A Court of Illyrian Hearts

Chapter Two

I wake up on a hard bed in a dim room. For a moment I think I am still in the mountain but when I take a deep breath, the air is fresher, and that stuffy mountain smell is gone.

As I try to get up from the bed, shooting pains all over my body stop me, and it is only after my breathing has evened out that I remember what had happened that last day in the mountain. I remember the last warrior I fought.

I wonder if he would have made it out if I hadn't killed him.

Shoving the thought away, I slowly get into a sitting position on the bed, my legs swung over the edge.

A look around the room tells me that I am in a healer's cabin. Herbs hang from the roof and ointments are sitting on the counters of cupboards; no doubt containing more medicine. A pile of bloody bandages is on the small table next to my bed, covered in what I assume is my blood.

I look down at my right arm, wrapped tightly in a bandage, and probably stitched up from the thin line of blood running down the length of where the cut is.

My stomach is also wrapped up in bandages and probably stitched up too, but the line of blood is much wider.

Everything hurts.

Just as I am contemplating getting up, the door opens and the healer walks in.

'Glad to see you're finally awake.' He says.

'How long have I been out for?' I ask, not entirely ready for the answer.

'Two days, slipping in and out of consciousness. You were badly injured.'

I take in a breath. Did I push myself too far competing in the Rite? Was the Illyrian War Camp really no place for a woman? But the question that dominated all the others was, now that I have completed the Rite, will I survive the rest of the camp?

'My name is Jahran,' he says, pulling me from my thoughts.

'Baelyn,' I say and extend my left hand towards him unable to lift my right one.

He shakes my hand then starts to renew my bandages. I cringe at the state of my wounds. The areas around the wounds are red and look infected; dried blood flaking around the stitches.

Jahran takes an ointment from one of the counters and starts applying it across the stitches.

I hiss as it sinks into my skin, burning like hell.

After wrapping me up again in fresh bandages he gets a glass out of one of the cupboards and fills it with water. Then he takes three leaves from one of the hanging herbs and drops it into the water. It dissolves immediately and he gives it to me to drink.

It burns all down my throat and makes me want to throw up, but I drink it all.

'I have been requested to take you to General Devlon's cabin as soon as you are able,' Jahran informs me.

I snort putting the empty glass down.

Devlon despises Illyrian females; I'm no exception. I've been made to work twice as hard as the men in the camp and wouldn't have been allowed to participate in the Rite if there wasn't a law saying that all those who were old enough and had trained for long enough had a right to.

'I suppose he isn't happy that I've been out of it for two days, since it's delayed his scolding.' I say.

Jahran doesn't reply. I sigh through my nose. Better get this over with.

'I'm ready.' I say and slowly get up from the bed.

Jahran offers his arm for support but I don't take it. I can handle a bit more pain. It might clear my head for the meeting.