Young Writers Society

He was awakened by the smell of food cooking. He open his eyes and tried to look around, then groaned as pain flared on his neck, which had been freshly bandaged. The man who was cooking the food turned around. "Good!" He exclaimed. "You're awake!" 

Kovty tried to respond, but he couldn't.

"Don't try to speak." The man said "You won't be able to. I am Ohaz, the healer of this tribe. You're lucky I found you. You were almost dead. Even though, you're wounds might still be beyond my skill to heal. For now, just rest. I'll get you some soup."

Ohaz turned back to the pot he had been stirring. He was a tall man, lean and muscular, though he had a weathered look about him. His skin was darker than Kovty's, and his black hair flowed halfway down his back. He wore robes of a deep red. Those flared around his ankles as he spun back around, holding a bowl of soup in his hand.

"This is my signature recipe." He said as he walked over. "Its made from mountain moss and goat meat." He helped Kovty sit up. Kovty's arms and legs were also covered in bandages, but they didn't hurt nearly as much as his neck. He also felt weak, barely able to lift his arms to recieve the bowl from Ohaz.

"Take it slow when you're eating." Ohaz said

"Swallow carefully."

It took awhile, but Kovty eventually got the soup down. Meanwhile Ohaz filled the silence by talking about his people. Apparently they were some of the last descendants from the Kopin people, and they lived up here where they were completely cut off from other civilizations. They were nomads, traveling from settlement to settlement.

Ohaz himself was the only healer in this tribe, and was one of the few people who left the mountains to buy supplies and other things that the Kopin couldn't make themselves.

"I was on my way back from a supply run," Ohaz said "when I saw you. You were barely breathing, covered in blood. A few more hours, and you would've been past my help. Even so, infection is still a possibility. "

Kovty nodded. Damn, even that hurt.

Ohaz talked for a while longer, during which Kovty gently explored the extent of his wounds. Besides his neck, which hurt with every movement, a few of his ribs were bruised, and he was covered in cuts, bruises, and shallow stab wounds. Some of the spikes had entered his lower chin and cheeks though not as deeply. All of these were expertly bandaged, though some were stained with blood. Ohaz had done a good job, but Kovty would be here for a while before he would be fit to travel. He would have to try to send a message to Dorel to let him know that he was ok. Kovty gently snapped his fingers to get Ohaz's attention, and the man looked up. Kovty pointed to some paper on the mans table, and pantomimed writing. Ohaz nodded, and brought over the paper, along with a pen. Kovty wrote out a request to send a message to his family to let them know that he was alright. He proffered the paper to Ohaz, who read it, then shook his head.

"I'm sorry. I won't be going to any nearby towns soon, nor will anyone else. You'll just have to wait until you're well enough to travel."

Kovty's shoulders slumped. In his profession, a few extra days with no word from him would cause Dorel to assume the worst. And his father... Kovty didn't want to think about what this would do to his father. Even if his father tended to be stoic, they were very close.

Ohaz gently placed his hand on Kovty's shoulder. "I'm sorry. You're best bet is to rest. But since you'll be staying here, what is your name?"

Kovty wrote his name on the paper absentmindedly.

"Kovty?" Ohaz asked. "Am I pronouncing that right? You lowlanders have odd names." Kovty nodded.

"Well, then, Kovty." Ohaz said. "You should rest. It will be a few days until you'll be able to walk around. "

Kovty nodded again. Then he laid back down and went back to sleep.

That night the infection struck.

The next couple of days passed in a feverish haze. Kovty tossed and turned, Ohaz feeding him herbs and placing cool clothes on his head. Kovty's neck burned, and he coughed up blood. At one point he heard Ohaz get up and speak to someone else in the room.

"The infection is beyond my resources to heal. If he is to have any chance at surviving, I will have to take him to the healers in the city."

Kovty couldn't hear the response, but he heard Ohaz start bustling around the house and packing herbs and other supplies. Then Ohaz gently picked Kovty up and carried him out to his wagon.

Kovty tried to groan, but no sound came out. It was hard to breathe, and the jostling of the wagon sent waves of pain up his body. He faded in and out of consciousness as they rode, fever dreams filling his vision.

He had no idea how long they traveled, but eventually Ohaz stopped the wagon, and Kovty heard him talking to someone, then they placed Kovty in a stretcher and carried him inside a stone building. Someone placed a wet cloth on his forehead, but Kovtys vision faded one last time, and darkness claimed him.

