And this was no cave. As her eyes adjusted, Amyu saw that the opening looked more like a hall of the castle, only wider and taller. More of a passage, not a cave. She took a step further in, but the deep shadows didn’t let her see more.
The bundle in the cave shifted.
Amyu jumped, her dagger out in an instant. A creature had gotten tangled and twisted in the cloth.
She took a few steps closer.
A moan, and more movement made it clear it wasn’t a creature. It was a human, a man. The cloth was twisted around him, holding his arms close to his body. The man struggled weakly against the restraint.
“Wait, wait, don’t move.” Amyu said as she knelt next to him. “I’ll help.”
A faint moan was the only response.
She hesitated, unsure as to what to do. Cut the cloth? Try to unwind him?
But the man was tightly wrapped, and heavy enough she’d never be able to untwist the cloth without his aid.
Amyu grasped the cloth at the top of his head, pulling it up and away. She carefully inserted the tip of her dagger, and slit the cloth down slowly.
Black hair, brown skin was revealed as the cloth parted.
The man tossed his head. Fearing to hurt him, Amyu dropped the dagger and tore the cloth to free his face. Her heart froze in her chest.
She knew this man.
Joden?
Joden of the Hawk?
Amyu rocked back on her heels, jerking her hands away.
Joden of the Hawk.
It wasn’t possible, and yet here he was. He was thin, his lips cracked and dry. It was Joden, but his face… he was clearly exhausted, starved, and unaware.
Amyu sucked in a hard breath in amazement and wonder.
She’d met Joden for the first time when he’d stood before the Council of Elders. He’d been so brave, so strong, defying Antas of the Boar and explaining his truths to the Council. For the first time, she had seen a new kind of courage, one that had nothing to do with the weapon in a warrior’s hands. Joden had radiated power through his words and his truth.
Seeing that in him had given her the courage to defy her Elders and their command to kill the Warprize. Amyu had faked the attack and protected the Warprize with her own body as the tent around them erupted in chaos and violence.
But how had Joden come here? Last she’d known he was on the Plains, with Simus of the Hawk, about to undergo Singer Trials.
Joden’s mouth moved, bringing Amyu back to the moment. The sound was faint, and there were no words. He was singing.
“Joden?” Amyu reached out to cup his cheek.
Cold. Stone-cold. Thin, and his normally rich brown skin was pale. His lips were parched and dry, his eyes closed.
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.
Finally, she stripped down, put her weapons within easy reach, and climbed into the nest, covering both of them with her remaining blanket.
She put his cold hands crossed on his chest, and then covered his body with hers. She shivered at the touch of his frigid skin, but she pressed in tighter, willing her body heat into him.
There was no way to figure how long it would take to warm him. A fire wouldn’t do much good in this cavernous space, but she’d see to that later. For now, this was her best choice.
His breathing was soft against her neck, and his heart beat was steady in her ear. She’d have answers when he woke.
How in the name of all the elements had he come here? Amyu frowned as she shifted a bit, trying to get more comfortable. How could he have climbed the mountain ahead of her, leaving no trail? Even if he had, where was his gear and supplies? And the cloth? Where had that come from?
Amyu let out a slow breath, and tried to rein in her impatience. Answers would come, once Joden woke.
She’d every intention of keeping watch, alert and awake. But the climb had been long and the blankets were warm. As Joden warmed beneath her, her eyelids kept closing… closing…
The call of a night-flyer roused her at dusk.
Joden was now on his side, wrapped around her warmth, his head cradled on her breasts. He was warm, his arms lax. His breathing was strong and regular.