Chapter 16. Awakening

is memories after the attack were dim and limned in pain.  There had been blackness and cold.  Somewhere in the confusion he remembered Zhou coming to him and he had curled in the man’s arms like a child, sobbing.  Safety and freedom from misery and then panic as his master fought to dislodge him and failed.  Pleading and pain.  He wanted to live. 

And Lemony speaking to him as if from a dream.  Falling and terror.  Alone in darkness and weak, he remembered his prison in the sewers and Luitha.  Starvation and cold.  The water.  But he was alive, though his existence was afire with agony. 

There was a monk with brown hair and red tattoos, a woman.  He remembered seeing her between sips of tepid water and bland soup and the honeyed doses of sleeping draught.  Pendaran did not want to sleep any more, he wanted Teleri and sunlight.  He wanted proof that the life he had struggled for was not lost.  He missed her with an ache to match his sundered body.

His vision was blurred for a time, his lashes crusted from sleep and fever.  Swallowing he breathed in the scent of flowers, incense, clean linen and his own sweat.  Life.  He was home in his own body once more but sluggish and weary.  How long had it been since the attack?  The monk was standing over him again and he gazed blearily up at her.

“Good morning,” she said quietly as she slid an arm beneath his nape and shoulders.  He winced at the sharp jab of pain in his side, an echo of the daggers.  He tried to speak but all that came out was a sigh and the monk mistook his effort for a desire to drink and trickled water into his mouth.  Pendaran choked helplessly, tears brimming his eyes as his body reacted with searing pain.  The merest movement was torment.

“Easy, take it slow,” the monk soothed, “We are hoping to keep you awake for a few hours today, but if the pain is too great we’ll let you sleep some more.”

“Hurts,” Pendaran gasped, aware that he was clenching his fists beneath the blankets and there was something clutched in his left hand.  Something pressed against his side.  A warm body clutched his arm beneath the blankets.

“Let me move the boy,” the monk murmured, putting the water aside.  She withdrew the upper quilt to reveal Mabane fast asleep beside him, his back pressed against Pendaran’s side in an almost possessive fashion, “He must have crept here last night after Teleri nodded off.  Is he your son?”

“Wish he was,” Pendaran sighed and the words made his throat tighten with sadness.  Dear gods why did Mabane have to see him like this?  The poor child had already endured the death of his father.  And now this, “Let him stay, please.”

“Alright then, but it might ease the strain on your body not to have people lying on top of you.”

Pendaran ran his thumb over the disk in his left hand.  A coin.

“Not your job to take care of me, Mabane,” he thought gently, discovering that despite the pain he could find the shimmering essence of the boy’s sleeping mind and speak into it, “I’ll be alright.  Don’t worry about me.”

“Pen?” the boy moaned softly, stirring. 

“Good morning, sleepy head,” the monk said to the boy, “You should get up now.  I need to take care of Pendaran.”

“Can I help, Revel?” Mabane croaked earnestly and Pendaran lost his composure, turning his face away to weep quietly. 

“Go fetch your mother, little one.  Pendaran is in a lot of pain and he needs you both now.”

He felt the boy rise from his side.

“It’s alright, Master, I’ll come back.”

Revel gently cleaned the sweat and tears from Pendaran’s face with a damp cloth, smiling sadly.

“It is natural to feel as you do after what you have been through,” the woman soothed, “Mabane has shared the vigil with his mother.  He raised such a fuss when they tried to take him home that I insisted he be allowed to stay.  That’s why I thought he was your son.”

“He shouldn’t be here.  Not his duty to protect me.  He is just a boy.”

“Where should he be, then?  His mother won’t leave your side and clearly he loves you.”

"No, not love.  Need.  He needs me but I am too broken to give him anything but pain.  Dear gods, this is cruel.  The boy should not have to endure this."

“It’s wrong,” Pendaran whispered, “He hardly knows me.”

“Maybe what the boy needs is to decide for himself and ask for it,” Revel said, pausing now to slowly prop Pendaran up amid a mound of pillows.  He gasped in pain, transfixed by it as he was made to bend around the stiff bandages over his abdomen.  He cried out involuntarily and Revel let him lie for a moment, her brow lined with concern.  Panting, he lay there nauseous and agonized, his balled fists scurrying under the blankets as he fought the urge to cry out again.  The taste of his own blood was the only clue that he had bitten his lip hard enough to pierce the skin.

