Chapter 7
Pain was a distant and persistent disturbance that pulled his mind out of deep sleep. His body felt heavy and unwilling to move no matter how much he wanted it to. After a few shallow breaths he strained his eyelids open and had to blink a few times to get some focus.
The surroundings were all a dull grey color lacking in detail and left him without anything familiar to fasten his eyes on. Muscles complained when he turned his head to the side as if he hadn't used them in a long time. Eyelids wanted to drift shut and he forced them open again.
There was a figure over there amidst the grey, something darker that he could focus on. If he squinted and concentrated he could make out shapes, although it did make his head pound with the effort. A man in a chair. He recognized that hair.
"Kell…" It came out a half strangled whisper and he had to swallow, his throat was parched. "Kell," he croaked again. Gods, he wanted water.
The golden head lifted slowly, heavily, and narrow, bloodshot eyes moved to discern the source of the sound and fixed on Will's bed. Then they opened wide in realization and the prince shot out of his chair and stumbled over to Will.
"Gods of earth and air!" The prince fell to his knees and grabbed Will's cold hand between his own warm ones. "Will." Then he fell quiet as if he suddenly couldn't speak.
Will realized the prince's hands were trembling. "What happened?" he managed to say.
There was a short hesitation before the answer came. "You were shot." The prince's voice was tight, strained. "A crossbow. It just barely missed your heart."
Will blinked heavily to refocus his blurring vision. "I remember… fighting. I let my horse go," he said slowly as memories sporadically came back to him in unclear flashes.
"Yes, I saw it run past."
"I think I killed someone," he whispered. An upsetting thought.
"It's okay, Will. Don't worry about that now." The prince squeezed his hand tighter.
He turned his head slightly, as much as his aching muscles would allow, and looked at the prince. His eyes lacked their usual brilliance and there was a deep crease between his eyebrows. He suddenly remembered the prince had been in that battle as well. "Are you okay?"
Finally, the flutter of a smile passed over that beautiful face and then the muscles in his jaw clenched. "Yes, I'm fine," he said with a tremble to his voice. "I'm not hurt. You need to rest, Will."
"I'm thirsty." He was tired too, he realized.
The prince quickly got up and went over to the small table, he came back with a cup of fresh water and held it to Will's lips. He cupped a supporting hand behind his head and patiently tilted the cup to let Will drink. It was exhausting to swallow and half of it ran out over his cheek. The prince wiped it off with the sleeve of his tunic, the blue one that really brought out the color of his eyes.
"I like that tunic," Will murmured. "It goes with your eyes."
The prince swallowed hard and brought Will's hand to his mouth to kiss the open palm, a soft, careful kiss. "Forgive me, Will," he whispered quietly, his breath warm against Will's hand.
"For what?" His eyelids drifted down and he willed them open with an effort.
"For not being there." His eyes shifted to Will's face, pleading for forgiveness.
Will couldn't quite understand what he was talking about, he was sitting right there. "It's okay," he said, hoping it was the right thing to do. His fingers curled around the prince's hand.
"Rest now, Will. I'll be here when you wake up."
Will thought he smiled at the prince, but he couldn't be sure before he drifted off again.
* * * * * * * *
The next time he came to he realized the grey color around him was tent canvas walls. He could see the open tent flap from where he lay and judging by the light on the dry grass outside it was daytime. He could hear voices and feet moving by outside and the distant rumbling of a wagon.
Will moved slightly and felt sore all over. His body complained over the sudden command to use muscles that had gone stiff and Will decided to lie still for a moment longer.
Memories returned to him then. Memories of fighting, men against men, blood and screaming and swords clashing just within feet of him. And then pain. Sudden, shocking pain piercing through him and the panic as he had realized he couldn't breathe. His body began to tremble as he fought to get up from under the constricting blankets to flee the terrifying memories. His heart began thudding franticly, a sob broke free from his throat when he failed to push his heavy body up and he reached towards the open tent flap for anyone to help him.
~Calm, Will.~
~Ashiná!~ he cried and clutched the blanket tightly to his chest with trembling hands, something to hold on to.
