Page 101 of The Turncoat King
She stood for a moment, pack in hand, considering her options. Eventually she set her things beside his bed, on the side she favored, took out her knitting, and went to find a campfire to sit at.
She found one where a man was working on some leather boots, another was whittling a stick, and a few women sat companionably darning rips in their clothing. Oscar was there, too, sharpening the knife he wore on his belt.
He patted the spot beside him and she settled down to a warm welcome from the others. She let the conversation and the crackle of the fire soothe her, along with the click of her needles.
She was invisible here. Or unremarkable.
She was grateful for some space to concentrate on the tunic for Luc. She wove impenetrability into every stitch she knit, every twist of the work. Nothing would get through this.
And it was almost done. Just a few more rows and she’d only have to sew the pieces together.
“Ava. There you are.”
She looked up in surprise as Frederik stopped in front of her and then sat beside her.
“Look.” He pointed to his face.
The stitches she’d put there had been taken out, most likely by Dorea, and the wound was just a thin white line on his warm brown skin.
She leaned closer for a better look. Her relief that there was an actual scar made her feel a little giddy. “That looks good.”
“It’s barely noticeable. Dorea says she’s never seen the like. Never seen anyone heal so fast.” He rubbed it. “I can’t even feel it’s there, so thank you. But the reason I came looking for you is that Revek asked me to find you and bring you to him.”
Ava went still. “Is he all right?”
“He’s fine. He had to do something for the Commander, and didn’t know where you were so I said I’d find you and take you to him.”
Ava packed away her knitting reluctantly, and stood. “Where is he?”
“The armoury tent. It’s not far.”
“Would you like me to come with you?” Oscar had been silent through the conversation with Frederik, and the young soldier seemed to start at his words, as if he hadn’t noticed the warrior’s presence.
“No need, Oscar, but thank you.” Ava couldn’t feel anything off about Frederik. Her new cloak may not be as sensitive as her old one, but there wasn’t even the smallest of warnings.
Revek might be a different story, but she would deal with that when she had to.
She walked with Frederik, listening to him recount the training session he’d had that day, and laughing at his enthusiasm.
“Here we are.” He waved toward a large, open tent which had a hot fire burning in front of it, and a man and a woman dressed in leather aprons working with hammer and tong.
She supposed their work day could only start when the column stopped and they could build a fire hot enough to repair damaged weapons and create items the stores manager needed.
Revek sat on a stool at the back of the tent, surrounded by crates, a wooden board with parchment clipped to it in his hand.
“I’ve got guard duty, so I’m off. Thanks again.” Frederik tapped his cheek and then turned and walked away.
Revek had seen them arrive, and he watched her as she skirted the weapons smiths and approached him.
“You ever heard of someone who healed so fast?” he asked her, tilting his head in Frederik’s direction. “The boy barely looks like he got scratched by a tree branch.”
She didn’t answer.
“Me, on the other hand.” Revek pulled the neck of his tunic to the side, exposing the wound high on his left shoulder. “Why, I might have actually been hit by an arrow. Two months ago.”
Ava came closer to look at it.
It did seem less healed than Frederik’s, but not by much. It would end up looking very similar.
