"I will stay with Maerad," Silvia said finally. "It's nearly dawn, and you both look pitiful." She poured the men glasses of Laradhel from the glass bottle, emptying what was left, and took a seat near Maerad. She said nothing more. Cadvan drank his share of the liquor quickly and rubbed his face - dark circles had formed under his blue eyes, and his skin looked and felt grey with exhaustion. The drink helped, offering his body a much needed rush of energy that swelled in his veins; gave him just enough to refuse Silvia's choice. "I will keep watch tonight. Go and rest," he insisted. "It is something I shall not find tonight."
"He's as stubborn as a mule." Malgorn sighed, scratching the stubble on his chin. "He wouldn't leave even if he wanted to. It's that same stubbornness I mentioned earlier."
"Cadvan - you are worrying yourself to death! Please, I'll stay with her. You need sleep to collect your thoughts," said Silvia. The woman was clearly worried about him.
Unable to pry himself from Maerad's side, he shook his head. "I'll be fine," he assured. "I promise."
Silvia nodded reluctantly, taking Cadvan's hand. "There is more Laradhel in the storeroom. If you need anything else, anything at all, Malgorn and I will be down the hall in our room. You know where to find us." Together, she and Malgorn exited the room hesitantly, leaving Cadvan to ponder the situation.
A few hours later found Cadvan frowning into the blazing fire. He glanced at Maerad, who had lain quiet on the sofa, undisturbed, her quiet breathing something he had concentrated on to keep himself awake. One leg was curled underneath her lithe body while the other remained outstretched on the bulky cushions. Much to his surprise, she had remained asleep after downing the third dose of Laradhel, an unusual occurrence given the many times she had used it while traveling with him.
Hearing a mumble of protest roused him from speculation. "I'm so cold." Maerad's voice shook.
Cadvan crossed the room in long strides, doling more wood into the fireplace to quench its insatiable hunger. As he drew away, he found another thick blanket, set aside for him, and gave it to her. To his chagrin, he could still see the coldness of her face without even touching it; she still wasn't warming up fast enough.
"It is all I have," he whispered apologetically. "Will you be alright?"
Maerad grew quiet as her eyes fluttered open. "I think so." She groaned, transferring her weight, and taking it as a cue, he helped her sit up.
"Drink some more of this," he urged. He held up a mug of Laradhel.
She parted her lips and drank it gratefully, nearly choking when the intense moisture hit her dry mouth. "All I want to do is sleep," she admitted and stared away from him. "I'm so tired."
"You're exhausted. Sleep as long as you wish; no one will bother you. You have my word."
Maerad frowned at his comment. "Isn't it easy to promise something?" Her thoughts drifted to the man's harsh voice and his rough breathing. Her stomach heaved in rebuke. Cadvan was capable of the same thing.
He blinked at her response. "For some it is, but I give no word I cannot keep. You know that, Maerad."
"Is that so true?" she then asked, wishing him to leave her alone. She wanted it more than anything. "For didn't you once promise to love someone, only to murder them?" Tears began to well in her eyes. Why had she lashed out at her only friend, someone who cared for her?
He sat resolute against her attack, his jaw clenching only briefly as he sought for words. "Of all the people who insist on indulging in my dark past, why must you?" he asked. She could see the hurt in his eyes. "Have I wronged you?"
Maerad looked away in shame. She wished she hadn't hurt him. The Light knew he was the only one she couldn't bear to live without, but regardless of the guilt, she couldn't take the words back. They were suspended over her head, adding to the already heavy burden within her heart.
Cadvan bit his tongue and excused himself. "I'll be back shortly."
She had expected that reaction; she knew he would leave. But it did not worry her, for he would return to guard her after she fell back asleep. In the ghost of his presence, she whispered an apology before drifting off, cursing herself for treating him so badly.
The following morning, Maerad ate little breakfast in spite of Silvia's encouragement. Food would not solve the unrest in her soul. Nothing would. "You must eat, Maerad." Silvia handed her a bread roll. "You look as if you haven't eaten in months!"
Maerad refused. "I'm fine."
"Maerad, you are nothing but skin and bones. Eat something," Cadvan said. Had it not been for the genuine concern in his vocie, she would have rebuffed his attempt. She grabbed the bun and picked at it much to Silvia's enjoyment.
