seemed stable enough.
“Keep him awake,” the healer told Zerafine, “and if he starts feeling sick or dizzy, or has trouble keeping his balance, get him to one of Kalindi’s theloi . I’d say let Jerontius take care of it now, but I’m afraid my colleague is exhausted.” They all looked at the little man with the suns on his tunic, who sat on the curb looking more ill than his patient, who was lying on the ground talking emphatically with some of the members of the crowd. He stopped talking long enough to look at Gerrard, then struggled to his feet. The healer tried to make him sit, but the man persisted.
“You saved my life. I can’t begin to repay that debt. Thank you, thank you,” he said,
clasping Gerrard about the shoulders. The woman—his companion, possibly his wife, held out a heavy sack. “They all helped gather it up for you. You’re all right, yes? I can’t believe you were willing to pull me out of there, and at such a cost to you! You’re not badly injured, I hope?”
“I’m fine,” Gerrard said. By the still-ashy cast to his skin, he was lying. He took the bag filled with seicorum and said, “Half of this is yours, by right.”
The man flushed and stepped back. “I couldn’t possibly take it. I can’t allow myself to
benefit from simply being in the wrong place when it showed up. Perhaps the healers...?”
“Good idea,” Gerrard said. He dug through the pouch until he found something he liked.
“Look,” he grunted, and showed the stone to Zerafine. One corner of the irregular chunk was stained dark with blood. “I’m keeping this one.” Zerafine grimaced.
Gerrard then approached the healers and gave them each a large handful of seicorum , which turned out to be a double handful for them. He tucked the bag with its remaining contents into his belt. “Excuse us,” he rumbled, and led Zerafine through the crowd. Nacalia followed close behind, her hand gripping the hem of Gerrard’s tunic.
“Sorry,” he said when they’d left everything behind. “I’m just feeling a little—dizzy.” He tottered over to sit on the rim of a convenient fountain. He used some of the water to splash his head. Pale red trails of water ran down his scalp and into the neck of his tunic.
“We need to get you to a divine healer,” Zerafine said, but he shook his head, and winced.
“No, I was only dizzy because there were so many people there,” he replied. “I’m going to be fine. The nice healer said so.”
“We should go back home and do this another day.”
“And give me time to think of reasons why we shouldn’t? You really want that?”
“What I want is a sentare who isn’t going to pass out on the docks.”
“At least you’d have a crane handy to get me up again.”
“Could you take this seriously, please?”
“Zerafine, I am taking this seriously. I’m not stupid and I’m not foolhardy. If I thought I was in the least bit incapacitated, I would be the first to go to a thelos for healing. Could you stop behaving like a mother hen?”
Zerafine, stung, retorted, “You didn’t have to see yourself lying there with blood all over your head and a face like death! You scared the life out of me! I thought—” She stopped, feeling the tears well up again.
Gerrard looked at her, then reached out to hold her close. “I’m an idiot,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m a big dumb ox. Forgive me.”
Zerafine nodded into his chest. He was large and warm and solid and she felt at peace for the first time in—how long had it even taken? An hour? Five minutes? She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him.
“I’ll stop mothering you,” she said, wiping her eyes, “if you swear you won’t push yourself and you’ll tell me if you start feeling strange.”
He held her tighter. “Promise.”
Something about the way he said it made her feel awkward, and she stepped away. “I do feel hungry,” he added. “But that’s not strange, for me.”
She laughed
“Keep him awake,” the healer told Zerafine, “and if he starts feeling sick or dizzy, or has trouble keeping his balance, get him to one of Kalindi’s theloi . I’d say let Jerontius take care of it now, but I’m afraid my colleague is exhausted.” They all looked at the little man with the suns on his tunic, who sat on the curb looking more ill than his patient, who was lying on the ground talking emphatically with some of the members of the crowd. He stopped talking long enough to look at Gerrard, then struggled to his feet. The healer tried to make him sit, but the man persisted.
“You saved my life. I can’t begin to repay that debt. Thank you, thank you,” he said,
clasping Gerrard about the shoulders. The woman—his companion, possibly his wife, held out a heavy sack. “They all helped gather it up for you. You’re all right, yes? I can’t believe you were willing to pull me out of there, and at such a cost to you! You’re not badly injured, I hope?”
“I’m fine,” Gerrard said. By the still-ashy cast to his skin, he was lying. He took the bag filled with seicorum and said, “Half of this is yours, by right.”
The man flushed and stepped back. “I couldn’t possibly take it. I can’t allow myself to
benefit from simply being in the wrong place when it showed up. Perhaps the healers...?”
“Good idea,” Gerrard said. He dug through the pouch until he found something he liked.
“Look,” he grunted, and showed the stone to Zerafine. One corner of the irregular chunk was stained dark with blood. “I’m keeping this one.” Zerafine grimaced.
Gerrard then approached the healers and gave them each a large handful of seicorum , which turned out to be a double handful for them. He tucked the bag with its remaining contents into his belt. “Excuse us,” he rumbled, and led Zerafine through the crowd. Nacalia followed close behind, her hand gripping the hem of Gerrard’s tunic.
“Sorry,” he said when they’d left everything behind. “I’m just feeling a little—dizzy.” He tottered over to sit on the rim of a convenient fountain. He used some of the water to splash his head. Pale red trails of water ran down his scalp and into the neck of his tunic.
“We need to get you to a divine healer,” Zerafine said, but he shook his head, and winced.
“No, I was only dizzy because there were so many people there,” he replied. “I’m going to be fine. The nice healer said so.”
“We should go back home and do this another day.”
“And give me time to think of reasons why we shouldn’t? You really want that?”
“What I want is a sentare who isn’t going to pass out on the docks.”
“At least you’d have a crane handy to get me up again.”
“Could you take this seriously, please?”
“Zerafine, I am taking this seriously. I’m not stupid and I’m not foolhardy. If I thought I was in the least bit incapacitated, I would be the first to go to a thelos for healing. Could you stop behaving like a mother hen?”
Zerafine, stung, retorted, “You didn’t have to see yourself lying there with blood all over your head and a face like death! You scared the life out of me! I thought—” She stopped, feeling the tears well up again.
Gerrard looked at her, then reached out to hold her close. “I’m an idiot,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m a big dumb ox. Forgive me.”
Zerafine nodded into his chest. He was large and warm and solid and she felt at peace for the first time in—how long had it even taken? An hour? Five minutes? She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him.
“I’ll stop mothering you,” she said, wiping her eyes, “if you swear you won’t push yourself and you’ll tell me if you start feeling strange.”
He held her tighter. “Promise.”
Something about the way he said it made her feel awkward, and she stepped away. “I do feel hungry,” he added. “But that’s not strange, for me.”
She laughed
Similar Books
