Cursed: Traitor's Trail

Chapter 2 part 3

 Nausea awoke him, that and the need to empty his bladder. He rolled off of the pallet intending to stand, but pain blasted his muscles and ricocheted through his head sinking him to the floor instead.

An empty bone bowl filled his vision. He stared toward it in confusion. It took longer than it should have for him to realize its purpose, in fact, it didn't occur to him until his stomach heaved.

“Do not try to focus your eyes...or stand,” Kierra's voice warned from somewhere overhead.

Even the sound of her speech sent spikes into his mind enticing another wave of nausea. He lay there, very still, following her instructions and trying not to die. Where had she gone? Wasn't it callous to leave a patient in pain in the dirt?

A soft hand startled him out of his thoughts.

“Drink this.”

He immediately regretted his moping; it would be much better if she would just leave him alone. He did not want to drink anything. She held a cup with some form of steaming liquid in front of him. It smelled terrible, and the green bits floating within ensured it looked no better.

He made no move to accept it.

“Trust me,” She cajoled. “I have even used my special store for you...you look miserable by the way.”

"To match how I feel." A chuckle tried to emerge without permission, but the attempt threatened his tenuous hold on his stomach, and bladder. Great God don't let me embarrass myself like that.

“Trust me,” she repeated, pushing the cup beneath his face and toward his lips. "Jaob, don't make me tackle you and force it down."

She could too, in his current condition. He had no choice but to oblige and drink; slowly, at first, but the second the liquid hit his throat, the nausea abated. Not perfectly better, his muscles still ached like he had been dragged through the steppes, and his head felt ready to burst, but that too dulled by the second sip.

“What is this?” he asked, amazed.

“Tea. It comes from the sanctuaries of my home, Neyal. The last I have," a corner of her lip turned upward.

“Can you make more?” he looked up at her.She shook her head sending the blond chunks swinging.

“I have tried, but it is not where my talent lies.”

Too bad; healing tea would be a great boon to the Magi.

He flexed his muscles, slowly. Dull pain seemed to emanate from everywhere. It's bearable though. Jaob hobbled from his prone position, the sudden relief from his stomach cheering him into unrealistic heights.

"Do not push yourself or the illness will return.

He dismissed her easily. This was the first time in a long time that he felt happy, almost joyful. It lasted almost a full heartbeat, before the sound of feet, rushing past the door flap sparked his concern.

“What is going on?” He halted in his progress to the door, his hand raised to part the skins.

“The Magi are in a panic; they fear retaliation.” She blew out an annoyed breath.

“From the child's clan?” Jaob shook his head. "I frightened them with my magic, the clan is not likely to attack an entire village of Magi. Their superstitions can be counted that far.

“Not from the nomads, from the king. The riders who were nearby to purchase the girl are seeking us. Kordal returned an hour ago announcing that they have a tracker, and he is leading them here.”

Demon's breath. Bloody cursed fool. Though he wasn't sure who he cursed, the scout for starting a panic, or himself for his own stupidiy.

He rushed from the tent, startling a woman outside. Kierra hadn't been joking; the Magi were in a state of disorganized chaos. A few still tended to chores, the youth, at least, watered the mice; but most stood at the center of the village near his dwelling, pacing or arguing with one another.

“Jaob!” Lon spotted him at last. “Thank God! I can't stand much more of this nonsense. I told them to wait until you had awoken...but Kordal, the demon cursed fool—”

“How long do we have? Did Kordal say?” Jaob interrupted

“A little more than a day. Your winds make the tracking difficult.”

“Gather the warriors at the scout tent. It is time for a proper meeting.”

“Of course.” Lon bowed respectfully and left.

Apprehension twisted inside Jaob, threatening to bring back the nausea. All the trouble the rescue caused, all the attempts to remain unnoticed by the king, all for nothing now. He stood by the healer's tent with his thoughts, not wanting the confrontation appearing at his own tent would cause. When he could dally no longer he skirted around to the scout's tent.

“Shall we begin evacuation?” Lon stood near the tent's flap, tapping the sheath at his side. He peered through the crack Jaob created as he stepped inside.

The Magi warriors had gathered sensibly, calmer than the herders and women who were unused to such close contact with battle, though long looks of resignation passed between them.

Jaob kept his face firm and serious. Men looked for leadership now, not doubt. Despite the precarious position New Hope floundered in. The wrong decision now would cost lives. Demon shit, the right decision would likely cost lives. Jaob was inclined to panic himself.

"The injured will be unable to travel; Kierra has two men, a woman in labor and the girl-child in the healer's tent at present. We cannot just abandon them,” Bane spoke. Silence descended at his words.

Jaob pushed away the jealous admiration he felt. Leadership fell naturally to some men, without having to work for it. A grace one could not learn, no matter their effort. Thankfully Bane proved sensible. In truth, without Bane's council and support, Jaob wasn't much of a leader at all. But he wanted to be. And to be a good leader, it was important he made the right decisions. Especially now.

“How long before they discover New Hope?” Jaob turned his gaze pointedly to Kordal. The man jumped, and lowered his eyes.

“A day...maybe a day and a half.”

Jaob nodded, the beginnings of a plan coming to mind. “How many warriors would you need to confuse the trail, brush away our tracks and create new ones?”

The scout perked up, eager to redeem himself.“Four, maybe five.”

Jaob pointed to five of New Hope's fastest riders. “Go, and throw that tracker off of our trail. The rest of you, prepare for evacuation, but do not let them panic, it is a last alternative.”

The men filed out before him, none questioning the wisdom of his directions, until all had left but Bane.

“As a tracker myself, it would have been wise to send me, as well.” The soft words filtered from the back of the tent, where Bane remained, watching him closely.

“I know, dear friend, but I fear I will need you here.”