“True,” Jacoben smiled grimly, “at least until the page turns. And we all know that there is always another page. And with every turn of the page, new knowledge is revealed, new ideas and thoughts.”
He looked them all in the eye in turn, gauging their understanding. He was met with hope and determination.
“So, we will work and strive and keep ourselves and our own safe as best we can.” Jacoben gestured them back to their work as the main doors opened. “It’s all we can do.”
He headed back through the shelves to his desk, changing course when he saw that the Bondmaiden had returned and was awaiting him. Even as she instructed him to catalog Orval’s papers, his thoughts kept churning back to the man himself.
Lord High Baron Orval. Married, huh, that had come as a surprise. Still, he wished the new Lord High Baron and his wife well.
They were going to need it.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Amari came awake in an instant, staring into the dimness, holding her breath, waiting for the sound that had disturbed her to repeat. When it came, it wasn’t one of the babes as she expected.
It was Orval, lying in bed beside her. A swift, pained intake of breath.
“Orval?” she whispered.
“Sorry.” His voice was low and strained. “A c-cramp. Trying not to wake the babes.”
The small copper lantern they’d left burning still flickered with light. She eased out of the bedding carefully, shivering in the cold air as her toes met the icy floor. She took a moment to check the babes’ baskets, finding they still slept, then padded over to Orval’s side of the bed as quietly as she could.
Roth and Yfin had chosen to sleep down by the front door, watching over the fire and Xydell. Rosalind had taken the second floor, hiding her pallet amidst the crates and baskets.
She and Orval were on the third floor, in a room with a stout wooden door that bolted on the inside.
‘Just in case,’ Roth had said grimly.
There were two floors yet above them, but other than checking for occupants, human or otherwise, they’d left them for later.
Orval’s face was twisted in a grimace and shiny with sweat. He was holding his breath, as if he didn’t dare breathe, the pain would stop; his hands were fisted in the sheets.
“Let me see,” she said softly, easing back the blankets and gently pulling up his night clothes, enough to expose his leg but keep his privacy.
The withered leg was thin and wiry compared to the healthy leg. She put her hand just above the knee and felt the muscles, taut and hot beneath her fingers.
“Can’t get it to ease up, Orval said through gritted teeth. “It will pass, it usually does.”
“You did too much these last few days,” she murmured, starting to rub warmth into his skin below the knee.
“Not much choice,” he murmured back.
That was when she caught the look of fear in his eyes. He’d been so strong for them all. This wasn’t just about the cramps in his legs. She suspected the reality of their situation had hit him; the mental anguish amplifying the physical pain.
“It worked,” she said, rubbing down toward his feet. “We have shelter, water, fire, and food. In fact, Ussin left us with more of that than we had in your rooms.” She arched an eyebrow. “More than pease porridge.”
Orval gave a pained chuckle.
“Roth and Yfin have their weapons and Xydell seems to be coming back to us,” she reminded him.
“Do you think she is well enough, sleeping down by the fire?” Orval asked.
“Yes,” Amari sighed. “The warmth is the best thing for her now, as well as all the liquids we can get her to drink. The hearth has its own healing.” She felt a slight easing of his muscles under her touch.
“Still,” he shifted slightly in the bed, “we are still stranded, still alone, with no idea of what lies in wait for us.”
“You have met all those first requirements you told us about,” she said. “What else does theEpic of Xysonsay?”
