Chapter 5 #3
‘From my uncle’s steading,’ Erann said quietly to himself. The look on his face alerted Sereh he wasn’t happy. She waited for him to say more. Instead, he tried to push himself up. His elbows buckled under his weight. He crashed back down to the hard cave floor with a thump.
‘Are you all right, Erann?’ Sereh winced in sympathy. He must be more severely affected by his exposure to the cold than she thought. How long had he been on the glacier’s surface?
‘I think I’m well, thanks. I thought it would be nice to sit up, but I’ve changed my mind.
I’m going to lie here and wait while you brew some tea.
’ He gave a shaky laugh. Sereh wondered what had happened to him.
She was unsure how much to ask. She really didn’t know him well any more.
Then again, she didn’t want him asking her too many prying questions either.
She doubted he’d turn her in, but she no longer knew where his loyalties lay, not now his sister was Rankil’s wife.
She busied herself making a bittersweet tea from the supplies in his backpack, steeping the herbs in the two cups.
She noticed how well provisioned he was.
As she went to hand him the cup, her eyes caught on something tightly gripped in his hand.
A journal. He must have had it with him on the glacier.
It was a miracle he hadn’t let go of it after Arrow’s antics in dragging him to the cave.
Her silence drew Erann’s attention to her interest. Hastily, he forced the journal under the cloak without offering an explanation.
Then warily, he accepted the tea she offered him.
Unease rippled down her spine. It appeared Erann had his own secrets.
More carefully, Erann lifted himself up on one elbow, with a wince, and drank the liquid. With a contented sigh, he settled back in the makeshift bed, looking at Sereh.
‘That was exactly what I needed, thank you.’ His voice already sounded stronger.
‘I’ve not tasted that for some time,’ she agreed. It was a delicious blend, but too expensive for Rankil to share with his servants. Unable to curb her curiosity, she persisted, ‘How long do you think you’d been exposed for?’
‘Long enough, but not so long that I’m dead,’ he evaded, before endeavouring to sound more conciliatory. ‘You have my sincere thanks for saving me. You and Arrow.’
‘Do you have any other food?’ She changed the conversation quickly. She couldn’t blame him for not telling her the whole truth, whatever it was. It wasn’t like she was being open with him herself.
‘There should be enough of some of last rotation’s harvest left in my pack for both of us,’ he said after a moment.
‘I’ll see what I can find,’ Sereh replied.
She turned to his backpack. Now, with all his spare clothing removed, she could see even more. Her hand closed on a couple of wrinkly turnips and some dried meat. She might be able to make a thin soup with it. She’d nothing left in her backpack aside from a few peat cakes.
She glanced at Erann out of the corner of her eye. He wasn’t even looking at her, his attention fixed on some distant memory.
She sighed again. She didn’t remember him being so guarded.
In her memories, he was a happy boy, always quick to laugh.
She’d watched him on those occasions when the Quarter Council was in session and had always marvelled at how well he seemed to get on with everyone.
He’d been very like his father, with an effortless grace for making conversation, no matter what the other person’s status.
Jarl Ramon had presided over the Quarter Council with humour and warmth, but had possessed a strong enough will to enforce his decisions if the need arose.
Her father had always thought Ramon a good jarl.
Sereh remembered being envious of Erann’s easy-going nature.
She’d felt out of place and tongue-tied when anyone spoke to her.
Her father had been the quarter scribe, and as such, she’d had no choice but to attend the Quarter Council meetings.
The noise and presence of so many people was overwhelming.
Erann had always done his best to include her.
She was an only child, a rare thing in their society, and hadn’t always known how to join in or play games with the other children.
At home there’d been no need to share, and her mother and father had always had time for her.
But Erann seemed to understand her awkwardness.
He’d always made sure she was included by the other, more boisterous children.
She’d been devastated when his father had been sent into exile as the only means of proving his innocence against the charges levelled against him by Rankil and his supporters.
With the proof dependent only on the words of others, which Ramon had contested, the only resolution had been trial by exile.
But it wasn’t long before her grief for him was overshadowed by her own loss.
Throughout the last eight rotations, she’d often thought of how Erann’s life had been forever changed, just like hers, and both of them had only Rankil to blame for those changes.