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“Your warrior needs healing,” she tells me. “Otherwise, his injury will become more difficult to repair.”
I look back at Fort, who is waiting for me to take the lead. A silent guard that I know is more than ready to deal with what must be agonizing pain for as long as he needs to without complaint.
Salma could have had us killed the moment she saw us.
Then again when she brought us into this village.
My only hope is that she’s not planning to trap us now.
Chapter 14
Carleah
With a deep breath, I move into the house.
A fire dances in the center, a black pot hanging from a bar over the middle of it. An older man glances back at us with a smile that reaches his eyes and lights up his entire face. “Welcome,” he greets. “Come and sit.”
“The warrior needs tending,” Salma tells him, her tone full of respect.
“Then let me see.” The man gestures for Fort to have a seat on a wooden table that has been carved directly from the trunk of a tree. Naked bark still decorates the sides and legs though the top is smooth.
Fort does as he asks, sitting, and I move in directly beside him. Every muscle in Fort’s large body is tense as the man reaches for his arm.
“You must be in great pain,” he says. “You have ripped your shoulder from where it sits inside your body.”
I can all but feel the color drain from my face. “Can you fix him?”
The man nods. “I have healed much worse. But it will be painful.” He looks to Salma. “I need men to hold him down.”
She starts to turn, but Fort shakes his head. “No. You will fix it as is, and I assure you, I will not move.”
“This is going to be agonizing,” the man tells him.
“I can do it.” Fort doesn’t look at him, nor does he look my way. Instead, he keeps his breathing deep and stares straight ahead.
I note the concern on the healer’s face, but he does not argue. Instead, he takes a deep breath and offers Fort a piece of leather. “Bite.”
“Fort—” I start, but he shakes his head. The fear in his eyes is new, but it doesn’t take long for me to realize just why he’s refusing. I imagine his father had men hold him while he burned Fort’s thighs. And that nightmare is not one that would leave only a physical trace.
I take Fort’s good hand in mine and squeeze gently. His fingers tighten around me as the healer moves into position. “Ready?”
Fort nods.
The man jerks Fort’s arm, and a loud pop fills my ears as Fort groans and shuts his eyes tightly. He breathes heavily, in and out, sucking through the teeth currently clenched on the leather.
Then, he relaxes just slightly as the healer steps back and takes the leather from his mouth. “It will hurt for a few days, but you will regain full use of it soon.”
“Thank you,” Fort tells him.
The man dips his head in a nod then goes back over to the table he’d been working at, not speaking another word to us.
“Shall we?” Salma questions, gesturing to the door.
Fort hops down from the table, and we follow, slipping back out into the village. I study the crops they’ve grown, the way they tend and harvest what comes up from the rows of dirt so elegantly tilled.
“How do you feel?” Salma asks Fort as soon as we’ve begun walking back down the path.
“Better,” is his only response. His gaze travels around us, seeking out any potential threat.