~Calm down. You're okay. They healed you.~
He pulled a shuddering breath and lay his head back down on the pillow. Hearing his guardian's warm voice, he slowly calmed down. ~Where am I?~
~You're safe in the prince's tent.~
Will blinked in surprise, his own panic forgotten. ~Kell's tent?~
~Yes. He wouldn't let them put you with the other wounded men.~
~Why not?~
~He's been so worried, Will. He hardly left your side.~
~Yes, I remember. He was here before. Gods, was he crying?~
Ashiná didn't answer.
Piotry walked into the tent then and smiled broadly and a little relieved when he saw Will was awake. "How are you feeling, Will? Gods, you've been out for quite some time."
"I have?" He really had no notion, he thought perhaps it had been nighttime or at least dawn last time he had been awake, that would explain the dull light.
"You've been out for almost four days, Will," said Piotry seriously and pulled up a chair to the bed and sat down. "But I suppose a wound that severe requires a long hibernation."
So that's why his body was so sore. All strength and reserves had been used up to heal the wound and left the rest of the body with only spare energy, enough to make blood flow.
"It was that bad?" He was almost afraid to ask.
Piotry seemed reluctant to answer and that was all Will needed to know. When Piotry eventually did answer his voice was low and his eyes solemn.
"You were as good as dead, Will. But Aron cursed at me to save you. He lent me every resource of strength he could spare himself to heal you properly."
"Thank you." Honest, heartfelt gratitude towards his fellows, putting themselves at risk for his sake.
Piotry smiled. "You're welcome. But really, I would've done my damnedest anyway or the prince would've had my head." He gave him a sly look from the corner of his eye. "He really is quite taken with you. What ever have you done to him?"
Will blushed. "I've done nothing!" he blurted a bit too fast.
Piotry just laughed.
Grumbling Will moved to sit up to hide his embarrassment and pain shot through his chest, rendering his left arm numb. He gasped and squeezed his eyes shut to stop the pain tears that clogged his lashes together and bit back the rising nausea.
"Lay still, Will!" Piotry put a firm hand on his shoulder. "You're not well enough to move around just yet and I don't feel like having to change the bandages again because of stupidity."
"Gods," he groaned and sank back into the pillow. "Can you do something about it?" He didn't want to feel so helpless.
"I will, but healing is straining on your body as well. Just give it today and I'll heal you up good and proper tomorrow."
Will nodded. "Sounds good," he murmured. His eyelids threatened to fall close and he was suddenly bone weary as if the burst of pain had drained him of what strength he had.
Piotry got up and poured a cup of water that he made Will drink. It tasted bitter and Will suspected there was some kind of herb mixed in it.
~He's here,~ Ashiná murmured.
The prince stepped through the tent flap, his black leather jerkin and boots covered by a slight layer of dust. His gaze surveyed the tent and when it stopped at Will there was a slight drawing of the lips as if he was about to smile. The prince pulled off his sturdy leather gloves as he walked straight over to the bed.
"You're awake." Those eyes studied his face critically.
Will nodded, slowly as though not to lose sight of a long missed face. "Yes."
The prince looked not quite as tired as Will remembered he had last time he saw him, but then again he had no notion of how long it had been since then. Four days Piotry had said.
The redheaded sorcerer came over to them. "Make sure he lies still, my prince. If he doesn't you have my permission to tie him down," he more or less ordered before he left the tent with one last cautioning look at Will.
The prince sank down in the chair Piotry had occupied. He sighed deeply and stretched out his long legs.
Will looked more closely at him. "You seem troubled, my prince." Blue eyes turned to him.
"I'm just weary of all this fighting." He rubbed the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "I want to go home, Will. If not to the capital, then at least to Adeban."
"You have a house in Adeban?"
The prince laughed softly at his surprised question. "Yes, I do. Well, it's more like a small mansion down hill from the keep. Even a prince needs somewhere to live away from home."
"I suppose so. So it's your house?"
"Actually it belongs to my father. He makes use of it sometimes when he and mother need a respite from court, during the summer mostly. Mother fell in love with Adeban when she first saw the city and father couldn't help but build her a manor there. To make her happy."
"Oh." The prince's words made Will think of his own family and how close it had been they'd receive the black news. He shuddered involuntarily.
