Daughter of the Rebellion

Chapter 14

When Jeremiah called to me, letting me know it was time for lunch at the river, I groaned.

Richard had allowed Jeremiah to take me to the river every few days, whenever he had enough time free from his many duties. While there, I would usually help him with his lessons.

After everything he told me, I still couldn't believe that Richard had allowed me to teach Jeremiah to read and write, but he had and Jeremiah had absorbed everything like a sponge. He must have practiced every night because in a very short time, he was writing legibly and reading many words without help.

I knew he must be eager to do more - we started on numbers on our last trip to the river, but I really wasn't feeling up for any of it today.

Jeremiah would probably worry since the only other time I didn't want to go was just after everything happened with Alyssa. I'd been too upset and scared to venture out of the safety of the tent for days afterward. But that was several weeks ago now, and since then, I had jumped at every opportunity to get some fresh air and time away from the confining space.

Knowing it was unavoidable, I went to see Jeremiah. As usual, he was standing just out front, basket of food in hand and a small notebook under his arm.

"I hope you like salmon. Cook has a ton of....." He trailed off, noticing that something was wrong.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm feeling a little sick. Do you mind if we skip the river today?" I knew he would agree to almost anything I asked, but it wouldn't be without question and concern.

"Of course," he said. "Are you alright? I could fetch the doctor."

"No!" I refused too enthusiastically, worried by the prospect.

"No," I said again more calmly, seeing his bewilderment. "I'm sure it's nothing. I just need some rest."

"If you're sure." He didn't sound convinced.

"I am."

"Well, here." He held out the basket. "Take the food."

Nausea rolled over me at the smell that came from the basket. Was that the salmon?

"No." I took a step back. "I don't think I could eat it. You take it."

Dropping the offending hamper to his side, he said, "you don't want anything for lunch?"

I was actually hungry, just not for whatever I smelled in that basket. "Could I maybe have some bread and a few apples?"

"Of course," he said, clearly still worried. "Are you sure I can't get you anything else? I don't know how well-stocked the hospital tent is, but I could see if the doc has something that would help."

"No really," I insisted, knowing that nothing was going to help me now. "I'll be fine after I rest some."

Clearly dissatisfied with his lone task of obtaining bread and fruit for me, he nodded. "Alright then. I'll just be a few minutes."

When he left me alone, I wandered back into the tent and slumped in the chair, vowing that I wouldn't cry until after Jeremiah returned. If he saw me like that, he might ignore what I said and bring the doctor anyway. But I didn't need a doctor.

At least, I didn't want to see him yet. I would probably have to see him to know exactly what the problem was, but I knew enough for now.

Something was terribly wrong.

Perhaps I contracted some sickness in this place. That would explain why I felt this way. Or maybe I was just always damaged and never knew until now.