Yuen-Mong's Revenge by Gian Bordin

lap.
His eyes were closed, but she knew that he was conscious. She washed
his face. It was strange to hold a man, a man helpless like a little child.
Since her parents had died, she had not held another human being in her
arms or had been held by one. In the subdued light of the ring, she could
see the outlines of his face, and removed a strand of curly hair from his
forehead. "You silly man," she whispered. Only then did the realization
sink in that she had pulled off the impossible.
          After recovering her breath, she forced Atun to get up. Although they
were safe from both the savages and the night scavengers, they were still
in danger. They could not remain in the cold water, and there lurked
creatures similar to leeches. Sooner or later they would find them and she
did not want to have to remove those from her skin. They usually left
their head inside, causing nasty infections. She searched the river
downstream until she found a set of boulders, sticking out of the water
and large enough for them to sit and find temporary refuge.
          Atun had not said a word yet. "Drink a bit of water, in small sips," she
ordered.
          He did, and then she gave him a handful of the dried sweetberries.
"Chew them well."
            He shivered, and she took off her vest and wrapped it around him. He
seemed on the verge of fainting, so she held him against her. A short time
later she became aware that he had fallen asleep.
          It was a long night. Toward morning, there was the usual short rainfall
and she started to feel chilly. She woke him. He briefly glanced at her and
then lowered his gaze, murmuring: "Yuen-mong, please forgive me."
            "You are a silly man," she said softly.
          "I know. Please, forgive me."
            "I will now get my gear, and then we go. The faster we are back home,
the better."
            After she had retrieved her gear, she forced him to eat some more and
gave him the soft leather blanket she had used as protection against the
cold up in the mountains, so that he would keep warm. She took back her
vest to cover her own upper torso again.
          He did not have the strength to run. While walking, she kept out a
constant vigil for any emanations from the savages, but they remained
strangely silent. She was sure that no party was after them. She had killed
two of their leaders, so they would be in considerable confusion for
several days until a new one had asserted himself.
          Atun was silent, only nodding or shaking his head in answer to her
questions, never meeting her eyes. When she stood still, he stood still;
when she resumed walking, so did he. He acted like being on automatic
pilot. She tried to reach him, lift his spirits, give him strength —
something she had never done before — but she could feel that he was
almost beyond reacting, in severe shock, and she also suspected that he
was concussed, judging from the bulging swelling at the back of his head.
She would have to deal with his state of mind once they were back in the
cave. Right now her only worry was to get him safely back there, hoping
that his strength would not desert him before then. Since he was emotionally beyond her reach, all she could do was to monitor him, making sure
that he would not faint on her.
          She also knew that she needed to treat his many wounds before they
infected beyond the healing power of her herbal plants. Whenever they
passed by swampy areas, she was on the lookout for the disinfectant plant
the root of which exuded the scab-forming gum. With the many jab
wounds all over his body, she needed quite a few of them.
          Getting him up to the cave was a major struggle. He was unable to
jump to reach the rope. So she first had to climb up and lower it some
more. Then she got him started, staying right below him, giving him
additional support for his feet, letting him stand on her shoulders when
his strength threatened to fail him