"Are you okay? Are you cold? I can get you another blanket." The prince moved forward in the seat with a concerned expression on his face.
"No, my prince. I'm fine. Just a shiver."
The blue eyes narrowed with scrutiny and he put a hand to Will's forehead.
"I don't have a fever." He impatiently brushed the hand away, albeit with some reluctance, it felt good with the prince's touch.
He got an offended glare from the prince who had only been showing concern for the sorcerer's health.
"Piotry said he'll heal me again tomorrow. I'll be strong enough to move back to my own tent then."
"I'll let Piotry be the judge of that." The prince leaned back in the chair and looked at him over his steepled fingers.
"I don't want to be a burden to you, my prince," Will insisted.
"You're a burden when you're bickering. And don't 'my prince' me, Will. You know my name and you have my leave to use it, at least in private."
Will frowned sullenly. He still decided to make Piotry let him move back to his own tent tomorrow with the excuse not to infringe on the prince' private quarters any longer, and what the sorcerer decided about his patient could only be countermanded by the prince with difficulty. But he nodded to the prince as to not raise any suspicion.
There was the distant sound of riders passing by outside and someone with a very powerful voice bellowing out orders.
"Where are we anyway?" he asked to redirect the prince's concern.
"We're in high commander Jayce's camp at the Knee. We arrived here at nightfall the same day you were shot."
~Yes. He drove the soldiers on to get you to safety,~ Ashiná said.
~What?~
~He wanted you safe.~
Will scowled reproachfully at the prince who was oblivious to the internal conversation.
"What? Is something wrong?" He looked warily at Will.
"You pushed your men to get here."
"Well, we weren't that far away and it wouldn't have been safe to spend a night out there."
"You had other wounded men than me to care about," he said reproachfully.
"Now, wait a minute. I did care about them. They were healed by your fellow sorcerers and those who couldn't walk were put in every available wagon. You were the one worst off except those who had already died." The prince leaned forward in his seat and fixed Will with a piercing blue stare, angry now, insulted that he had been accused of negligence. "Don't tell me I don't care about my men, sorcerer, because I do, and without them this land would belong to king Uriche of the damned Iloron kingdom by now."
Will felt ashamed for having offended the prince, he should've known Kell had thought about everyone of his men's safety and wellbeing. That was the kind of man he was. Egoistic of Will to think otherwise, to even assume he was the only one on the prince's mind. Gods, he was blushing.
"You sure you don't have a fever? You look a bit flushed," the prince wondered and arched an eyebrow.
"I'm fine," he grumbled.
~Why'd you tell me that?~ he shot angrily at Ashiná.
~I was merely stating facts. And I thought his care for you was important to you.~
~State all the facts next time and stop getting me into trouble.~
~Okay. You do that well on your own anyway.~ And with that the guardian was gone.
Will let out an exasperated breath and wished the prince would leave so he could sulk in private. But then again, this was the prince's tent so he couldn't very well ask him to go away.
The prince sighed when their conversation failed and got out of the chair to stretch his arms towards the tent's ceiling. He went over to rummage around in a large box on the table for a moment, taking out a dagger to put on the tabletop, and then opened a chest on the ground in the corner behind the table. He pulled out a new set of garments and without further ado began to take off the tunic and jerkin he was wearing.
Will's eyes widened as he realized what was happening and he quickly turned his head the other way. Gods. Not that he hadn't seen the prince's naked torso before, but this was different, this was in his tent, in private. Will felt how he blushed.
And still he couldn't keep from taking just a quick peek out of the corner of his eye. The prince stood with his back turned and Will could look without fear of getting caught. He ran his eyes down the curve and dip of the prince's spine. That back was just as beautiful as he remembered it; wide shoulders and strong, lean muscles under smooth, faintly golden skin. It wasn't natural for a man to have skin like that, it couldn't be.
And then the prince combed out the braid in his hair and it fell down in waves over his shoulders, the ends tickling the skin across the shoulder blades. Will stared openly then, unable to help himself, his blood rushing in his ears. His hands ached to touch that hair. And then he was robbed of it all when the new shirt and then the tunic were pulled on.
