Rain of Thorns #3 — Battered but not Broken

Torval woke up inside an unfamiliar room on a soft bed. A man knelt at the kettle in the fireplace on the other side of the room. The man turned when he heard the creak of the bed as Torval sat up.

“Hail friend! Glad to see you up!” He exclaimed.

Torval opened his mouth to speak but his tongue was dry and his lips stuck to his teeth. He whispered “water” as best he could, which was not very comprehensible at all, but the man at the fire recognized his need. The man left the room and after a brief moment returned with a mug and a pitcher of water.

Torval drank the water greedily, and with water running down his chin and beard he managed a quick thanks and asked “How long was I out?”

“Thirteen nights,” the man started, “you were mauled by a warg and luckily for you, your head hitting a rock when you fell knocked you out before it started to try eating you! I’ve nursed your wounds and you’ll be fine, but I suspect you’ll be sore for a while.”

“My thanks good man! I am Torval, at your service.” Torval grimaced as he shifted in the bed.

“Saeradan, at yours!” The man replied with a smirk. “All the effects and goods I found near you are in the trunk at the foot of the bed or in the wardrobe against the wall.”

Torval swung his legs around so they hung off the side of the bed.. “Have you seen or heard from my friends? Two women, near as tall as yourself. I had assisted them against an orc attack the day before you found me and they were resting in my camp. I had left them the next morning to search for some of their precious belongings. Did you by chance find a broken sword?”

The blank look on Saeradan’s face mostly said it all. “No sir, I don’t venture far from my cabin unless I am hunting. I’ve seen no one in my limited travels since you’ve been here and no one has come calling. I did however find the sword you speak of, it’s in the chest.”

Torval grunted as he made the short drop from the bed to the floor and stretched his arms and legs. “Sore indeed.” He mumbled.

He looked towards Saeradan who had moved back to tend the kettle on the fire. “Thank you my good man for saving me from the wargs. I had heard stories of them and had never seen or heard of any evidence they were in Breeland!”

“You’re welcome. Stew?” Saeradan was ladling the contents of the kettle out into a bowl.

Saeradan and Torval ate in silence. When the meal was over Torval started moving around the room again, stretching his muscles. His healing wounds and laying in a bed for nearly two weeks had made him awfully weak and stiff.

“I must leave in two days to travel south with my Kin. You may stay and recuperate as long as is needed, just make sure you lock the door if you leave after I. I have some things to attend to and will take leave. Will I see you in the morning for breakfast?”

Torval cringed at the thought of the hike back to camp. He had seen the cabin off the side of the Greenway before and he knew it would take him three hours or so to get back to camp. He let a small smile hit his face at the prospect of breakfast however.

“Yes, I think I shall remain here tonight and then head back to camp tomorrow. I have to get some supplies and need to look for my friends.”

With a smile and a nod, Saeradan left the room and Torval hopped back up into the bed and promptly fell asleep.

 

~~~

 

After a hot breakfast of fried eggs and bacon and an unpleasant hike through the forests of Breeland, Torval found himself back at his camp.

It was left much as he would always leave it. The firepit was cold and he could tell it had not been occupied in days. Eva and Ella must have left the day he was nearly killed by the warg. He was gathering some supplies from a cache hidden in a downed and hollow tree when he noticed a bit of parchment out of place, pinned to the tree his water skins hung from.

 

My Dearest Torval —
Ella and I left in search of you and my sword but have had no luck. We found the dead orcs and wargs near where I dropped the sword, but no sign of you. It is our hopes that you are alive and well.

We have searched and remained here for four days but we are forced to move on as our skill in hunting has not proved to be such that it will sustain us out here in the wild. We are setting out for Bree. If you may, please meet us there.

Sincerely
Eva Blackthorne

Torval folded the note and put it in his pocket, hoisted his packs, donned his cloak and tucked a spare wood-ax into his belt. He turned his nose to Bree, and began his second hours long trek across country.

 

 

 

Rain of Thorns previous chapters.