Masquerading

15. Walking Into Oblivion

TORTURE. It had felt like torture to follow after Tavis and the Princess, and it took an eternity. An eternity that Kyden was left lying in the burrows at the mercy of the olm. He'd been so consumed by worry and pain that he couldn't remember much of the journey. Nor had he noted the change in landscape until they stopped. After the harshness of the White Wood, the lush colours of the fringes of the Wilds were a comfort.

Leif collapsed in the rushes at the edge of a ravine he'd apparently crossed; atop the steep hill he had no desire to climb, he could see their horses. Smoke pluming upwards let him know that Tavis and the Princess would have been well settled by the time Killi reached the top. He watched, eyes drooping, as Killi greeted the horses.

"Leif." Tavis stood over him, worry etched deeply on his face.

"Tave?"

"Killi sent me to see to your wound." He indicated the lower section of Leif's shirt that was now black with dried blood.

Leif sat with some effort and waved Tavis off. "It's not as bad as it looks. Most of this isn't mine."

Tavis fixed a sardonic look on him before examining Leif's knee. "It's a bit swollen."

"As I'm sure yours is, Tave, you shouldn't have come back dow—"

"Leif, we both know I'm not much use the rest of the time; this is the only way I can help." Tavis applied a stinking salve to Leif's knee and firmly wrapped a bandage around it.

The almost instant relief made Leif mutter a thanks to Gwree and Bwillok who'd pointed out all sorts of helpful leaves to Tavis.

With a triumphant smile, Tavis squeezed Leif's knee and stood. "Goodnight."

It was a slow walk up the hill for Tavis and, as he reached the top, he turned back to Leif with brotherly concern on his face. "If some of that blood is yours, those leaves I left will help the wound from festering."

The thought of opening the cincher again and looking at the flesh made Leif feel sick. But the thought of morning bringing with it a festering burning fever to stop him from going after Kyden made the feeling worse. With a sigh, he carefully undid the hooks and felt an immediate comfort as his flesh breathed. Under the thick boning, the layers of fabric that Kyden had wrapped him with were soaked through. Sucking in a hard breath along with his stomach, he gingerly worked the leaves under the makeshift bandages.

Leaving the cincher open for some time would have been a heavenly chance to breathe freely, but he eyed the top of the hill once more; the pull of exhaustion and pain could have him asleep in an eye's blink. He didn't think he could bear seeing that same look on Tavis or Killi's faces. It had nearly broken him with Kyden; that heart-wrenching look of betrayal.

Leif hoped Kyden knew he hadn't wanted to leave him there. That he had every intention of going back for him, even if, as Killi had been careful not to say, there was nothing to go back for. Because Kyden had been very wrong about one thing—his heart was currently lying in the olm burrows, not in the Princess' hands.