"I'll be having supper with the commanders tonight," the prince was saying and he turned around to look at Will as he clasped the tunic and wrapped the belt with the dagger around his waist.
Will twitched guiltily and quickly averted his eyes. If the prince had noticed anything he didn't let it show.
"I'll be back later to check on you, if you like."
That sounded almost like a question, as if he was asking for permission.
"Yes. Well, I mean, I wouldn't mind." Will tried to find proper words. Gods, he was the one in the prince's own bunk, in the prince's own tent and he was stumbling gracelessly over himself to allow the man entry to his own quarters. The prince came over to look down at him in bed and he stared up a bit wide-eyed and shy.
"You get some rest now. I'll send Piotry over with something for you to eat."
"I don't think Piotry will be too happy when he realizes he's been degraded to manservant, my prince."
The smile was brief but true. "Well, I can't very well send my own man since he's back in main camp, so the sorcerer is just going to have to deal with it. And I am the highest ranking commander in this camp so he can't very well argue." His lips twisted into a somewhat rueful smile. "And he has to check on you anyway," he added.
"Still, I'd like to see his face when you tell him," Will smiled.
"I'll tell you all about it later," the prince promised.
* * * * * * * *
The topic at supper was the same as it had been every night since they joined forces with Jayce; how to best get rid of the marauders. The commanders were discussing several tactics back and forth and often ended up in a heated debate that Kell had to sort out to keep the calm. Two proud and strong willed high commanders in the same camp wasn't always a good idea, especially when those two were Rión and Jayce. Both had years of experience and they were of the same age too, so none of them could really claim seniority over the other. They were not bad men; on the contrary, they were honorable and true to their king, but proud and confident of their own abilities. However much they saw each other as opponents they both listened to Kell, as their prince and liege and as their respected leader, and he had the final word when decisions were made.
Eventually they came to the agreement that Kell's troops would stay for the rest of the week to help clear out the remaining intruders before they had to return to main camp not to leave it undermanned for too long. After they had successfully turned the ambush against the marauders and with the past four days of skirmishes, there wasn't that many intruders left in these woods, but they had formed smaller bands now and were scattered over a larger area. To find all of them would take some effort. Three more days before the march back to main camp, then. That would give Will enough time to recover his strength.
The young sorcerer was asleep when Kell came back to his tent, so he moved around as quietly as possible as not to disturb him. But he couldn't keep himself from touching though, a careful caress of the forehead to brush the hair away from closed eyes. Soft hair and so very thick. He wanted to plunge his fingers into the depths just to see how much of his hands he could hide in it.
He sat in the chair for a while, listening to the now easy breathing. It hadn't been so before. The first night Will had barely breathed at all and Kell had waited almost in panic between one struggling breath and the next. He hadn't slept much that night except for when exhaustion claimed its due.
Kell got ready for bed and rolled out the bedroll and blankets Will had in his knapsack. It didn't look too inviting sleeping on the ground, but he didn't really care as long as he was close to Will.
* * * * * * * *
He woke to the sound of soft voices and peered up blearily over the edge of the blanket, a bit annoyed at the intrusion. It was Piotry and Aron and they had just stepped in through the tent flap. They bowed their heads, Piotry in respect although with a curious smile and Aron with an arched eyebrow. He didn't care what they thought, he was the prince and could damn well spend the night where and how he pleased. He considered telling them just that when Piotry set about preparing himself for healing, while Aron went over to Will still asleep in the bunk.
Kell scrambled up off the bedroll and got to Aron's side just as Will began to stir. He looked better this morning, there was some color to his skin and the eyes that blinked up at them were bright.
"Good morning," Kell offered and received a shy smile that stirred something inside.
"I suppose it is." Will stretched a bit under the blankets and looked curiously at Aron and Piotry.
"We should give them room, my prince," Aron said and urged Kell back a few steps.
Piotry helped Will to sit up while he unwrapped the bandages around his chest. This was the first time Kell – or Will for that matter – saw the wound the crossbow bolt had given Will. It had pierced into the ribcage just to the outside of Will's left nipple at an angle that just barely missed the heart but did all the more damage to his lung instead. One had to be grateful for that small gift from the Fates, though; had it hit the heart Will would've been dead the moment he went down.
