Warrior, Renewed: Book Two of the Comhairle Chronicles

Chapter Nine: Sons of Lùisaidh

The spray of warm water eased Eallair's tension, even though he knew he shouldn't stay in the shower for too much longer. The dressings which covered his war wounds were supposed to be waterproof, but he didn't want to push his luck. Still, as steam billowed around him and the water poured over his back and shoulders, he felt a little more relaxed than he had at any point since his conversation with Tancred. He'd spent a restless day dwelling without sleep, then at dusk had answered Jäger's review questions as monosyllabically as possible, not really feeling in the mood for conversation.

"On a scale of one to ten, how is your pain?"

"Four."

"Do you want any painkillers?"

"No."

"Any light-headedness? Dizziness? Blurred vision?"

"No."

"Any difficulty breathing?"

"No."

"Any palpitations?"

"No."

"Do you have any questions about your treatment or care going forward."

"No."

"Can you say anything other than 'No'?"

"No."

"Do you want me to leave you be?"

"Yes."

It hadn't been the politest conversation he'd ever had with anyone, and after an hour of growing ever more guilty, he'd called the physician back to apologise... Right before requesting to escape the medical suite. Jäger hadn't been thrilled to hear he wanted to leave, but as all of his patients were beginning to kick up a fuss he'd had little recourse but to have them all fill out 'Against Medical Advisement' forms and promise to come back if any further symptoms developed.

Eallair left the medical suite as quickly as possible, heading up to the first floor in the hope of tracking down Aodh, wanting to know which room he would be moving into. The captains had all been in a meeting, unfortunately, but he found a gaggle of trainees clustered around a notice board in the castle's entrance hall, busily jotting down each others' room numbers from a list of pinned there. Thank the gods for Aodh's forward planning. He memorised his room number, then headed up the grand staircase onto the second floor, hoping he could hibernate for the rest of the day and avoid all other living creatures.

Sadly, he also checked his mobile, discovering that he couldn't avoid all life on earth. The message from Ealasaid made him feel dirty; like a traitor, because Tor's sister hadn't wanted him to tell Tor that she kept messaging, and in all honesty he wasn't sure telling him would have been the right move anyway, not when his brother was finally free and happy. He read the message all the same.

Update? Is he still alright?

What did she want him to say? Yes, Tor had come into his own, happier than she and her family had ever let him be? Or would it sate some vindictive desire for revenge if something bad befell him?

Ealasaid. As I said last time, he is fine. He is where he wants to be.

He barely placed his phone on the bedside cabinet when it gave another plaintive bleep.

I know that, Eallair, but despite what you and he think, I do actually care. He saved my life.

A snort escaped him at that and his second reply sounded even less polite than his first.

He shouldn't have needed to go to war to earn your interest. He was always worthy of your care. You're putting me in an awful situation by contacting me and asking me not to tell him. My loyalty is to him, not you. I won't do this forever. If you truly care, then you need to build a bridge with him, not me.