WOLF IN THE NORTH by Robert Poyton

Author:Robert Poyton [Poyton, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy, swords sorcery
Publisher: Innsmouth Gold
Published: 2019-06-04T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

As events turned out, Llorc’s wounds proved worse than he’d anticipated. Two days after the attack he was running a fever, the cut in his shoulder inflamed and angry. He grit his teeth and continued to work with the others, cutting the firewood gathered by the children until his vision swam, the ground tilted and he fell into a swoon.

He had little memory of the following days, other than the sensation of being staked out back in that desert land, throat parched, skin blistering under the merciless sun. In his delirium, dark, scorpion-like shapes emerged from the ground, to circle and threaten him with pincers and stingers. He tried to wave them back but barely had strength to lift his arms. The foul creatures drew ever closer, pincers clacking, before scuttling directly at him in a rush. As they began swarming over his supine body he gave a hoarse scream and sat up sharply, arms flailing.

“Careful, now,” cautioned Aine. “You nearly made me drop the bowl.”

Llorc stared wild-eyed, damp hair plastered to his forehead. He was in one of the back chambers of the great hall, dressed only in light tunic, under a layer of heavy furs. Aine moved the earthenware bowl back to his side and, taking a cloth from it, mopped his brow.

“How long have I been abed?” he asked.

“Four days. Your wound had festered. You have had a fever but it looks to have broken. How do you feel?”

“Weak as a babe.” He gingerly stretched his arms up, wincing at pain in shoulder and ribs. “You have tended me?”

“You and others,” Aine replied with a smile. “Rest now. I will return with food.”

Llorc sank back into the warm furs and, within seconds was in deep, dreamless sleep.

He remained abed for another three days. On the third, Aine came to him with no food or water but a certain look in her eyes. She sat on the bed and lay a cool hand on Llorc's brow. “And how is your strength now, warrior?” she asked.

Llorc grinned. “Better. Strong enough I’ll wager. Your aunt?”

“Away with the hunters. She won’t return for hours.”

Llorc sat up and snaked an arm around the young woman’s waist. “Time enough then, if strength holds out,” he said, drawing her to him.

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