt only moments since she had lain down, though she could tell by the more prominent strain in Callum’s eyes that it had been much longer.
“The wounds are clean enough. If we keep them washed, there should be no concern of infection,” he stated, setting the needle on the table at Aiva’s side. His hand rested atop his head, the skin so pale it nearly blended with the bandage wrapped over his hair. Slowly he lowered himself onto the chair, arms bent, elbows propped on the edge of the table to support his head as he laid it upon his forearms. His eyes drooped, struggling to maintain consciousness. “I’m just going to close my eyes for a moment. If Enokih returns, I will awaken.”
She watched him nervously. Her heart ached for his misery that he kept bottled inside. He needed a bed. Somewhere to sleep where he could relax his weary muscles. To let go of whatever troubled thoughts filled his head. Sliding from the table she tiptoed to the door, opening it slightly to peer into the hallway of the building they were in. It was oddly shaped. Large pieces of wood formed the walls and ceiling supports, a thatched roof providing cover overhead. She wasn’t sure where the others had gone, but she needed to get Uttae’s attention. Callum couldn’t stay there with her. She worried his injuries were somehow worsening. It would be best if someone more skilled were able to look over the bandages to make sure he was alright.
“General?” she called out hesitantly. Her voice sounded small and hollow. Not loud enough for anyone to hear. Clearing her throat she mustered the courage to try again, projecting further through the house. “General Uttae?”
Movement could be heard from somewhere within the structure. She stood frozen in the hall, listening intently. Footsteps were coming closer. Her heart fluttered nervously. What if he was angry with her for interrupting their dinner? There was no other choice. Callum needed rest. He needed a bed – or at least someplace to lie down. At the sight of Uttae’s broad form rounding the corner her heart began to race even faster. He always looked so stern. Emotions were impossible to read in his dark eyes.
“You should not be up.”
“It is my husband,” she replied quietly, pointing toward the open door behind her. “He is not well. I was not sure what to do.”
Brow furrowed, Uttae stepped past Aiva in long, swift strides to enter the room, coming to stand beside Callum’s sleeping form where he sat, propped against the table. Fingers moving along the veins in Callum’s neck he searched for a pulse, shaking his head in disapproval. “Enokih told me he assisted in the ritual. He should not have strained himself. He is not ready.”
Hesitant in her motions Aiva found her way to Callum’s other side. Concerned for his health, she placed her hand over the back of his neck to check for fever. He was cool. Clammy to the touch. His unresponsiveness frightened her. There was nothing to indicate his awareness of her presence or the pressure of Uttae’s fingers which remained against his skin. She feared he had regressed beyond mere sleep into the unconsciousness which lingered for so long while he was dragged through the jungle, dead to the world around him. Worried, she looked up at Uttae, desperate, hoping he could offer some answer for Callum’s condition. “Will he be alright? Is he okay?”
“In time,” Uttae stated flatly, leaning forward to lift Callum’s sleeping form into his arms with minimal effort. Callum hung there, limp, seemingly lifeless against Uttae’s chest. “Come with me. If you promise to lie down immediately, I will show you to a room where you and your husband can rest. We can evaluate his condition in the morning once he has had time to recover his strength.”
She gave an emphatic nod, falling into step behind Uttae. At that point she would promise anything if it guaranteed Callum a bed. Uttae carried him deeper into the house, the halls becoming darker, torches unlit. After several long moments, he finally stepped through a door, beckoning Aiva to follow.
“There is a torch on the wall which can be lit if you require light, however, I insist you make your way to bed. Do not jostle him much. We should not risk worsening his injuries.” Carefully, Uttae leaned forward, laying Callum’s body down upon something Aiva’s eyes couldn’t see through the darkness of the room. She watched, curious, not fully registering what was being said. “Sleep for now. I will come in the morning and we can discuss what to do about getting you home.”
“Thank you,” Aiva smiled distractedly. Her eyes trailed Uttae as he moved into the hall, realization dawning on her at the sleeping arrangement laid out before them. She and Callum couldn’t sleep in the same room. It wouldn’t be appropriate. Opening her mouth she thought to protest, drawing the breath to speak, though her words never formed. To request a second sleeping quarters would be rude. They were guests in Uttae’s home. She would have to figure something out on her own. Slowly she moved across the room in the direction Uttae went, coming to pause in front of the closed door.
They were alone. It was disconcerting while at the same time she took a mild comfort in knowing the other men from the unit were not around to witness their situation. No one to question their actions while shut away in a dark room together. Anything that happened in Tunir would go no further than the two of them. It was a strange concept to consider. They were outside the watchful eyes of anyone who might take an interest in their personal business. Unlike at court, she had no reason to fear what anyone thought of her. They would simply keep the truth of their close quarters a secret. No one else needed to know.
