“It’s my ankle.” She leaned forward to touch it, and groaned. “I twisted it badly, I’m afraid.”
“I’ll carry you home—” He reached for her.
“No, just … please … I wish to sit here for a time. You may return to your duties. I’ll be along as soon as I’m able.”
“But”—his brows slanted down—“Blessed Night Sun, it is not safe for someone of your status to be out alone at night. The Mogollon dogs are raiding. They might be anywhere.”
“Yes, well,” she said in exasperation, “if they kill me tonight, at least I won’t have to go home.”
Ironwood peered at her a moment, then looked away. “May I escort you to another town? A—a more pleasant place?”
He must have overheard her argument with Crow Beard. But then, who hadn’t? As War Chief, Ironwood would have been standing guard on the roof near the entry. Not only must he have heard the argument, he’d doubtless seen her run away … and followed, staying far enough away to grant her privacy, and close enough to help if she unwittingly found danger.
She rubbed her ankle. “No, thank you.”
He sat down in the grass beside her. Apparently, try as she might, he wasn’t going to leave.
Ironwood stared off into the distance, examining the flickering fires and the uneven line of the dark cliffs, gazing anywhere but at her. She saw him wet his lips nervously. He looked a little frightened.
“Scared?” she asked.
“Hmm?” He turned to frown at her.
“I’d be scared if I were you.”
“Would you?”
“Why, yes. You’re in a bad position out here. My husband accuses me of dallying with one of his warriors, and then you wind up in the middle of nowhere with me—alone.”
“But I can’t just leave you out here, Blessed Night Sun. Much better that I stay to protect you than run the risk of having you killed by our enemies.”
“That would reflect badly on you, wouldn’t it?”
A wry eyebrow lifted. “I believe there are some who might hold it against me.”
“But if my husband finds out—”
“People will be Singing about my courage long after I’m dead.”
Night Sun blinked, then she laughed. Ironwood grinned in response, his white teeth shining in the darkness. How good it felt to laugh. She hadn’t really laughed in a long time, not since before this insanity with Crow Beard began. She felt deeply grateful to this young man for a few instants of relief.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Your servant, Matron.”
Night Sun’s smile dwindled. She expelled a worried breath. Though she wished to stay, she knew she’d better not. For his sake.
“Well, if you will help me up, I’ll try to walk home.” She struggled to get her feet under her.
Ironwood rose, slipped his hands beneath her arms, and pulled her to her feet. Her injured ankle gave way the moment she put weight on it, and she fell against him with a small cry. He clutched her tightly, holding her up.
Perhaps it was the comforting strength of his arms, or just the feel of another human body against hers, but all of the weariness from the long birthing, mixed with the worry about Crow Beard, flooded to the surface, and she started to cry. She buried her face against his shoulder to hide her embarrassment.
He said nothing, just stroked her back until her weeping subsided. Then he stepped away and laid a gentle hand against her hair, anxiously studying her face. “Are you all right?”
“Of course not,” she said sharply. “I can’t walk!”
“Here,” he said, and turned sideways. “I think if you’ll slip your left arm over my shoulders, I can get you home without too much trouble.”
Night Sun did. He gripped her left hand with his and slowly started forward. On the way, they’d laughed …
“No, Ironwood,” Sternlight whispered harshly, the sound of his voice cleaving her from those sweet memories. “Don’t you … witches fly about spying on people! Perhaps … saw something…”
Night Sun drew her warm blankets up around her throat and shivered, struggling to return to seventeen summers before, concentrating on the feel of Ironwood’s body against hers.
Sleep lurked just beyond the edges of her awareness. She let it creep into her thoughts, twining itself around her soul, drowning out the external voices.
Across a gulf of time, Ironwood smiled at her. Happy. Laughing …
Third Day
Misty rain falls.
I lift my face and open my mouth, letting coolness coat my tongue. Gray clouds huddle above me. As sparkles fall from their bellies, they twist in the wind, flash and tumble. Their voices are silken. The fragrance of damp stone and earth encircles me. I was desperately hungry earlier, but now my body seems to float above this shallow wash like a wisp of cloud.