Dark Matters_ Ghost Dance (Book 2) - Christie Golden [30]
He obeyed her gentle command, and when he woke again, the light in the cottage was different: softer, dimmer. He could still smell the sweet scent of the bedding, but there was another smell that he couldn't quite place. He felt cool, and much stronger. His body was damp.
"Your fever finally broke," said Soliss, moving into the chair beside Chakotay's bed. "Would that I could say the same for your companion. Are you in any pain?"
Chakotay considered. His hand went to his abdomen, touched the bandages there. "It still hurts a little," he said, reluctant to complain after he had so clearly been well taken care of, but realizing the importance of telling his doctor-his healer, at any rate-everything. "It's sharp and localized, though."
"Good. I can't take away all the pain all at once, though it is my understanding that some of the doctors among the Alilann can."
Chakotay thought of the Doctor, and said nothing.
"But at least we stopped the rotting before it went any further. Just a nice, clean wound now. You're strong and healthy, you should be fine. Are you hungry?"
The word seemed to trigger something inside Chakotay. It was as if it had flipped a switch. He had
been so sick that his body was concentrating on healing itself, not on acquiring nourishment, but once Soliss had suggested the idea of eating, it seemed like the finest thought hi the world.
"Starving," he confessed.
Soliss smiled. "I thought you might be."
As he rose and went to the cook fire in the center of the single-room cottage, Chakotay realized what the other smell was. It was food, though of what type he was not sure, and his hunger flared again. He propped himself up on an elbow, realizing that he was naked beneath the blankets. He hoped that Soliss had been the one to tend him and that the radiant Yurula had been called in only after the wounds had been cleaned. Chakotay chuckled to himself. If he was able to worry about who had seen him nude, then he was definitely feeling better.
His mirth faded as he gazed across the room at the occupant of the other pallet. Tom still looked bad. He moved restlessly in his sleep, and his face was flushed. Now and then he muttered something.
"You said Tom wasn't healing as well as I," said Chakotay.
Soliss was ladling soup from a hanging pot into a bowl. "No, he isn't I've done everything I can, but his injuries were far worse than yours." Suddenly Soliss frowned. "That cursed Ordeal. I hate it, I hate it."
The crude wooden door opened and Yurula entered. "Shame on you, Soliss!" she cried. "I could hear you from several steps away. Would you have us banished?"
"Apologies, beloved," said Soliss, though he didn't
look particularly apologetic. "It is only-You know that if I had been permitted to attend to them once they were brought here, they would be well on their way to health now, both of them. The Ordeal-"
"Is part of what makes us who we are,, as surely as turning our faces up to the sky and eating the fruit of the good soil," said Yurula. Her face softened. "I love you for your heart, Soliss. But perhaps it is just a little too soft."
She turned and smiled at Chakotay. "You look much better than the last time I tended you. How do you feel?"
"As much improved as I look, I imagine," Chakotay replied. "Ready to eat some of that delicious-smelling soup." She went to him, checking his pulse and feeling his forehead. At one point, to better gauge the temperature, she pressed her cheek to his forehead. Chakotay breathed in the scent of herbs and her own sweet, musky fragrance. Yes, he was definitely feeling better.
A thought occurred to him. He looked around for his clothing and saw no trace of it, nor of their instruments.
"We can understand each other," he said suddenly. "My communicator-"
"There is no need for