Cautiously she turned around, peering through the inky blackness of the room. Finding her way around would be impossible without at least the single torch Uttae indicated somewhere along the wall. Extending her hand, she turned her palm toward the ceiling, focusing her internal energy toward the central point, a burst of soft blue light erupting over the skin in a contained ball. A basic trick of the magic she’d learned as a child. It was enough to provide minimal guidance through the unfamiliar surroundings.
Making her way around the wall she searched for the outline of the torch. At the far right she could see what appeared to be a post sticking up from the floor, a charred wick visible at the top. Gently she wrapped her hand around it, the blue light dispersing. She directed her energy to the wick, focusing a build-up of heat until
it flickered to life, tiny flames dancing across the tip as she drew her fingers away. An orange glow washed across the room, illuminating the small quarters. From where she stood, the area was alight enough to see where Callum had been placed. Four posts appeared to have been set into the floor, a hammock-bed tied to each one, hanging only a few feet from the ground. Another torch was situated not far from the makeshift bed, drawing Aiva’s attention in hopes of creating more light. It took only a few moments to set the second wick aflame, her lips curled into an approving smile at her work.
With the extra light, it only made the chamber appear more spacious. Bare. Lacking of furniture aside from the bed. The smell of dust in the air told her the room wasn’t frequently used. A guest quarters in a home with few reasons to entertain anyone other than the owners.
At the back of the room she was surprised to notice a large window cut into the wall, covered by a thick drape to keep out the elements. With slow steps she moved toward it, shifting the curtain to peer outside. No glass was mounted in the frame. Leaves rustled in a soft breeze, the sound of rain pattering gently over the thatched roof. She didn’t have to see much to know that the height of the structure was beyond that of any house she’d ever visited before. Through half-closed eyes she forced herself to look down. Afraid to see the distance between her and the ground. Branches of an impressive tree crossed just below, leaving only enough of an opening to reveal a significant drop. The house was built into a tree; and they were among the leaves.
She swallowed hard, letting the drape settle back into place, eyes lingering on the window in disbelief. They were in a tree? How were they supposed to get down? Stay calm. Uttae had found a way to get them there. She couldn’t panic yet.
Sleep. Uttae wanted her to rest. How was she supposed to do that when her body had done nothing but sleep for days? She couldn’t be sure exactly how long they’d been in Tunir. Time jumbled together in her memory under the effects of the herbs. And it would be at least a few more before Callum was well enough to travel. Uttae had given specific orders not to jostle him. It led her to believe Callum’s injuries were more severe than a mere bump on the head as he claimed. He was just too proud to admit the extent of his suffering. An admission wasn’t necessary. It was evident in his eyes before he fell asleep. Something caused him great pain. She just didn’t know what.
A ponderous look crept over her features. He was asleep. Nothing was stopping her from investigating his wounds. She’d seen the way the divastru flung his body through the air. Although the bruises on his face were clear, the rest of his body was concealed under his clothes. Aiding him in his attempts to hide the truth of his condition. Curiosity ran stronger than her bashfulness to consider the thought of looking under his clothes. What would it hurt? No one would know. Not even Callum. He was too deep in his slumber to be awakened.
She felt almost giddy as she glided along the floor to where Callum laid. Not wanting to create too much disturbance beside him in the bed, she chose to kneel on the uneven floor, slowly reaching her fingers toward the buttons on Callum’s shirt. His doublet had been removed. No doubt taken from him while he was treated for his wounds upon their arrival. For the first time she noticed the blood stains along the dingy fabric. Evidence of the affliction he fought to keep hidden. The buttons gave little resistance to her trembling hands. She was nervous. Afraid he might awaken to find her there. She giggled quietly to herself. How would it look to him? He would think her improper. She couldn’t understand why she found so much humor in a matter that was in no way comical. Nerves. It was the only thing which made any sense.
Upon reaching the bottom of his shirt, she tugged the material away from Callum’s abdomen, gasping softly at what she found there. Every inch of his midsection was blackened. Bruised from the force of the blow dealt by the divastru. Most of the impact had been absorbed by the boat, but his body had taken more of a beating than she thought. Resting her hand over the skin she could feel the swelling. Even in his slumber she sensed his pain. How he managed to move at all was incredible.
Letting her fingers trail along his stomach she slid them under the fabric still covering Callum’s chest, grimacing to see the bruises in varying shades of purple and blue all the way to his collarbone. Tears threatened at the corners of her eyes, fighting to hold them back. It was so easy to forget what a miracle it was that either of them was alive. She could have lost him. Her heart pounded at the thought, racked by an unfamiliar wave of emotions so chaotic and indistinguishable. It was impossible to know how she truly felt in that moment. Relieved. Blessed. The gods had seen fit to give her a second chance with Callum. She shook her head miserably. It was more than her second chance. She couldn’t let this one slip through her fingers. Not now. Not after this.
