The Spirit Stone - Katharine Kerr [70]
Morwen followed Loddlaen almost blindly. Still carrying Evan, he took her to a small tent at the edge of the encampment and sat her down by a little fire, then put the boy down beside her.
‘Your hand could use some tending,’ Loddlaen said. ‘Look at it, blood all over the back.’
He ducked inside the tent. Morwen stared at her bleeding knuckles and wondered why they didn’t hurt. She was still shaking with rage and barely able to think, but slowly, as the berserk fury left her, the pain arrived.
‘Morri hurt,’ Evan said. ‘Poor Morri!’
‘Stupid Morri,’ Morwen said. ‘Ye gods, I don’t know what came over me!’
Loddlaen came out of the tent with a packet of herbs, a brown pottery bowl, a waterskin, and a small iron pot. He put the pot right into the coals, filled it with water, sprinkled in the herbs, then added a few more twigs to the fire.
‘We’ll let that heat up a bit,’ Loddlaen said. ‘Then you can soak your hand in it.’
‘A thousands thanks!’ Morwen said. ‘I feel like such a fool. I don’t know why you’d help me, after I’ve shamed myself in front of your whole clan.’
‘What?’ Loddlaen paused for a laugh. ‘I don’t consider you shamed. Dangerous, truly, but not shameful. I doubt if anyone else does, either. You don’t understand the Westfolk yet. Little scraps and arguments flare up all the time. Once they’ve died down, no one bothers to remember them.’
‘Truly?’
‘Truly.’ He smiled at her. ‘Well, that’s a relief, then.’
Loddlaen tested the water in the kettle by sticking his finger into it. ‘Still too cold,’ he announced. ‘Frankly, I admire you for putting that harridan in her place. Ebañy, you’re a lucky lad. You’ve got someone to stick up for you.’ His smile turned brittle. ‘I didn’t, when the little beasts tormented me.’
‘Why would they do that?’ Morwen said. ‘Look at you, as handsome as a prince in one of those bard songs.’
‘You think so, maybe.’ The bitterness in Loddlaen’s voice shocked her. ‘You were mocked as a child, or so my father told me, because of your lip. Well, so was I, for my eyes and ears. The other children called me Roundear and Squinteye. At night they’d make little traps because they could see in the dark, but I couldn’t. I was forever falling over stretched ropes or stubbing my toes on rocks. Once a pair of them even laid an ambuscade behind a tent and scared the wits out of me.’
‘I never would have thought you’d have suffered such.’
‘Most people wouldn’t. But I did.’
‘Why didn’t your father put a stop to it? Everyone seems to respect him.’
‘Oh, I was supposed to be strong, you know, and just laugh and ignore them. They’ll stop teasing you if you just ignore it, Da kept saying. I was a Wise One’s son. Why wasn’t I just as wise as he? No matter that I was but a little lad!’
‘And I don’t suppose their mothers ever stopped the little beasts from hurting you.’
‘Oh, they did try. I’ll give them that. The women were so kind, treating me like I was a half-wit. Now don’t hurt Loddlaen, they’d say. He can’t help being like he is. Ever so kind of them!’ Loddlaen paused for a deep breath. ‘Ah well, that was all a long timeago. Here, there’s a breath of steam on that water.’ He tested the herb brew again, then used a forked stick to lift the pot by itsmetal handle. ‘It’ll sting at first, but then it’ll soothe.’ He poured the herb water into the bowl, then set the pot down on the bare ground near the fire. ‘Ebañy, don’t you dare touch that kettle! It’s hot hot hot!’
Evan drew his hand back fast.
‘Good lad,’ Loddlaen said. ‘Try it, Morri. Just one finger at first.’
The herbwater did indeed sting, but in a remarkably short time the sting receded and took the pain with it. Morwen sighed in something like wonderment. Someone was tending her, making her feel better. Someone had gone out of his way to take her part in a squabble, someone who had suffered in the same way as she had.
‘A thousand thanks,’ she said. ‘These herbs are marvels. I truly appreciate your aid.’
‘Well, now,’ Loddlaen said, ‘who wouldn’t do as much for a friend?’
They shared a smile, but Morwen felt as if she