“Come on,” he said, offering his hand. “Let’s get you something to eat.”
After they’d eaten and prepared for travel, Jerico pondered their destination. He’d originally meant to go after Lord Arthur, and do what he could to break the siege. But now?
“We need to find a stronger healer,” Jerico said as he scattered their fire with his foot. “A priest, maybe even a wizard. Whatever has infected that wound, be it a curse or spell, might be familiar to someone with a better background in the arcane.”
Sandra put her hands on her stomach and nodded. He’d wrapped it tight with clean bandages, but it still looked like it bothered her. He felt so helpless. How was it he could heal broken bones, but a single stab wound defeated him so?
“I thought you were heading toward the Castle of Caves,” she said.
“That was before.”
“I told you, I’ll be fine. I just need some time. I promised to be no burden, and I won’t have you changing your plans now.”
Jerico shook his head.
“I won’t…”
“Won’t what?” she asked, stepping face to face with him. “Watch me die? Is that what you think will happen?”
He looked away, and that was answer enough.
“We could go back the way we came,” he offered. “Bellok might know a way…”
She was crying, but she let none of it affect her voice as she shook her head.
“I’d be dead already if not for you,” she said. “I’m not going back. You may doubt, but I trust you. I’ve seen what you can do. Whatever this is, you’re stronger. We’re going on, to where you’re needed most. All right?”
“Yes milady.”
She smiled, stood on her toes so she could kiss his lips. Jerico smiled back, but there was little joy in it. He’d seen the grimace that flashed across her face when she stepped away. He saw how blood was already starting to seep through the bandages around her waist.
“Let her live,” Jerico whispered as she led the way west. “Otherwise you’re going to have one pissed off paladin to deal with when I walk through your gates.”
Jerico followed Sandra, wondering what his teachers at the Citadel would have said upon hearing him issuing threats to his own deity. He had a feeling they would have been amused.
They walked for several hours, often stopping to rest. When they ate at midday, Sandra only nibbled on the hard bread. The lack of appetite worried Jerico, but he said nothing. They continued on, their pace growing slower with each mile. Jerico prayed over Sandra’s wound, and when it showed only marginal improvement, he said nothing, only accepted her thanks with a smile.
The day wore on, and they passed field after field. When they saw a distant farmstead, Jerico led them there. He saw many children working the fields, and the first to see him bowed low, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head.
“Are you a paladin?” the boy asked. He looked like he was nine at most.
“I am,” he said, smiling. “Is your pa about?”
The boy nodded.
“I’ll get him.”
He ran off. Jerico took Sandra by the hand and led her toward the farmhouse.
“We’re fine on food,” she said, but she sounded distant.
“That’s not why we’re here.”
They reached the home, but stopped when they heard a man call a greeting from the fields. Jerico turned, then bowed low to a man who looked to be on the verge of his fiftieth birthday. His skin was tanned from many hours spent in the sun, and his back was stuck in a stoop, but he moved easily enough, and when he shook Jerico’s hand, his grip was strong.
“Welcome,” said the man. His demeanor was friendly, but Jerico sensed the apprehension hidden behind it. After all, here he was, a simple farmer greeting an armed stranger wearing platemail.
“Forgive us for intruding,” Jerico said. He kept his tone warm and hoped the farmer would realize he meant no harm.
“No intrusion,” said the farmer. “My name’s Cobb Williams. What can I do for you? If it is food you want, I have a bit to sell, though I’m not in the way of much else.”
“This is Sandra, and my name is Jerico.” He debated a moment, then added, “Of the Citadel.”
Cobb’s eyes widened a moment, and then he grinned.
“Gods be good, you telling the truth? My oldest joined up with that bandit, Kaide, and came limping back from the Green Gulch with fewer fingers and a lot more sense. Mind if I see that shield of yours? He’s always talking about it.”
Jerico obliged, pulling his shield from his back and holding it before him. Light shone across its surface. Cobb reached out to touch it.
“It safe?” he asked, just before making contact.
“Depends how dark your heart is.”
Cobb laughed.
“Perhaps I better not,” he said, pulling back his hand. “I’m a simple man working the fields, but I know when not to press my luck. Please, come inside. I can get my wife to make you all a fine meal, and perhaps you can tell me how the battle at the Gulch really went. Never know if my son’s speaking truth or telling tales, if you get my meaning.”
Jerico glanced at Sandra. He’d planned to buy a horse, even a donkey, so long as Sandra would have something to ride. No matter how much she might deny it, he knew the lengthy walks were aggravating her wound. Yet her skin had grown pale, and he doubted they could go much further that day. Perhaps eating some fresh food and sleeping in a comfortable bed would do her good.
“Our food has been poor, and rationed,” Jerico said, returning his shield to its spot on his back. “I hope you understand what you’re offering.”
Cobb grinned.
“Mister, you won’t eat more than what my Debra can cook. When you feed as many mouths as we do, two more don’t matter much.”
They entered into a large family room, which looked to take up more than half the house. Cobb left them there to talk with Debra. Their furnishings were meager, but Sandra sat on a cushioned chair, closed her eyes, and slowly rocked.
“Are you all right?” Jerico asked her.
“That’s a stupid question, even for you.”
She smiled, and even with her eyes closed, she looked so beautiful. Jerico’s hatred grew in his heart at what Valessa had done. He knew his hatred was wrong, that it went against all he believed…but damn it, sometimes it seemed so appropriate.
Debra came to greet them, wiping her hands on her apron. She was as worn and tanned as her husband, though she looked to be a good ten years younger. Jerico took her hand, bowed on one knee, and kissed her knuckles. Debra giggled as if she were but a young girl yet to leave her father’s home.
“You’re just like Jeb described,” she said. “Be honored if you stayed at least a night. We don’t hear much beyond our neighbors, and they’d rather talk about the harvest than what the Hemman brothers are up to.”
She turned her attention to Sandra, and her giddiness vanished, replaced with a distinctly motherly attitude.
“Are you feeling fine, dear?”
“Just a little ill, that is all,” Sandra said. “Honest.”
“This is Sandra Goldflint,” Jerico said. “Kaide Goldflint’s sister.”
That raised some eyebrows, but the couple held their questions as to why she was there, traveling with Jerico instead of her brother. Sandra kept silent, and soon she slept.
“It has been a long trek,” Jerico said.
“The road is hard on everyone,” Cobb agreed, and let the matter drop.
Come dinner, the whole family gathered. The room was cramped, but none were willing to eat outside or in a different room, not with Jerico there to entertain. Jerico counted four sons and one daughter. The oldest looked to be in his late teens, and was already married. They also lived there on the farmland, though Cobb insisted the boy would soon have land and a house of his own. Hardly a year separated him from the second oldest brother, Jeb, the one who had joined Kaide’s army when the bandit leader had gone recruiting on his way to join Arthur Hemman’s army. Truth be told, Jerico didn’t recognize him at all. He’d been just one of many amid the battle.