I don't move. The woman, Elisota – she thrusts her name at me as if expecting mine in return – comes back with candles, brings some food. Puts rags on Sansa's brow, and has a good squint at me. Maybe I should take a look at you and all, she says. I say leave me be, woman, I can look after myself and she says that's as maybe but you're holding your shoulder low. She helps me get my armour off and I eye her as she gestures for my shirt and she says oh I've seen plenty in my time, big man, you won't surprise me. And it's true, the wound's looking angry as a dragon, and she fetches more water and I sit there, eyes on Sansa, thinking well here we are little bird, in a chamber with half our clothes off. Elisota comes back and scrubs at it like it's a stain on the wall and puts on a poultice and wraps me up tight. She's trying to get the truth from me all the while – she doesn't seem to know either of us so I spin her a story. I give Sansa's name as Fira. First thing that comes into my head.
Sansa sleeps for a day, and more. I take a candle over to her in the night and she looks like a bloody corpse, fucking terrifies me. But I see her chest rising, and falling, just enough. Heweg brings me wine - a man after my own heart even if he seems to be fucking mute. I don't sleep. What if she dies? What would it all have been for? Then I think shut up you bloody fool, you got her out, didn't you? What did you bloody expect? And I know the answer and I won't look it in the face and just sit there, the damned goats stuttering like raving madmen.
She starts her dreaming again, and I think, maybe she'll be alright. It's like she's under a maegi's hand, flicking her head, fingers twitching. She shouts and mumbles, tangled words tumbling out of her, and I hear Bran and never go there and she wasn't lying. Later she says Sandor please stay here and I say I'm not going anywhere little bird, but she doesn't hear me.
Elisota has been as cool as anything but I see her face change after the second night, brightening. She says the fever's broken I reckon and though I can't see much difference I take her at her word.
She's with us when Sansa starts murmuring, like a dove's come to roost, and opens her eyes. I jump up and practically crack my skull open on the ceiling. Her eyes have lost that seaweed look, and she begins to turn her head, finally seeing. She's alright. I duck away, feeling like my fever's broken and all.
I go to Stranger's stall. He harrumphs as if to say where the hells have you been and I whack him on the rump and feel my legs go. Must be half a day before I come to. I've been dreaming – head feels like it's been shaken about like a bloody bag of pebbles. Cave lions swatting my face and boats breaking apart and worms swarming over peaches and one of the whores I saw more than once laughing her head off at me, then covering me up with bedcloth after bedcloth 'til I can't breathe.
It's night, and I stumble inside. Elisota's got Sansa's dress on her lap and has a needle to it, yarn in mouth. Doesn't stop her jawing to me though, whilst her man's got his hands folded over her belly, round as a plum, listening. He brings out cards from his sleeve while she yaps away, and starts dealing them out to me. Fine, man, I'll play shortdrift with you, you bloody silent wonder, let's see how you speak with the cards. He keeps pouring me wine and all I'm thinking as he lays out another damned knight is – she's alright.
I wake back in the stables with a thick head and a mouthful of hay. Morning light might as well have me round the neck and be punching me in the face. I feel my coin bag. Lighter. That sly bastard. I walk around, get a bellyful of air, grab a few apples for Stranger, and finally bring myself to go and see her. Been putting it off. I'm afraid, somehow, to see her.