Lost in the depths of her thoughts she rose to her feet. She stood before the torch at the bedside, gathering her energy to direct it in a wave toward the flames, the light quickly extinguished. The flickering glow of the torch across the room would be enough to provide comfort without disturbing Callum’s rest.
She drew in a deep breath, settling herself on the hammock-bed at Callum’s side. It was wrong for her to even consider lying there with him, but she didn’t care. Sleep was out of the question. The herbs had finally worn off and the desire to close her eyes was non-existent. There was nothing wrong with staying at Callum’s side if she wasn’t going to close her eyes. No one was there to misconstrue her actions as anything more than simple watchfulness over his condition, solicitous about his health.
Sliding in against Callum, she turned onto her side, careful not to bump him too hard, afraid of hurting him. She watched his face for any sign of discomfort while positioning herself, lightly resting her hand atop his bare chest. Without the cover of his shirt she could better feel the temperature of his skin. The beat of his heart. At his side she could monitor the gentle rise and fall with each breath. The closeness was comforting. To feel him there. To know he was with her. She wasn’t alone. This is perfectly innocent, she told herself, leaning her head against Callum’s shoulder. All she had to do was keep her eyes open. Come morning they would meet with Uttae and begin preparations for their trip to Luquarr. There was much to think about before the sun rose again to bring with it a new day. One that somehow felt borrowed. But they were alive. And she intended to take advantage of every extra second she had been given.
A sudden pressure startled Aiva awake, jarred from her sleep with a surprised gasp. She wasn’t certain when she drifted off. Opening her eyes, she was now distinctly aware of Callum’s body shifting under hers, roused from his slumber, disoriented by their surroundings. “Aiva, what are you doing?” he breathed. His hands moved to close the unbuttoned front of his shirt. Aiva sat up, cheeks flushed to realize why Callum sounded so confused, her body having remained curled at his side throughout the night.
“I didn’t want to lie too far away while you slept,” she stammered, embarrassed. “It’s nothing to be concerned about. I used to do the same with Edric when I was younger and was frightened by bad dreams. It’s perfectly innocent.”
“Innocent? I’m not your brother, Aiva. There is nothing innocent about a young woman lying in bed beside a man.” Callum drew a deep breath in obvious discomfort from his injuries, unable to move from where he lay on his back.
Aiva stared at him, bewildered. “You may not be my brother, but you’re not just some random man. We’ve been friends since I was a baby, Callum. There is nothing wrong – ”
“Propriety cares not about friendship,” he cut in, the statement stern and forceful. “If anyone were to find out we shared this bed, do you have any idea the rumors it would cause? People will suspect…” his voice faded, watching Aiva climb to her feet. She shook her head vehemently, frustrated by his reaction. He was so worried about what others would think. Did he not notice the lack of those supposed “others” in their presence?
“Who exactly is going to suspect anything?” she demanded, chin jutted forward
in defiance. “Have you failed to see that there is no one here with us? No courtiers to gossip. No soldiers to presume our actions. We are alone. Our friends and family believe us dead. You’re all I have. I find it hard to consider it a crime for me to want to remain close to you. Especially in your current health. I was afraid to leave your side. I just – was not planning on falling asleep.”
Callum closed his eyes, his breath ragged. “My health is fine.”
“You can’t lie to me, Callum. I have seen your injuries.”
“Yes, I can see that,” he clenched his fingers tighter over his unbuttoned shirt, his eyelids opening to peer at Aiva in confusion. “I didn’t anticipate you removing my clothes to see them. I assumed they would be safely concealed.”
She blushed at the exaggeration of his words. His clothes weren’t removed. She had merely… looked underneath them. “I did no such thing,” she replied in defense. “What else was there to do? You never would have admitted the extent of your pain and you know it. To be honest, I’m offended that you find it necessary to keep such things from me. Are you really so proud that you cannot open up to me? That you feel compelled to hide your feelings the way you do with your men? I wouldn’t judge you.”
“You have judged me in the past. How can I know you won’t do so again?”
“And you will condemn me for that mistake for the rest of my life?” A stabbing pain shot through her heart at his words, like a knife cutting it to shreds. It was enough that she continued to hate herself for the foolishness of her accusations in Tanispa. She wanted nothing more than to go back in time and hold her tongue from spewing the nonsense which had led to tarnishing the reputation of one of the most loyal and honorable men she had ever met. He knew she’d thrown him to the wolves yet he still risked his life countless times to save hers. She lowered her eyes, not wanting to look at him. It hurt to see the pain she’d caused. The irreparable damage she had done to their friendship.
The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Two: Beyond the Veil Page 49
