Page 52 of Boundless
The knot in his chest loosened, and he sagged back into his chair, letting his grip on Gayeh’s hands slip. “I’m g-glad you’re not upset,” he managed, taking another drink of his cooling tea to steady himself. “I am to be glad that you are in my life,”he tried in Draka, certain that something in there wasn’t quite right.
“I am glad,”she corrected. “You don’t need ‘to be’. And I am glad to have you in my life and in my family, Len. Are you hungry?”
Len nodded, smiling. Beyond the open tent flap he saw that the sun was dipping towards the horizon; it was time for dinner. Daega had spent the day with her sisters, catching up, and had said she’d meet him at the mess tent about now.
They rose, downing the rest of their tea and bringing the empty cups with to clean them. They continued to chat in Draka, Len’s ears hot with how badly he mangled the language, but his heart light and calm.
“AN’ DO YEhev enough o’ th’ tea, princeling?” Yollyn asked, already heading over to her enormous herb cabinet to rifle through it. “A’ve plenty if ye daenae.”
“Oh! Um, I th-think so, but p-perhaps a bit more? So I don’t have to bother you again so s-soon.” Len flushed, feeling awkward about having to take Yollyn away from her patients and, worse, from private time with Maleom. He felt less uncomfortable about today’s visit, at least, because getting a tincture to ease nausea for his pregnant wife felt far more worth the older woman’s time.
“Bah!” Yollyn said, waving dismissively. “Ye an’ A both ken this is fur yer lady-love. Pregnancy is hard on th’ body, and ye’re no’ so well yerself, aye?”
His flush deepened with shame. “I know. But I’m t-trying.”
“Tryin’ tae best mother nature? ‘At old cunt?” Yollyn barked a laugh, shaking her head. “If she were good a’ her job th’ gods wouldnae hev reason to gift oos with herbcraft an’ magic.” She studied him, her hands on her hips. “Ye’ve some talent for magecraft, aye, boy-o?”
Len chose to ignore her blasphemy. “Um, y-yes. I picked some healing magic up be-because of my condition.”
“Hev ye studied proper? Wi’ a master?”
“No. No one really had the t-time to teach a young b-boy something so difficult.”
“Weel ‘at settles it—yer studying wi’ me and ma brood, princeling. A’ve an apprentice already who’s here half th’ week, starting tomorrow. And there’s Sercha on th’ north end o’ camp—no’ yer sister, this’n’s older’n me—an’ Gero is th’ ainlie male in th’ horde who heals. Quiet lad, but knows his stuff.”
“Oh! Th-that’s very kind of you, but I’d hate to intrude. You all have m-much more pressing tasks than teaching me—”
“Nonsense!” Yollyn glared at him, stopping his protests cold. “A’ll write the others letters t’ explain an’ smooth yer way, ye timid thing.” She smiled then, her handsome face creasing with proof that no matter how harsh she sounded, she smiled often. She clomped over to her desk, scribbling out notes on two scraps of paper and then handing them to him.
The handwriting was so messy and erratic that he had no idea if she’d written them in Draka or Common, but he took the notes gratefully and tucked them into his pocket. Yollyn packed up his tea and nausea medicine, urging him to visit the other healers today because he’d “wasted enough time”, in her words.
He took his leave, bowing and trying not to blush too hard, then returned to the tent he shared with Dae. His poor love was laid out on the bed, moaning and sweating and clinging to a basin.
“Thank the gods,” she croaked, her eye cracking open to watch him. “Did she have it?”
“She did. Can you s-sit up, dearest?” He rushed to her side, helping her prop herself up enough to down the tincture. She sagged back onto the mattress as soon as she’d finished swallowing.
“Vitrin’s mercy, that’sfoul. Can you hand me a glass of water, love?”
“Of course!” He hurried to fetch it, sitting on the bed and getting her back up to drink. “Yollyn told me I should study with her and the other healers,” he blurted as she sipped. He wanted to, but he couldn’t shake the worry that he was being greedy; perhaps Daega would have more insight for him.
“Did she really?” she cried, looking impressed. “That old crone is hard to impress. What did you do?”
“N-nothing!”
“Hm. Maybe she’s just in a good mood now that she’s getting plowed regularly,” Daega mused, sipping more of her water, ignoring how her husband choked and sputtered. “When do you start?”
“You think I should do it?” he asked, tugging at the hem of his sleeve.
“Of course I do, you mad thing!” she cried, arching her brow at him. “Why wouldn’t you?” She belched, wincing and patting her stomach. “Excuse me, dove. I think that helped, though.”
He smiled, relieved she was feeling better. “W-well, I suppose…I worry I’ll take up t-too much of their time. That I’ll—I’ll bother them.” Before he’d even finished speaking he could see how ridiculous she thought that was.
She reached out and combed her fingers through his hair, tickling his scalp and the nape of his neck and making him shiver. “Len, my dear, sweet pet,” she began, belching again. “Sorry. Anyway, I want you to think this through with me, alright?” He nodded. “Alright. So, you went there to get medicine for me. Did you bring up learning more healing?”
“No, she did.”
“So what would that mean, if the positions were reversed?”
