"I don't know why," his uncle's voice rumbled from a bed nearby. "She bent over me and I thought she was going to cut my throat. Then she crafted the wound shut instead. Said she didn't want me to bleed to death."
Amara's voice held a frown. "Did she say anything?"
"Yes. To tell Isana that they were even."
Tavi sat up and looked around. His uncle sat in the bed beside him, white bandages wrapped around him from where his belly showed at the
edge of the sheets to under his arms. He looked pale, and bruises marred his shoulders and half of his face, but he smiled when he saw Tavi. "Well, well. We thought you'd sleep forever."
Tavi let out a glad cry and threw himself across the space of beds at his uncle, hugging him tightly.
Bernard laughed. "Careful, careful. I'm delicate." His arms folded around Tavi and hugged him back. "Good to see you, boy."
Amara, dressed in a blouse and skirts of rich brown, smiled at him. "Hello, Tavi."
He flashed the Cursor a smile and looked back at Bernard. "But how?" Tavi asked. "How did you live?"
"Odiana," Bernard said. "That water witch that attacked you in the river. Your aunt saved her from being killed by Kord. She was hiding among the corpses at the base of the wall. She saved me. Fade, too."
Tavi shook his head. "I don't care who did it, as long as you're all right."
Bernard laughed again. "What I am," he said, "is hungry. You?"
Tavi's stomach grew queasy. "Not yet, Uncle."
Amara turned to a pitcher nearby and poured water into a cup for Tavi, handing it to him. "Drink up. Once you get liquid back in you, you'll be hungry, right enough."
Tavi nodded his thanks to her and drank. His hand, the one that had been broken, felt a little weak, and he switched the cup to the other. "You're all right, too?"
She smiled, a wan expression. "Alive. Some scars. I'll be all right."
"I'm sorry," Tavi said. "I lost the dagger."
Amara shook her head. "You've nothing to be sorry for, Tavi. You stood against two men who have killed more people between them than anyone I know of. It was very brave. You shouldn't feel ashamed for not getting the dagger."
"But without it, Aquitaine gets away with it. You can't prove he's guilty, right?"
Amara frowned. "I'd be careful what I said, if I were you, Tavi. If someone overhears you, you may face prosecution yourself for slander."
"But it's the truth!"
She half-smiled. "Not without the dagger. Without that, it's just a suspicion."
Tavi frowned. "That's stupid."
Amara laughed, a sudden, bright sound. "Yes," she agreed. "But look at it this way. You saved the Valley and who knows how many steadholts beyond it. You're a hero."
Tavi blinked. "Uh. I am?"
Amara nodded, her expression grave. "I filed my report yesterday. The First Lord himself is coming out tomorrow to present several people with rewards for their courage."
Tavi shook his head. "I'm not very courageous. I don't feel like a hero."
Amara's eyes sparkled. "Perhaps you will, later."
Isana walked briskly into the room, wearing fresh clothing and a crisp apron. "Tavi," she said, her tone brisk. "Get back into bed this instant."
Tavi leapt for the covers.
Isana frowned at Bernard. "And you. Bernard, you know I told you to make the boy stay in bed."
He grinned, sheepishly. "Oh, right."
Isana stepped over to her brother and touched his temples. "Hmph. Well you're not going to cause chaos in here any longer. Get your lazy bones out of bed and go eat."
Bernard grinned and leaned forward, giving Isana a kiss on the forehead. "Whatever the watercrafter orders."
"Bah. Amara, are you still feeling well? No fever, no nausea?"
Amara shook her head, smiling, and turned her back tactfully when Bernard rose to pull on his trousers and a loose tunic, moving stiffly. "I'm fine, Mistress Isana. You did a wonderful job."
"Good. Now get out. The boy needs to rest."
Bernard smiled and ruffled Tavi's hair. Then he stepped up beside Amara and took her hand. The Cursor blinked and looked down at his hand, then back up at his face. She smiled, and her cheeks flushed with color.
"Oh go on," Isana said, and slapped Bernard's shoulder. He grinned, and the two walked out of the room. They weren't walking very quickly, Tavi noticed. And they walked very close together.
Isana turned to Tavi and put her fingers on his temples, then smiled at him. "How are you feeling?"
"Thirsty, ma'am."
She smiled and refilled his cup. "I was so worried. Tavi, I'm so proud of what you have done. Everyone in the Valley thinks you're quite the young hero."
Tavi blinked at her and sipped at his drink. "Do I… you know. Have to do anything? Learn to make speeches or something?"
She laughed and kissed his forehead. "Just rest. You're a brave person, Tavi, and you think about others more than yourself, when hard times come. Always remember who you are." She rose. "There are some visitors coming, but I don't want you to talk to them for very long. Drink your water and then get some more sleep. I'll bring up some food later this evening, when you're ready."
"Yes, ma'am," Tavi said. He watched her walk toward the door, and just before she left, he asked her, "Aunt Isana? Who is Araris Valerian?"
Isana stopped in the doorway, frowning. She drew a breath. "He… he was one of the royal guardsmen. One of Princeps Septimus's personal bodyguards. A famous swordsman."
"Did he die with the Princeps?"
She turned to face him and said, very quietly, very firmly, "Yes, Tavi. He died. Fifteen years ago. Do you understand?"
"But-"
"Tavi." Isana sighed. "I need you to trust me. Please, Tavi. Just for a little while."
He swallowed and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
Isana smiled at him, wearily. "Here are your visitors. Remember, don't talk for too long."
She slipped out. A moment later, Doroga ducked his head to slip beneath the doorway and strode into the room. The huge Marat headman was dressed in his loincloth, together with a cloak with a mantle of thanadent feathers and a garish, pale red tunic. Aleran boots dangled in his belt, though his own feet were bare, and rings decorated every finger. His left arm was in a sling, swollen and discolored, but he seemed in good spirits and smiled at Tavi, moving to his bed and crushing his hand in a friendly, monstrous grip.
Behind him walked Kitai, scowling, dressed in a loincloth and wearing an Aleran tunic carelessly stained with food and dirt. Her long, pale hair had been pulled back into a neat braid, revealing the delicate curves of her cheekbones and neck.
"Well, young warrior," Doroga said. "I have paid you back for saving my whelp-"
"Daughter," Kitai interjected. "I am not a whelp anymore, father."
"Daughter," Doroga rumbled, with an expansive smile. "You saved my daughter, and I paid you back for it. But then you saved me as well. I find myself still in your debt."
"I didn't do anything," Tavi said.
"You shouted a warning to me, Tavi," Doroga said. "Without it, I would have died." He squeezed Tavi's shoulders, and Tavi briefly thought something was going to break again. "Thank you."
"But what I did was small. You're the one who did all the big things. You led a horde against another horde, sir. A horde of your own people."
"I set out to repay my debt to you," Doroga said. "Finish what you set out to do. It is part of being a man." Doroga smiled at him and rose. "Kitai."
Kitai scowled.
Doroga frowned at her.
Kitai rolled her eyes and snapped, to Tavi, "Thank you. For saving my life."
Tavi blinked mildly at her. "Um. Sure."
She narrowed her eyes. "Don't think I'm going to forget it, either."
Tavi thought that it sounded a great deal more like a threat than a promise. "Uh. No. I don't think that."