“This won’t do,” Revel moaned as she rushed to remedy the situation by cleaning the blood away with a freshly dampened cloth, “Just scream if you have to.”

“Gods,” Pendaran sobbed, “I just want it to stop.”

Revel nodded, and he heard the clink of vials and the grinding of mortar and pestle.  The sleeping draught, the escape from suffering.  He longed for it, longed for freedom from pain and yet he despised it for it robbed him of life.  He wanted to see Teleri again.  No pain in the world could stop him. 

“I’m going to ease you slowly off of this draught over the next few days,” Revel said as she worked the contents of the pestle into a fine paste. Pendaran shook his head.  He wanted to be awake.  Please let him see Teleri, then he could endure any amount of suffering.

“No, I want to be awake.”

“Most likely you will always be in pain now,” Revel said quietly, continuing to grind something green and sticky in the mortar.

“The pain won’t go away?”

“You were torn up pretty badly and the healing was delayed until things began to fester and die.  Dwayna can only shed her blessings upon flesh that is living.  We removed what we could, we mended what we could.  But the fact is, Pendaran, your wound healed imperfectly and so you will be in pain.  Possibly you will be crippled.”

“Pain as bad as this?” he gasped, horrified by her words as he began to sweat, the pain echoing the stab wounds as he tensed.

“No, it should become less vivid over time.  I’ll ease you off of the sleeping draught slowly then we’ll find out if an infusion of valerian will cut the pain enough to make life tolerable.”

“Crippled?”

“Can you feel your legs?”

Pendaran could barely feel anything beyond the constant throb of the pain.  With effort, he wriggled the toes of his left foot and shifted that leg, but to his horror, he could feel nothing but dead weight where his right leg lay.

“Gods,” he wept as the implications sank in.  Revel put aside her work and drew up a chair to sit beside him, a steady hand upon his shoulder.

“We were lucky merely to save your life, Pendaran,” she said gently.

“I know.  I am grateful,” he replied.  He was glad to be alive but the cost was high and while the pain had him he would have moments of regret.  But not now.  Teleri had entered the room looking weary and delicate, her pretty face marred with sadness.  Mabane was beside her, his hand clasped in hers and his visage mirroring her grief.

“Good morning, Pen,” Teleri said softly, as if her words would cause him more pain if spoken any louder.  She could see him shuddering beneath the blankets and no doubt his face was strained and filmed with sweat.  He smiled for her.

“Good morning, my love.  I have missed you.”

She bit her lip, clearly trying to fight her emotion but her eyes deceived her and a fresh flood of tears poured down her cheeks.  Pendaran willed his left hand free of the blankets and held it out to her, the coin still clutched in his palm and the effort renewing the fire of pain in his body.  Laughing sadly, she took it, kissing his knuckles and clutching his hand possessively as she drew closer until her lips brushed his forehead.  He kissed her chin before she could withdraw, silently begging for her lips and grateful when she sought him, allowing him to taste her sweetness.  He loved her completely, giving himself over to her until the strain left his body and he relaxed.  The pain eased and he lay still at last as she sat at his side.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” he said as she gazed tearfully down at him, her hand playing over his face and smoothing his hair.  Her grief was palpable to him, as was Mabane’s.  He could sense their rawness as if it were his own.  He should never have left Cantha.  Zhou had tried to warn him, but he had insisted upon returning to lawless, broken Tyria.

“Are you in too much pain, sweet one?” Teleri asked, “We can wait a few more days if you want to sleep some more.”

“I am in pain, but you are here now and it is less.”

“Pen, you don’t need to lie to me. I won’t have you suffer on my behalf.”

“I speak the truth,” he said, smiling for it was true and he hoped she saw it was so.  He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the feel of her warm hand upon his brow.

“Very well, then,” she replied, kissing his hand again, “but if it becomes too much, please do not suffer on my account.”

“I promise.”

“Sywno is on his way,” she said, “and our friends.”

