The Reader

Chapter Seven - Aftermath

Chapter Seven.

Kallista stirred and groaned. She tried to marshal her eyelids to open, but they didn't obey. Instead she explored her surroundings with her other senses. The earth below her was hard and baked hot by the sun, which beat down on her from above. It smelt like a clay oven, a scent which reminded Kallista painfully of her childhood.

She could hear to her right sounds of activity: footsteps thudding against the ground, low voices, a crackle that sounded familiar, but that she couldn't quite recognise. A gentle breeze fanned her face, bringing with it a disgusting, sickly sweet stench. Kallista wrinkled her nose, then groaned as the motion sent a sharp bolt of pain thudding through her head.

"Hey, this one's still alive!"

The call came from quite close by and frightened Kallista with its suddenness. More footsteps thudding, this time in her direction, then rough hands grabbed her uniform and turned her over.

"Gyurel scum! What did you -".

" 'Ey! 'Old up there 'Arry! 'S a woman."

"Oh. Well, blow me down, it is, too. Give us a hand then, Lyle."

More hand groping at the black fabric of her tunic. A feeling of weightlessness came to her as they hoisted her limp body aloft and began moving somewhere. The sunlight pierced her eyelids, making her wince.

"Good one, 'Arry. Yer hurtin' the poor darlin' ".

"Shut up."

" 'Ey! Wha's a woman doin' in 'ere anyways?"

"Remember the runaway cart from yesterday? Before those damn Gyurelians attacked us?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm bettin' she was the one in it."

"Yer kiddin'!"

"Nope."

"Cross yer 'eart?"

"Lyle, I swear it on my mother's grave."

There was a brief silence and Kallista knew they were both looking at her. She thought about moving, but before she could make up her mind the sun suddenly left her face and the mens' boots clomped onto wood.

"Got a live one fer ya', doc'."

"Put him over there."

"It's a 'her', Gil."

"A her?!"

More footsteps. Kallista was really getting tired of all the surprise she was causing. Time to wake up.

With great effort she forced her eyes open, an involuntary groan escaping her lips as pain thudded behind her eyes. Her watery gaze was met with the concerned stares of three men, all three looking tremendously taken aback.

"All ... alright. Bring her over here," the doctor, a short, thickset man with black hair, said.

They carried her into another room, an empty one with just one bed. Someone's chain-mail and sword-belt, with the weapon still in the scabbard, lay discarded in a corner. The men laid Kallista gently on the covers, the straw mattress feeling like a feather bed after the hard earth. She sighed with delight.

The two soldiers left the room, only the doctor remaining. He leant over Kallista, frowning in a concerned sort of way, and she saw blood-stains splattered across his white tunic. Sudden fear struck her, where was Merric? Then she caught herself and scowled for being so concerned about a soldier she'd only just met. In fact, if it hadn't of been for him she might have escaped and would be leagues away from here, not lying on this bed with a head that felt like a warhorse had kicked it.