The wound was still sore and the skin around it red but there was no infection. Piotry had explained to Kell that first night when he had – rather hysterical and beside himself – confronted the redheaded sorcerer on Will's never improving condition, that he had to heal Will in turns. First to stop the internal bleeding and to close the wound enough to keep him alive, healing the most threatening damage on the inside. That had taken almost half of Aron's reserves which Piotry had been allowed to tap into.
The second turn he forced out all the evil bacteria and gave him enough strength to make it through the night. After that Will's breathing had improved but the fever had still remained high. Piotry had poured numerous herbal mixtures into Will's unresisting mouth and watched over him for hours on end, and eventually the fever broke and Piotry could heal him for the third time in thirty-two hours.
It had been such a relief when Will had woken up that first time that Kell almost hadn't been able to hold back the tears. And he had cried when Will went back to sleep, all the agony and weariness of the past two days washing over him and forcing their way out. He was grateful no one had walked in to see him in that shameful, weak state.
Kell watched now as Piotry put his skillful fingers to Will's chest and let healing powers flow between them. Will shivered once and then his eyes drifted shut with a slow exhale. His head slumped forward but he remained sitting upright with the support of Piotry's hands.
Kell felt Aron's hand on his shoulder and the old sorcerer gave him an encouraging wink. After a while of silent waiting Piotry straightened his back and Will almost fell forward into his arms. Kell hurried over to help him tuck Will's limp body back under the blankets, he was asleep again.
"Will he be alright?" He couldn't hide his worry.
"Yes, my prince. But healing is straining on his body as well. He just needs rest now." Piotry turned to him. "You should go and get yourself a proper breakfast, my prince. You look a bit exhausted. And perhaps a stop at the baths?" He arched an eyebrow suggestively.
Kell gave him a look out of the corner of his eye. But he was hungry, he admitted to himself, and there was some sort of smell emanating from his shirt.
"We'll stay here until he comes around if you haven't returned before then," Aron assured him.
So he bundled up fresh clothes and went down to the hot springs to treat himself to clean skin and hair. The morning was still early and he was as good as the only one there. The one seasoned soldier present was bright enough to understand he was in no position to share water with the prince, and after a nod and a bow he went further away to give the prince his privacy.
Grateful for the respect Kell set about washing himself clean. He grinned sheepishly to himself as he scrubbed the golden length of his hair, remembering Will's fondness for it, his fingers combing through it. That was one of the reasons he left it loose around his shoulders after finishing with his bath, that and because it was still too wet to braid properly.
The cook bowed and smiled widely and gave Kell a tray with newly baked bread, a large piece of cheese, hot tea, fruit and jam. The smell was alluring and his mouth watered, but he thought of Will and took it all with him back to the tent.
Piotry and Aron was sitting in the two chairs by the table, talking quietly when he stepped inside. Will was still resting and the blankets had been pulled up under his chin.
Piotry nodded pleased at the prince's clean appearance. "Much better," he commended. "Now you look like the prince we know."
Kell considered scolding him for the disrespect but thought better of it. "It was that bad?" he asked instead.
"You were quite out of sorts, my prince," Aron answered, his eyelids lowering slightly as he studied Kell's damp hair.
"I guess I was." Gods, he had been out of sorts, he'd never been so worried since his mother had been in childbed with his brother, nearly losing both her and newborn.
Piotry was investigating the tray on the table. "Looks like good food. Make sure Will eats as much as possible when he wakes up, my prince. I'll be back in a few hours to check on him." And then they left.
Kell sighed and sank down in a chair, remnants of his anxiety were still trailing lazily about inside him and he shook his head as if to clear it of them. It was hard to let go of such vigilance when he had lived it these past few days. If only Will would wake up and let him know for sure he was okay he'd be able to let it go.
He put away the best pieces of bread and fruit for Will and ate his own share in silence, keeping a watchful eye at the bunk and the body in it. Will stirred after a while, roused out of sleep by the smell of tea and warm bread, and opened his brown eyes to fix them on Kell.
