Griffin's Shadow by Leslie Ann Moore

Author:Leslie Ann Moore [Moore, Leslie Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780979621161
Publisher: Ridan Publishing
Published: 2009-02-28T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

No Choice But Surrender

Ashinji awoke to find himself clad only in his breeches, lying on a blanket atop a loose pile of straw. A thick bandage swaddled his left shoulder. As he blinked slowly to clear his vision, his surroundings swam into focus.

Light’s pretty dim, it must be near sunset. That means I’ve been out at least a day…Ai Goddess, the attack! It’s over now, of course…Sadaiyo held them off, surely…Sadaiyo had to have…he had to!

Struggling against the pain that threatened to send him back into the embrace of the darkness, he levered himself up to a sitting position and looked around.

An awning of dirty canvas swayed overhead, supported by two poles driven into the ground at its front edge. The back and sides were secured to a three-sided enclosure made of the slender trunks of sapling trees. Loosely woven matting attached to the saplings served as a screen; whether to foil curious eyes or keep him ignorant of what lay beyond his prison, Ashinji could only guess.

A pair of guards sat on stools at the front of the enclosure, their backs to him, the slump of their shoulders speaking eloquently of their boredom and absolute belief in his helplessness. Ashinji, much to his surprise, found himself taking offense at the guards’ offhand attitude toward him, then the absurdity of such feelings struck him and he couldn’t help but laugh.

I am helpless, he thought. And wounded. And totally alone.

One of the guards heard Ashinji’s bleak expression of mirth. He twisted around on his stool and peered into the gloom of the makeshift cell. “Hey Trip, I think he’s awake,” he said to his companion.

“Hey, tink! You awake in there?” the other guard called out.

Ashinji considered feigning continued unconsciousness, but he was desperately thirsty and he hoped these two had orders, at the very least, to see to his basic needs.

“Please, may I have some water?” he asked, and silently cursed the weakness of his voice.

“Go get him some water.”

The one called Trip heaved himself to his feet, and grumbling under his breath, stumped off. The remaining guard continued to stare into the enclosure, searching the shadows. “We’d all heard you spoke Soldaran,” he said. “Her Ladyship’ll be happy you’re still alive. Soon as Trip’s back with the water, I’m off to fetch her.”

Ashinji didn’t bother with a reply. Instead, he lay back on the crude mattress and curled up on his uninjured side. I might still be alive now, but for how long? he thought. His entire left arm and shoulder throbbed with brutal intensity. A ferocious headache and queasy stomach only compounded his misery. He knew a poisoned wound could bring an ugly death, and he felt sick with dread.

Even with their far more sophisticated knowledge of anatomy and physiology, despite the advantages of medical sorcery, elven doctors could not stop the advance of putrefaction once it had progressed past a certain point. Ashinji had little confidence in the Soldaran camp surgeon’s ability to save him if his wound turned bad.

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