Ren woke up quietly, pursing his dry lips. His throat was sore. He blinked and shook his head. He was sitting on the floor and had fallen asleep against the dark wooden wall behind him. He looked around the small inn room in the Royal Rogue and let out his breath in a long sigh. Tass was asleep on a pile of cushions, her dark green gown wrinkled and her hair dishevelled, while Woodro sat in a chair near the window, looking down into the river canyon that cut through Sheld. The warrior was not asleep, but didn’t notice Renado’s awakening.
On the bed lay Lerran, resting on top of the blankets. He had been changed into clean clothes and washed, but his torso was only clothed with the bandages around his abdomen. Ren could remember the look of the wound after he’d been cleaned—a black line, half a foot long, ran from the bottom of his ribs down his side. The spear wound was surrounded by white and pink flesh, puffed and swollen, but now thankfully concealed by the linen wrap. While Lerran had been legitimately unable to move a single muscle in his legs upon his rescue, he could now squeeze his toes. Ren’s brother was only conscious a few hours a day, and remained laying there during those times, a body suffering to survive.
The healer they had found, a trustworthy man named Jinosh, was sitting nearby at the room’s only table, writing onto a parchment page with a quill. He rarely left Lerran’s bedside, and sent for whatever he needed via Ren, Woodro, or another of the loyalists.
Ren took a sip of water from the canteen discarded near his makeshift seat and started to doze off again. The wall was hardly comfortable, but Vanci was sleeping in the other room they’d paid for, along with Asar, who’s leg wound was not nearly as severe as Lerran’s side.
“Not again,” Jinosh said. “Woodro!”
Lerran was trembling, his face flushed red and his mouth foaming. Jinosh pulled the bed sheets tangled in Lerran’s feet away and gently put his palms on Lerran’s shoulders. As Tass started awake and Ren pushed himself to his feet against the wall, Woodro touched Lerran’s hip and helped the doctor gently turn Lerran onto his side. Saliva dripped onto the cot as Lerran shook. His eyelids fluttered as his face turned pink. The seizure lasted only a minute, unlike the first few he had had. Jinosh let him roll gently onto his back as the episode resided.
With shaky fingers, Tass wiped her eyes as she sat down next to her husband.
“I…” Lerran mumbled a few moments later, as his heavy breathing subsided. “They hit me really hard, didn’t they?
“Lerran?” Tass asked. He’d spoken a few times, during his conscious hours, but this was unlikely to be such a lucid remark.
“Are you… are you one of my sisters?” Lerran mumbled.
“No,” Tass said. “I’m your…” She trailed off. When Ren stepped a little closer, to offer comfort, she smiled weakly and said, “He’s fallen back asleep.”
“It’ll get better,” Jinosh said, gently. “The ginger and bromelain tea will weaken his blood, and relieve the pressure in his head. It is just taking a long time to heal the damage that was done in his captivity. His concussion was severe and untreated for weeks. If the seizures are a permanent side effect, their intensity will likely dissipate over the next month.”
“Thank you,” Tass whispered, leaning down on the cushions next to Lerran. She was nearly four months into her pregnancy, and her belly was beginning to show.
Woodro stretched his arms in apprehension and shook his head. “Wretched fools. Trying to transport him in shape worse than this… He wouldn’t have made it back to Saanazar if that where they were trying to move the prisoners.” He swore again and leaned against the window.
“I’ll be in the common room,” Ren said, opening the door.
Jinosh stopped him before he made it three more steps down the corridor. “A moment, Renado.” He gently closed the door.
“Good news or bad?” Ren asked, running his fingers through his unkempt hair and blinking groggily.
“Bad,” Jinosh said. “I thought I could, but I can’t save him.” He shushed Ren with a raised finger. “Wait, listen. The tea thins his blood to prevent further damage to his brain—which may already be substantial. But it makes his body unable to fight the infection in his side as effectively. His heart, his kidney, his liver… his body will begin shutting down in two or three weeks. If I adjust his treatments perfectly, he might survive the tension between those two problems.”
Ren sighed. “But you said you can’t save him…”
Jinosh grimaced. “Because his fever is not caused by his wounds directly. He was kept in unhealthy conditions, and fed improperly while wounded. His illness will make it impossible for even a perfect treatment schedule saving his life. Lerran has three weeks, at most, unless we find another way.”
“What other way?” Ren asked. If Lerran dies after all of this… He glanced behind him, but the unadorned wooden hallway was empty save the two of them.
“There are no magicians in Sheld,” Jinosh said. “We would need to find one. And a proper healer, at that.”
Ren blinked. “In three weeks? They say in many lands, magicians are common. But there are no such healers in Sheld. The Barren Road will kill Ren, so Lo Mallago is not an option. Saanazar is next closest, but the Grey Brethren would find us beyond a doubt. Starath and Noress-That-Was would be in range…”
“But he needs treatment before the three weeks are up,” Jinosh said. “Choose the closest of those suggestions, for the sake of your brother…”
“Or…” Ren trailed off.
He returned to the door he had left, and opened it quickly. “Woodro, get one of the others and go find some information for me.”
“Information?” his warrior asked.
Ren nodded. “We need a ship. A fast ship. And a truly dedicated captain.”
“Of course,” Woodro said. “Where are we going, boss?” Tass sat up to listen to them.
Ren ran a hand from his forehead across his scalp, brushing his hair with his fingers. “Lerran needs a magician, or he won’t make it.”
“What? Healer?”
Jinosh nodded stoically. “I’ve done all I can for him, and it’s not enough.”
“We’re going to the Isle of Dusk,” Renado told them. “It’s the only place within range of a ship and with a guarantee of having a magician.”
“You said you were lucky to have left there alive,” Tass said. “There has to be a better option!”
“There’s not,” Ren said. “Woodro, find me a damn good captain.”
Woodro started chuckling, for no sailor in their right mind would risk that venture. When he saw how Ren regarded him he cut off his laughter and shook his head. “I’ll try,” he said, with pursed lips, and brushed past Ren.
Lerran mumbled in his sleep, and Tass looked back at him. “I’m going too,” she said, quietly. “We’re all going.”
All that Ren could do was nod. Their options were slipping away one by one, and he couldn’t deny Tass that. He couldn’t deny any of them. He stood a moment longer in the room with them, and then went to prepare.