Pursued - Entire book

Chapter 60

Klair woke in the predawn in the wagon yelling, "Bejja!" Gentle hands pressed him down, restraining his thrashing body. His heart pounded with the fresh memory of the night of his master's died. The outcry changed to heavy panting.  

The woodcrafters of The Whistler, displaying worry, silently loosened their hold and watched him, as he fought to calm himself.

Klair sat up and fisted at the moisture in his eyes. "Sorry," he murmured. He saw that during his sleep they had given him a night shirt.

"We understand," Emson said. "We didn't know if we should wake you."

Rosetta sat stiffly next to him. "We could only watch as you relived Bejja's torture and death." She gripped her arms as her voice quavered. "It was horrid." When he turned away, she reached over and gently turned his head to face her. "It isn't your fault, Klair. The man knew your weaknesses and exploited them." She sat up straighter then reached out to him.

Klair forced himself to relax into her embrace.

"Master Bejja will not die in vain." she murmured.

"You need true rest, without the nightmares, if you hope to heal quickly," Emson warned. "What did Ilock recommend?"

Klair shook his head, changing the subject. "We'll head straight to Merrsain and confirm our plans."

Emson hesitated. "Yes, a strategy is imperative. We need you to diagram Merrsain when we reach camp. Any idea of how many wizards might be there?"

"No."

"We have one wizard and two wagons of ... Norms? Is that what the Kapawn call us? Merrsain is far north, close to Herrick... they don't like wizards right? What should we expect when we reach there?"

Klair did not answer.

Emson waited a moment then continued, "You need be fully recovered. It'll be two six-days to reach Merrsain. You've been tortured! It's too soon. It's not something that can be put on a shelf, lad."

Klair's voice turned hard. "We can't wait!"

"They'll be expecting you. We must not do what they expect. As you suggest, let's plan when we make camp," Emson countered soothingly. He shifted "What ointments did Ilock use for your wounds?"

Klair glowered for a moment. Emson was right. He was asking things Klair hadn't yet considered. Klair would have to use Ilock's special mix to keep accelerating the healing process. He looked about him. "The jar, where's the jar?"

Rosla reached down and lifted it before her.

"Good idea to bring that with you," Emson acknowledged.

Klair sighed. "Embel helps with the stitches. But we needed to discuss—" Why is Emson shaking his head. The man darted a brief glance at Rosla who was sitting next to him. Her head was bent, studying her hands. Then Emson was looking again at Klair.

Was Rosla upset about what we're going to do? Should she have stayed back at The Whistler? Klair took in her set features.

Alright, they'd discuss their plans once they made camp.

Trying to suppress his growing impatience, he settled down in the makeshift bed.

The men around him visibly relaxed.

Klair directed an unfocused gaze to the sky above. He didn't want to even be close to Sheenay; but, he'd seen the looks of horror of those in the wagon when he woke screaming. Who would want to force their friends to relive his nightmares?