"Smells good, that," he murmured sleepily.
Kell felt a smile spreading across his face. "I brought some for you as well. Piotry wants you to eat."
Will yawned and moved his left arm carefully to test the muscles around the wound, apparently not too painful judging by the slow blinking eyes and the fluttering of fingers across his chest. Then he moved to sit up and Kell hurried over to help him.
The sorcerer impatiently brushed his hands away. "Gods, I'm not a child, my prince."
"But you're weak as one." Kell insisted on lending his aid until he was sure Will could sit upright and then reluctantly removed his hands.
Will looked down at his naked chest, the blanket around his waist, and blushed. "Where's my shirt?" he asked a bit uneasy and glanced up at the prince.
Kell felt the corner of his mouth twitch in amusement. It really didn't bother him that the young sorcerer was naked; in fact it was quite nice to see some skin, especially the unmarred expanse leading down towards hipbones and navel.
"Probably burned by now," he said. "There was too much blood to wash out properly." He stifled a shiver at the unwanted memory of Will's limp, bloodied body in his arms, his clothes more red than grey after having soaked up the young sorcerer's life blood.
"My pack, then. I have a shirt in my pack."
Kell sighed and slowly went to search out Will's pack; after all it was in his tent too.
However, Will was still too sore to lift his left arm too high and he needed help to put on the shirt. Kell wetted his lips and helped him as carefully as he could, doing his best to keep his mind off the fascinating skin under his fingers. But as Will made to pull the shirt down he put a hand to the sorcerer's chest to stop the cloth's descent. Will looked surprised at him, opening his mouth as if to say something, and Kell silenced him with two fingers hovering over his lips. Will blinked, waiting for an explanation.
Kell's eyes wandered down over Will's chest to his stomach where the blanket began, concealing the lower half of his body, and then up again. His gaze stopped at the scar that Piotry hadn't been able to heal; the brutality of the bolt could not be completely undone even by his considerable powers.
He bit his teeth together. They had been forced to cut Will half open to get the damned bolt out and he would wear the scar for the rest of his life, a grim reminder that not even a sorcerer was invulnerable. The scar went straight down next to the nipple and was as long as Kell's index finger. He let a fingertip brush the length of it and Will shuddered.
"Still sore?" Kell murmured.
"A bit," Will managed to say. His eyes were riveted on the prince's face.
Kell dared to lean forward and kissed the scar carefully, feathering his lips over it. Will gasped and one of his hands tangled in Kell's loose hair hesitantly.
Will's scent unfurled in his nose and he had to force himself to lean back again. "Better?" he asked when he found his voice and looked up at the other's face; Will's eyes closed and lips slightly parted.
"I think so." He nodded. "Yes." And then he smiled and met Kell's gaze with dark eyes. "Much better than Piotry's healing."
Kell smiled as well. "Don't tell him that, he'll be devastated." He slowly removed his hand and the shirt fell down. "You should eat." He got up and went to get the tray and a chair and sat down next to the bed, with enough space between them for propriety but close enough to be able to reach out and touch Will if he needed to, and judging by the ache in his loins he might well need it.
Will ate happily enough and they whiled away an hour just sitting there, speaking of common things, shutting out the world outside the tent and the reasons for them being there. It was an amiable hour and Kell felt himself relax finally.
Will yawned then, hiding it behind a hand and blinking apologetically at Kell, as if ashamed he was exhausted.
"Tired?" Kell asked and took his feet off the edge of the bunk.
"A bit," Will admitted. "I guess my body is still recovering even though the wound is healed."
"Yes, Piotry said it would take some time."
Will scooted down under the blankets and put his head down on the pillow. "Perhaps I should rest." He sounded sleepy enough.
"You should." Kell pulled the blankets up for him and received a lazy smile for the concern.
"I'll go back to my own tent later." It came out a murmur as Will's eyes drifted closed.
"You'll do no such thing, sorcerer, unless I tell you to." But Will was already asleep, having kept himself awake for longer than he should, if Kell's suspicions were correct, to entertain the prince in his tent even though he shouldn't have. Kell shook his head at the sorcerer's stubborn, silly notion and sank back down in the chair to watch him sleep.
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