Kings of the North - Elizabeth Moon [211]
Burek had no memory of the previous days when he woke to find the surgeon rewrapping the splints.
“You’ll do,” the surgeon said. “Swelling’s well down, and your hand’s still warm. I expect it hurts some.”
“Not that much,” Burek said. His mouth felt furry and tasted horrible; the surgeon’s assistant lifted his shoulders and held a cup to his lips. Burek swallowed: clean water with just a hint of mint.
“Wiggle your fingers,” the surgeon said. Burek did so, and pain wrapped his arm. He clenched his jaw against the pain. “Um,” the surgeon said, in a tone that meant something, though Burek didn’t know what. “Still a lot of muscle damage. You’ll need to continue with the infusion. And it’s time you got yourself to the jacks, though you’ll need some help. Get him up, Jens, but slowly—he might faint.”
He was not going to faint. He told himself that, though his head spun when he first sat all the way up, his feet on the rug beside his bed. But with help, he did make it to the jacks and back to the bed, despite the sensation of falling sideways because of the weight of his splinted arm.
“Where are my men?” he asked, when he was back down.
“Gone to tell the others you won’t be coming for a while,” the surgeon said. “They left two days ago. The Count’s offered you a place in Cortes Andres until you’re fully recovered, once you can be moved. You’re not going to risk that arm for six hands of days at least.”
“I can’t lie in bed six hands of days!”
“Of course not. But you must be down most of the time until I’m sure of that arm. You came close to losing it; I’m not letting your pride make it go bad again.”
Burek tried to sit up again, but could not; the surgeon smiled.
“You’ll be stronger each day if you do what I tell you. The herbal infusion is strengthening your blood; you must eat what I prescribe, and exercise exactly as I say, if you want the full use of that arm later—if it’s possible, I mean.” The surgeon paused. “It might not be, though the Count did a good job with that first splint. Do not blame him if it is not perfect.”
“I wouldn’t,” Burek said. “Why would I?”
The surgeon pursed his lips. “I heard things—that he had once had a grudge against you. If so, you might think he took ill care on purpose.”
“No,” Burek said. “I had no quarrel with the Count and have none now. It is true he did not like me, but that’s his business.”
“He likes you now,” the surgeon said. “It is not merely that he credits you with saving his life, but something else, which he has not shared with me—or anyone that I know of, though I could read it in his face and voice. It is almost as if he discovered a member of the family.”
“I am not that,” Burek said, looking away.
“I didn’t suppose you were,” the surgeon said. “But some men mellow in age, and others harden; I think now he’s mellowed. Travel does that for some.”
In another hand of days, Burek was able to come to the table for meals, where he found eating one-handed more difficult than he expected. Meddthal, the Count’s second son and fort commander, was a lean, tough-looking man in his mid-forties. He treated Burek with courtesy, often eating his meals at the same time and asking intelligent questions about mercenary service without seeming to pry.
“My father said you’d served with Golden Company as well as the Duke’s … did you like serving under a woman?
“Aesil M’dierra? It made no difference to me; by her reputation she’s as skilled a commander—and as honorable—as Phelan or Halveric.”
“I met Phelan, in Siniava’s War,” Meddthal said. “I’m not surprised he became a king, though my father was. I wonder how his successor will do with his lands.”
“Very well, I think,” Burek said. “Certainly the troops seem happy with him. And Captain Selfer—he was one of Phelan’s squires.”
“Glad to hear it,” Meddthal said, “since it seems we’re going to be seeing another miserable war. Damn these ambitious men! Why can’t they be content to rule their own lands well? There’s more than enough work for a lifetime in that, if you do it right.” He shook his head. “Though it would be hard luck on