Empire of Ashes

Chapter XXI - Sink or Swim

It was a girl. A golden-haired, blue-eyed girl. Possibly the most dangerous girl I had ever met. I looked from her to Temris, and the resemblance was enough to take my breath away. This must be the sister who was supposed to be a hundred leagues away.

I could see countless questions in Temris's eyes, but he just wrapped her in a hug. Armour and all, they embraced with evident relief. Now, the younger one had removed his helmet to reveal an identical mop of golden hair. That must be Glyn, the eleven-year-old little brother, and I had to admit he had guts.

"Damnation, Sami. I told you to stay in Sierra," Temris hissed at her the second she released him.

"And when have I ever listened to you?" she retorted.

The warriors shuffled nervously, obviously a little embarrassed that they had threatened the Ragnyr's sister. In truth, it had been an easy mistake to make when she was wearing Sihon armour. They distracted themselves with looting the corpses, muttering to each other and bickering over the spoils.

It was Anlai's turn for a hug next, while Temris faced Glyn with a small smile. The boy didn't return it. He turned away to deal with his horse, completely ignoring his brother. What was that about?

"What's with the get-up?" Fendur asked what everyone else had been wondering.

Samira shrugged carelessly. "Ran into a few raiders on the way out of Sierra. Their clothes were a useful disguise — people down here don't tend to pick fights with Sihons. They don't tend to pick fights with anyone at all."

I cleared my throat pointedly. Samira turned her sapphire eyes to me and a faint smile appeared.

"I stand corrected. Your arrow saved my life," she said, offering me a hand. I clasped her forearm in greeting and found that she had a firm grip. Temris watched on warily.

"This is Lyra," he told his sister. "You will have to excuse her — she needs medical attention. Don't think I didn't see those acrobatics."

The blood had yet to seep through my breeches, so I assumed the stitches were intact. He tried to make me sit down, and I shoved him away. "I'm fine. You're not."

There was blood dripping down his arm from below his pauldron. I tugged at his sleeve to search for the source of the problem. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who hated coddling, because Temris shook me off.

"Some Anglian bastard landed a blow while I was turning. Crushed my armour into my skin. It's nothing — won't even need stitches."

"The perils of wearing armour," I muttered wearily.

"It's more perilous not to," Temris assured me. He gave a Fendur a pointed look. "Or so I'm told."

With Rory absent, it fell to Bevan to help him with the leather straps until the damaged shoulder piece was freed. The warlord grimaced at a long, shallow gash surrounded by blotchy bruises. Anlai was chewing his jerky and having a quiet word with Glyn, both of them looking bored by the proceedings.

"See?" he said. "I'll live."

Samira ripped a strip from the edge of her tunic and bound the wound tightly, subsequently ignoring her brother's muttered curses. In my experience, injuries were twice as painful when inflicted with blunt objects, as this had been.

"Stop being a baby," Samira told him bluntly.

Temris made an effort to bite his tongue after that. The rest of the warriors did the same when they received first aid. Injuries were commonplace on the battlefield, and half of them seemed to have some gash or nick.