Water. He needed water and warmth.
Amyu tore the cloth the rest of the way down his naked body. How had he gotten so twisted and trapped in the cloth? She would need to—
Joden took a sharp quick breath, and stiffened. The next instant, he started to thrash about, his arms and legs flailing wildly, his head tossing back and forward.
“Joden,” Amyu cried, putting her hands on his shoulders, trying to hold him still. She watched in horror as the spasms continued, only to end as suddenly as they had begun.
Joden lay still now, as if dead. If he breathed, she couldn’t see it. She pressed her hand to his chest, but it was cold to her touch.
“Elements, no,” she whispered, more plea than prayer. “Not this warrior. Please, please don’t let him be dead.” Amyu swallowed hard, biting back fear and horror. Child of the Plains she maybe, but there was no one else here. If he was not dead, Joden could not be allowed to suffer. Mercy. She had to grant mercy.
She picked her dagger back up, gripped it tight to still her trembling hand.
She’d never done this before. She’d been trained, but she’d never killed anyone.
With her free hand, she reached for his right hand. His fingers were curled and cold in hers.
“Joden,” she called out. “Joden of the Hawk.”
There was no response, no change. She forced herself to reach over, to take his left hand.
“Joden,” she called again, loudly. Nothing. No flinch, no movement.
Her fear grew, but she followed her training. She reached over and grasped his left foot. “Joden of the Hawk,” and her tears started to flow down her cheeks.Elements, please—
Silence.
She sobbed, and reached for Joden’s right foot, squeezing hard, trying to remember all she’d been taught about a death strike, about avoiding the rib and piercing the—
There was a throb under her fingers.
“Joden?” Amyu blinked against her tears.
He was staring at her, and his chest moved with a breath.
Relief flooding through her, Amyu reached for his hand. His fingers moved in hers, still cold but alive. She half-sobbed, relieved and shaken.
His mouth moved in the barest of whispers. “T-t-they’re l-l-lovely,” he whispered, his half-opened eyes now focused on a spot behind her.
Amyu blinked back her tears. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, when she glanced behind there was nothing there. “What are lovely, Joden?” Amyu asked. “What do you see?”
“Airions,” Joden’s eyes fluttered closed. “H-h-horse-h-h-hawks.”
“What?” Amyu demanded sharply, but Joden’s eyes were closed and he didn’t rouse.
Which left Amyu weak with relief, frustrated, and with more questions than answers. She ground her teeth, and sat back on her heels.
She couldn’t kill him. Joden was respected, his truths honored. It wasn’t her place to make that decision. If he’d been openly wounded, or asking for mercy, that was one thing. But this was Joden of the Hawk, and she would not be the one to silence his voice. Those tremors may be a passing thing. With food, warmth, and water he’d recover. She’d get him down the mountain and take him to the Warlord.
She jerked to her feet, and made a quick search of the passage. Her eyes adjusted, she walked back as far as she could, checking for signs of animals and possible threats.
The passage ended in a sheer rock wall. There were no side passages that she could see, and no debris that might indicate it was an animal lair. Satisfied, she sheathed her dagger and returned to Joden.
He was sleeping, his chest rising and falling normally. She made a nest out of the white cloth around Joden, leaving enough room for both of them.
She filled a bowl and managed to get water into him without spilling too much. He swallowed for her, but did not awaken.
After that, Amyu shook out her blankets, and got one under him with much tugging and shifting. Thin he might be, but Joden was still a strong warrior, and almost a dead weight. It took doing, but she got the blanket under him, enough to get him off the cold stone that could seep a man’s heat away.
