The Jewel of Turmish - Mel Odom [102]
He lay silent for a moment and prayed, then he meditated and made sure his body was loose and ready to deal with whatever the day offered. The rain that streamed down outside the overhang where he'd fashioned a serviceable lean-to spattered against the ground, creating a lull of background noise. The overhang was on slightly higher ground, so there was no worry about water soaking their sleeping area.
Haarn rose, feeling twinges and aches that bit bone-deep. He'd used his healing powers to aid his father and had tended to his own wounds as best he could with what herbs he had or could find.
His father lay at the back of the overhang near the fire, draped in his own cloak and Haarn's.
Druz had volunteered the blanket from her own kit, recovered after the battle in the marshy glade, but Haarn had known she wouldn't be comfortable in the night without it. The storm had brought considerable chill to the evening hours.
"You're awake," Druz said from her place sitting beside his father.
She had her strung bow across her knees and her long sword standing against the back of the overhang beside her.
Haarn crossed the shelter to his father's side. "He's slept well," Druz said.
Tenderly, Haarn lifted the poultices from bis father's wounds and examined them. Blackened, crusty scabs covered all of the burned areas, and with the extra healing Haarn provided through his magic there probably wouldn't even be any scars left. The healing potion had done remarkable work on Ettrian, possibly even saving his i life, though Haarn believed Silvanus was more responsible for that.
After getting Ettrian settled as comfortably as possible I a day and a half before, satisfied that his father's life wasn't in any immediate danger, Haarn had seen to arranging the shelter. Druz had helped, and she'd tried to get him to rest, but he couldn't. Borran Kiosk's name kept echoing through bis head.
Satisfied with the progress Ettrian was making, Haarn sat down beside him. He gazed at his father's stern face and felt the old confusion gnaw his empty stomach. There were pleasant memories from when he'd been small, from those times his mother had stayed with them deep in the forest, but those had quickly passed when his mother rode away. Haarn had been no older than four or five. After that, his mother's visits had come less and less frequently, lasting only days instead of tendays, then finally-the last time nearly fifteen years past-only hours. His father had grown sadder and angrier, and with his mother's absence Haarn had grown aware of his father's turning away from him as well, as if he was to blame for her leaving.
Haarn reached out and slapped Broadfoot on the haunch. Covered in herbal poultices that made the animal stench even stronger in the lean-to's enclosed space, the bear snuffled irritably, raised his wide head for a moment, then put his head back down and slept.
Sleep would be best, Haarn knew, but nervous energy and the need to be up and moving around filled him. He'd always felt that way around his father as a young man, and even more so since he'd become increasingly independent.
"Borran Kiosk is a fable," Druz said. "Why is your father here really?"
Haarn looked at her and said, "After you saw that skeleton claw up from the ground, after you saw that red jewel in its chest and the damage it did to all of us, you want to believe that Borran Kiosk is some kind of old wives' tale?"
A thoughtful expression filled Druz's face. She sucked in one cheek as she regarded him.
"My father," Haarn said, glancing at him, "is not a man to pass on gossip. He sought me out to bring me the news the Emerald Enclave had sent him."
"From Ilighdn? That's a long way to send a message."
"My father is an important man," Haarn said. "He's not one of the Elder Circle but his voice carries weight in the