"I suppose Cadvan just has the right way of saying things," Malgorn shrugged. "I wouldn't take it too personal, love." He smiled at Silvia. Maerad rolled her eyes. Cadvan's always right.
"I should head to the infirmary." Maerad sighed and dropped the half eaten food onto her plate. "Though how I am supposed to do that escapes me."
"I'll accompany you." A momentary twinge of uneasiness traveled through her body as Cadvan helped her stand. It lessened somewhat when he drew away. "Silvia found you a new cloak, much heavier than the one you had been wearing." He wrapped it around her shoulders, and shut the clasp in the front. Maerad smiled slightly; it was much warmer, and she enjoyed the clean feeling that it carried. She braced herself when Cadvan opened the door. "Ready?" he asked.
"As much as I will be," she replied.
The storm had grown placid in the wee hours of the night. In its wake was a blanket of crisp snow. Maerad shuddered at the wind tickling her face. It brought back many troubles of the previous night that she did not enjoy. Cadvan had tried to distract her though, pursuing conversations about ancient lore, but she remained silent as they crossed the square. He brought her into the house across the street. "It will take longer," he told her, "but at least we won't be outside."
o-0-o
The Healing Houses were alive with people bustling about. Maerad was somewhat shocked by the onslaught of questioning, especially from strangers; she had only just arrived. "We've heard about your accident. Thank the Light you haven't been permanently hurt." Others were not so courteous. Many glared at her from across the room, whispering to one another. "All this fuss about her falling off a horse doesn't make sense,"she overheard an elderly woman say. She tried to ignore the gossip, gripping Cadvan's arm tighter as they approached a series of side doors. Cadvan ushered her through one of them, and crossed his arms.
"Bards are an odd bunch - I can't believe word of your arrival has traveled so fast." In another circumstance, Maerad would've laughed, for what he said was true, but she didn't want her quiet retreat to be interrupted. She had heard enough conversation on the way.
The Healer slowly opened the door and smiled. "Feeling a bit better?"
Maerad lied. "Yes." The unconvinced look that crossed Cadvan's face barely affected her resolve.
"That's an improvement." He took several tools from a nearby drawer and placed them on a tray. "Did she sleep at all?"
"Yes, much more than I had expected," Cadvan answered.
For a few seconds, both Bards stopped and examined her dispassionately, as if she were a piece of sculpture. Maerad shifted uncomfortably under their gazes. Cadvan released her from the unwelcome attention by stepping forward and taking her hand, squeezing it in encouragement.
"Let's begin then, shall we?" Nendir asked.
Maerad pulled her hand from Cadvan's. She didn't want him to bear witness to her examination.
"I'll be waiting outside," he said, giving her a faint, comforting smile before stepping out.
Leaning back onto the table, Maerad felt ashamed. That she had come to be in yet another position of vulnerability so quickly left her incredulous. She began to shake at the touch of his cold hands, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She ignored the probing instruments in a vague effort to conceal her humiliation. She was not here; this moment was not real.
Falling to the ground, she felt something in her ankle snap. The wood floor was as unforgiving as the man who had forced them together.
"Get up!" he demanded, pulling her hair; she coughed hard, her lungs heaving in objection to his rough treatment. "Now…" he he said, grinning, "Kneel."
"Please," she sobbed, waking into reality once more. "I can't do this."
The doctor turned to face her. "I've completed your exam." He eyed her with suspicion. "I have a few questions for you."
Shaking her head, Maerad covered herself. "I don't feel like answering anything," she confessed. Her lips were trembling.
"I'm afraid if you don't answer, I must ask Cadvan," he disclosed, waiting for a response. Maerad thought it to be a trick, but being completely ignorant of Bardic culture, she didn't want to take the risk.
Maerad stiffened. "I fell off my horse."
Nendir studied her a few moments. "How?"
"What do you mean how?" she asked irritably. "The storm was furious..I- I couldn't see!"
"Then why do you have so many bruises?" he continued to prod. "You certainly don't act like you just fell off your horse."
Stunned by what the man might know, she bowed her head in displeasure. She wouldn't admit the truth, so she didn't respond.
"I'll leave you here while I go talk with Cadvan." The man stood, and left, giving her privacy. Tears prickled in her eyes, but she fought them back. She was much too stubborn to cry- too many people would see her reddened eyes. If it hadn't been for her friends, she wouldn't have even gone to the Healer. It was just as easy to stay in the Bardhouse and rest.