As if on cue, the corridor outside the little room resounded with their arrival.  Silver-haired Sywno emerged first, his lanky frame having to bow slightly to go through the low door.  The old ranger used a staff now to move about and had taken on the appearance of a sage in his green and gray robes.  He moved to Revel’s side and gazed down grimly upon Pendaran, his slate colored eyes searching his face.

“Welcome back,” the old man said, touching Pendaran’s shoulder gently but saying nothing more as he looked upon Teleri and smiled at her. Next came Morisedd, a younger version of Swyno with a long tail of untidy brown hair and eyes that were piercing and angry beneath brooding brows.  He bowed deferentially to Pendaran, indicating something had changed between them, but clearly he was not happy about it.  Next came Brigit and with her Kantele smiling shyly at him.  The final visitor was a Canthan monk in imperial finery wearing a white cape whose emblem was not currently visible to Pendaran.  His calm mien spoke of restrained puissance and he nodded politely as their gazes met across the room.

He glanced at Teleri.

“Where is Nandao?  I wanted to ask him if he ever discovered what that letter said.”

“He certainly did,” Revel scowled, “and it was late as usual.”

“We will not speak of it now,” Swyno said calmly, “We have another matter of greater import.”

Pendaran nodded.  He had been awakened for a purpose and now he was about to hear it.

“It is not safe for you to remain in Tyria,” the man continued, “and by extension, it is not safe for those who guard you.  Master Xiang Yi of Crystal Palm has come to escort you back to Cantha.  I am here to encourage you to go for I can no longer provide you protection or shelter.”

“I will go.”

Xiang Yi drew closer and presented a steeple-palmed bow to Pendaran.

“Master Zhou sends his regards.  He regrets that you were harmed but expresses his joy that your life was preserved.  He extends an invitation to stay at the compound in Kaineng and will offer shelter and protection to you and any who choose to follow you.”

“I’m going,” Brigit said boldly, “I know the guild boasts a full complement of warriors, but this time I’m not letting him out of my sight and I’ll cleave anyone who so much as breathes a threat at him.”

Pendaran blushed and chuckled even though it hurt to do so.  She was dead serious and her sky blue eyes gleamed with emotion and anger.  He felt the coolness of her rage and the burning shame of her failure.

“Not your fault,” he said gently, “Don’t blame yourself.”

He watched as the anger that was blocking her grief faded and she blinked away unwelcome tears.  Then, a warrior once more, she mastered herself and winked at him.

“I will also go with Pendaran,” Teleri said evenly and he felt the hot jab of Morisedd’s anger, “and I have talked to Mabane.  He will come with me.”

Pendaran expected Morisedd’s angry protest, but the man only nodded in deference to his sister’s wishes, his jaws clenched.

“I would like to travel with you,” Kantele said quietly, “I am eager to reach Cantha’s shores and would be honored to go at your side.”

“I would like that,” Teleri replied, “You have been a good friend to me and I am certain Master Zhou would give you a safe place to stay during your visit.”

“Indeed,” Xiang Yi said.

“Then the matter is settled,” Swyno said, “I wish you safe journey and healing, Master Pendaran.  I only regret that we could not provide adequate protection.”

“I thank you for welcoming me as a guest.”

The old man nodded and rose.  As he strode from the room, he grasped Morisedd’s arm and urged him stiffly to come away with him.

“The Swift Wind has been requisitioned for our journey,” Xiang Yi said once the two rangers were gone, “She leaves on the turning tide six hours hence.  If you would speak with me about Master Pendaran’s condition, Sister Revel, I will make the necessary preparations to allow for his comfort and safety on the voyage.”

Pendaran closed his eyes.  Teleri and Mabane were coming with him.  His joy overrode his pain and he smiled up at her, aware that she was awash with grief and fear at having to leave her family and homeland.

“I will make it up to you, my love, I promise.”

“I know,” she replied, squeezing his hand, “Rest now.  The journey will be hard on you and you’ll need your strength to get through it.”

“With you beside me, I could endure anything.”

“Always the charmer, even when you lie broken,” she whispered as she kissed his brow, “You can stop being brave for me, Love.  Revel told me what lies in store.”

“I will overcome it.”

“I know,” she said, but she could not hide the dark cloud of doubt that dwelt within her.