Chapter 21 The Wrong Line #2
Ronen opened his mouth, but I was easing to my feet and turned to face her. “I want to train,” I said, which was true. Though I hadn’t shaken my uneasiness that I was being equipped with the wrong tools. “Once I’m on a mission, I’ll use what I know in whatever way suits me—”
“Not if it kills you first. Or injures you so badly you have ongoing weakness. Even the dragon’s healing can’t bring dead tissue back to life, Bren. If you break your body, you will suffer for it.”
Ronen raised his hands, and gave me a look to remain quiet.
“We’ll discuss this later. It was time to finish up anyway. Squad! You’re done for tonight. Don’t forget formations again on Thirdday.”
Everyone groaned, but most of them hadn’t dismounted, so they just urged their dragons back into the sky and towards the Keep. But Ronen, Gil, and Voski all stayed on the ground.
While Ronen spoke quietly to the other two, Terra squatted at my feet and began wrapping my knee again—over my leathers.
“It was always a risk with this kind of work,” she muttered. “If the dragons are going to start Choosing women, we need to drum it into their thick skulls that things must change.”
I sighed and shrugged, too tired to argue anymore.
But watching her made my chest ache. She was so efficient and knowledgeable, her hands moving quickly.
No hesitation. She got the bandage tied off, then palpated my knee again.
I tried to stifle the wince, but she didn’t even look up, just nodded to herself, then stood to meet eyes with Ronen.
“No more training for her today—or tomorrow if you can help it. She’ll heal if the body is given time. But if she keeps taking these blows, it’ll go wrong.”
Ronen nodded. “We don’t train again until Thirdday. I’ll have her signed off patrol tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
“What?! No! That’s my job!” I protested.
“Better to miss a shift, than weeks of work. A broken rib is unsafe for battle flight. Trust me,” Ronen said firmly. “And besides, you need to replace your safety strap and make sure the new leather is broken in—that’s an order.”
He turned, Gil following him and I stared at his back, frustrated and heart sinking. But Terra didn’t even give me a second.
“I need to clean that rib, and treat it again,” she said firmly. “You’ve given it another blow. I need to make sure it hasn’t cracked.”
I turned to argue with her, pissed off that she’d been so insistent with Ronen. He wouldn’t have noticed if I’d just gotten to my feet without her there. But then I looked at her. Really looked.
Her dark blonde hair was pulled back in a severe braid.
Her shirt and trousers well-fitted and functional.
She stood there, arms folded, with every ounce of the confidence and surety of the Furyknight men.
She knew her job and did it—well. Everyone knew it.
Even my brothers, who tried to avoid medic assistance for reasons I couldn’t understand, respected her and didn’t argue.
I frowned.
“You’re a woman in a man’s world, too.” I blurted.
She nodded once, tightly. “That’s why I understand what you need—which isn’t to try and be one of them.”
“You’re a battle medic, right? But you’re not on a dragon. How do you keep up with them?”
“The healers and our assistants who aren’t Furyknights are transported on dragons, just like any other non-Furyknight staff.
Though most of them are men. When we hit the battlefield, I can’t run as far, or as long as the men.
Over shorter distances, I keep up with them fine.
But over weeks and multiple battles? It’s a challenge, Bren.
Not insurmountable, but a challenge. I have to adjust my eating and sleeping—I need more sleep than the men, though find it harder to get my body to rest. I also eat different foods.
They can afford to weigh their bodies down.
I have to be far more careful to make sure I’m taking in meat and vegetables and fruit—lighter meals, but more often.
I carry dried snacks, and drink more water.
I’ve learned to adjust, and I work as hard and as long as they do.
So, they respect me and let me do the things my body needs.
But that’s exactly my point! You should be helped to adjust, rather than just left to sink or swim. ”
I was about to ask her which foods and where she got them—perhaps I could start carrying some in my pouches. But, of course, that was the moment, the great whomph of dragon wings sounded overhead, and we all looked up to see Kgosi back-flapping, coming in to land.
‘Akhane! Did you call him?’
‘He is my mate, Little Flame,’ she said with a hint of disapproval in her tone. ‘And Donavyn is yours. Of course they should be called when there are problems. My Primarch orders it.’
‘But…’ I trailed off as I realized there was no point arguing. Akhane wouldn’t defy an order from Kgosi, even for me.
I wanted to sink into my boots with embarrassment when Donavyn slid down the mounting strap to the ground, catching eyes with me, then striding first to Ronen for a brief exchange, before marching across the grass towards us.
I loved seeing him again. Wished we were alone so I could open my arms and pull him in the moment he appeared. Watching him stride across the ground, his body thick and vital, broad shoulders narrowing through his chest to his waist, and every muscle hugged by leather, made my mouth dry.
But then I felt Terra’s eyes on me and turned to find her staring, her brows pinching over her nose.
I had to keep my tongue in my mouth.
I cleared my throat and straightened my jacket. “Thank you for your help. I’m fine, I just—”
“You aren’t fine, Bren,” she said quietly, glancing toward Donavyn. “And I’ll keep telling them that until someone listens.”