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He levered himself up on one elbow, bracing for agony that never came. “Erostis. Damn, it's good to hear your voice, man.”
“Same, my lord, but it would be nice to see you too instead of stumbling around this room in the dark.”
His complaint conjured a crackle and the spreading glow of light from one corner of the chamber, revealing Anhuset seated next to a now-lit brazier. Serovek couldn't tell where her gaze rested by sight, but he felt its weight. “Anhuset.”
She offered a brief nod. “Margrave. Welcome back.” She unfolded her tall frame from the bench to help the monk accompanying Erostis place a pitcher and goblets on a nearby table.
Had she watched over him while he slept? The idea warmed him more than the brazier ever could.
Erostis limped to his bedside and Serovek frowned at the sight of his liegeman swathed in bandages on one side of his body from shoulder to hip. He grasped Erostis's forearm and gave it a squeeze. “The gods were kind. I feared you were a dead man.”
“I wondered the same about you.” Erostis scrubbed his face with one hand. “Kind to a point. Klanek took arrows. The monks tried to save him but to no avail.” His face, haggard by injury and convalescence, became even more so with sorrow.
Grief settled on Serovek, a suffocating blanket. He'd lost men before in battles and raids, each death a wound that healed and scarred. He'd buried or burned most of them and delivered the news to the families himself when he could. A grim duty but one he never shirked if he could help it. “The monks have his body here?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“We'll bring him to his family when we return home.”
“He was a decent sort, my lord. If you don't mind, I'd like to be the one to tell his wife. We grew up together in the same village. I think it'll be easier if she hears it from me.”
That small bit of knowledge made Klanek's death even sadder. Soldiers serving at High Salure came from all parts of the Beladine kingdom, but most were local, sent from the surrounding towns and villages High Salure protected. Many of them were friends from childhood or even related to each other. Those bonds only strengthened their loyalty to Serovek and High Salure but also made the loss of each man harder to bear. Brother losing brother in battle, friend burying friend.
He sighed. “I think I met her once. We fetched Klanek to ride with us while we retrieved stolen cattle. She was chasing him around the chicken coop with a rolling pin or maybe it was a cleaver.” He smiled at the memory of the ridiculous scene
Erostis grinned, blinking hard to hide tears. “That's Lederza all right. Klanek probably ate the pie or pastry she'd made and was saving for supper.”
Both men chuckled, and Serovek caught the faintest chuff of amusement from the corner of the room where Anhuset stood listening. He suspected she'd like Lederza, should the two ever meet.
“If that's your wish, I'm happy to oblige,” he told Erostis. “News like that is always better coming from a friend, though if you wish for me to accompany you, I will.”
He wasn't surprised or offended when the other man declined. As margrave and ruler in his own right of the Beladine hinterlands bordering Bast-Haradis, he was treated with the same deference by the people living there. Klanek's wife would accept his condolences with a stiff, dry-eyed formality and die a little inside with every word he spoke. With Erostis, she could embrace that grief and weep on the shoulder of someone she knew in that awful moment.
The door opened once more, and this time he saw in detail a monk enter, bearing a tray containing covered platters wafting the delectable scent of food to his nostrils. His belly rumbled a greeting. The newest visiting monk scowled at Erostis.
“You're not supposed to be out of bed, Erostis. This is the second time I'll have to chase you back to your room.”
Erostis returned the scowl. “If I have to lay in that bed any longer, I'll grow roots.” He emphasized his frustration by stretching his arm in a sweeping gesture and yelped in pain for the effort.
The monk's expression lacked any sympathy, though he was gentle in helping Erostis lower his arm. “I believe I've proven my point.” He ushered him to the door pausing to ask Serovek “By your leave, Lord Pangion?”
Serovek waved a hand to send them off. He'd winced when Erostis extend his bandaged arm, imagining a tear in the stitched wounds and the scream of torn muscle barely beginning to heal. “Get your rest, man!” he called out as the determined monk nudged Erostis into the hallway. “We'll talk again when we're both feeling better.”
Erostis waved and disappeared with his escort. The second monk soon followed, closing the door behind him. The room's light dimmed to a tenebrous murk with only the crackling brazier and Anhuset's glowing yellow gaze to relieve it.
She circled the table where the dishes the monks brought had been set. The scents filling the room made Serovek's mouth water, and he chuckled at Anhuset's wary inspection of the offerings. “I don't think any of it's still alive, Anhuset, and I doubt the Nazim feast on scarpatine pie the way the Kai do.”
“True,” she agreed, cautiously lifting the towel off one plate with the tips of her claws, nostrils flared to catch any warning odors. “But there might be one of those vile potato maggot things lying in wait under these cloths.”
He grinned, his joy at finding her here, at bantering with her, at still being alive to do so, chased back his sorrow over Klanek's death. The fact he wasn't in pain helped as well. “I'm happy to eat your share if there is.”
“No one can accuse you of lacking heroism,” she said wryly and continued with her inspection.
“And here I thought I had to kill a warlord to garner your admiration.”
She glanced askance at him, her firefly gaze a dance of golden luminescence that darkened and lightened according to her emotions and even the play of light made by the brazier. “It helps,” she said. “Though I find human suppers more challenging adversaries.”
He laughed outright, surprised that it only brought a deeper ache to his fatigued body instead of the sharp agony he expected. The monks must have worked their magic on him while he was unconscious. Had Anhuset stayed and kept watch while they did? He hoped so. “I'm glad you're here, Anhuset.”
