I do not believe I was unconscious for longer than a few seconds, but when I awoke, I found myself on my side, the rear wall of the den only an inch from my face, and as I lifted my head shakily, a gentle flurry of loose dirt fell upon me from the ceiling. Craning my neck, I saw Carter alongside me with his back to the open air, blocking the worst of the wind. One of his arms was wrapped tightly around my side, the other hand grasping my coat, pulling it over both of us as he moved his body close against mine in what I realized was an attempt to share the insufficient warmth. A jolt of energy ran through me in that moment, an odd sense of security at the compassionate gesture from the man I so deeply believed despised me to no end. Seeing me awake, a faint shadow of uncertainty passed over his face, as though he was unsure how I would respond to the action.
"Major…" Again, I felt much desire to speak further, but a horrible burning erupted in the left side of my head—the side that had been hit just before the confrontation with the enemy—and I could not help a pained grimace, raising my hand to touch the hurting cheek. Carter appeared to understand, and a sudden guilt entered his concerned expression along with the trace of another emotion I could not place, but gave the impression of reaching deep into the man's being.
The silence was broken by a noisy grumble from my empty stomach. Sliding a hand down, I felt a rush of blood to my face as I flushed with embarrassment.
Carter looked at me and said, "You…need to eat. Here—" he dug a hand into his small haversack, withdrew a dark lump of something I identified as bread, and pressed it into my hand.
I shook my head as the faint scent of food brought another rumble to my stomach. "I'm not hungry," I lied. "Please, keep it for yourself, sir. I don't need it."
He ignored the protest—even under more agreeable circumstances, I had never learned how to fool him about anything—and closed my fingers around the bread with surprising strength.
"Eat," he ordered gently, his voice drifting away, tired eyelids fluttering shut.
The pains in my stomach growing worse, I obeyed reluctantly and bit into the bread. Like the water in the canteen, the chunk was half-frozen and hard as a rock, but I managed to gnaw off a sizable piece from the corner and chewed slowly, savoring the feeling of something in my mouth.
Carter was eyeing me again as I finished and appeared satisfied, expelling a low sigh. I worked off another piece of the bread and then set the rest aside.
"Thank you," I mumbled sheepishly. He nodded in acknowledgement but did not speak a reply. We lay in silence for what felt like an eternity, neither of us knowing what to say. I do not know how much time had passed since Hester left, but the light outside had faded completely, our surroundings entirely black, and I guessed that night had fallen around us.
Carter's sudden whisper startled me out of my thoughts. "Your name is…Schuyler?"
The question caught me fully off guard, and for a long moment I did not answer, stunned that he would have any such knowledge of my name, as I could not recall ever mentioning it around him. But then again, I suppose I knew his, having heard Adler use it before. Alastair.
"Yes, sir."
He drew a slow breath and said falteringly, "May I…" His voice trailed off as he hesitated, seemingly unsure of whatever it was he wanted to ask.
"Sir?" I asked, waiting for him to continue.
He did not speak for several seconds, clearly reconsidering his thoughts. I looked toward him, as far as I dared turn my head, my curiosity sparked despite the fact I could see nothing in the darkness. "What is it, sir?"