........

Kovty startled awake. He tried to sit up and look around, but a wave of dizziness swept over him. A matronly old woman bustled over, placing a hand on his forehead.

"Now, now," she said in a kindly voice. "you're still weak from your fever. Just lay down and I'll get you some tea."

Kovty placed his head back down on his pillow. He was in a hospital room, and he could see other people in beds around the large room.

The healer came bustling back.

"Here you go." She helped him sit up. "It has healing herbs in it that will help your throat. Sip slowly, it will still be painful to swallow."

She sat down on a chair next to his bed.

"You had us worried for a while there, young man. When Ohaz brought you, your skin was burning, and your neck was infected. That infection's gone now, and your voice should be coming back, but it will still be awhile before you'll be able to travel."

Kovty nodded in understanding. He sipped his tea. It was good, flavored with jasmine.

The woman stood up. "I'll be right back, theres another patient I have to check on. You finish that tea, then we'll see what shape your voice in." She started to walk away, then turned back "My name is Kari, by the way. I'll be the one taking care of you, mainly." She nodded to him, then bustled off.

Kovty leaned back against the headboard. What had happened? Where was Ohaz? He noticed a pad of paper on the table adjacent to his bed. He placed his tea down, and picked up the paper and the pen next to it. He started writing a letter to Dorel. Hopefully Kari would be able to send it for him.

Kari came back a few minutes later. She had brought a wash bowl and a razor for him. He stroked the beard on his chin. He was surprised by how much hair there was.

He took a deep breath.

"Where..." Was that his voice? It was hoarse, scratchy, and broken. "Where am I?"

She smiled. "Your in the Sydim Healing House. It's in Seinax City."

Kovty sighed in relief. He was in his own kingdom, albeit the outskirts. Seinax City barely counted as a city, it was only a quarter of the size of Daetax City. Even so, he was grateful to be in his home country.

He held up the letter so Kari could see it.

"Could you..." he coughed. Ow. "Could you send this for me?"

Karuna took the letter. "The royal palace?" She asked.

Kovty shrugged.

Kari raised an eyebrow, but tucked the letter into a pouch at her waist.

"Of course I'll send it for you." She said. "You should rest now. Your body needs time to heal."

Kovty nodded "One... One last question. Where is Ohaz?"

She smiled. "He left as soon as your fever broke. He gets uncomfortable around so may people."

Kovty nodded again.

"Now rest."

Dorel say on his throne, his head in his hands, his crown askew. Five days ago a messenger in Tamor garb had come bearing one of Kovtys razordisks, along with a proclamation that if Dorel continued to disrespect the kingdom of Tamor, Kovty wouldn't be the only person who died.

Dorel hadn't taken this too seriously at first. Kovty had gotten out of a lot of tight spaces before. But as the days passed, with no word from him, Dorel had begun to realize that he couldn't deny this any longer.

Kovty wasn't coming back.

Dorel didn't know how, and probably never would, but he did know one thing.

It was all his fault.

He had been too ambitious. If he hadn't insisted on sending Kovty on mission after mission, maybe...

A servant bowed into the room.

"Your Majesty, General Toko is here." Dorel nodded and quickly straightened his crown as Kovty's father stepped into the room. He was tall, and still well muscled for his age. Dorel had great respect for this man. He had been a main factor of Dorels' father conquest and rule. After his father had died, Dorel had relied heavily on General Tokos advice.

Toko approached the throne and bowed.

"You know you don't have to bow, Toko." Dorel said waving for him to stand up.

"You are my king." Toko responded in his deep voice. Were there more gray hairs on his head?

"Still no word?" Toko asked softly.

Dorel put his head back in his hands.

"No. I'm sorry, Toko."

General Toko was silent for a moment. Then he placed a hand on Dorels shoulder.

"I don't know what to do without him." Dorel said softly, his eyes stinging a little.

Toko still didn't say anything.

Dorel looked up.

"I'm sorry. I being selfish." He said. "I can't imagine what this must be like for you. I mean, your only son..." he trailed off.

Were those... were those tears on General Tokos face? A wave of shame washed through Dorel. Here he was, moping about Kovty, with his mother and sister to comfort him, but General Toko was alone. His wife had passed years ago, and he had no other family. Dorel straightened, and looked Toko in the eye.

"You were a good father to Kovty. He loved you, and he knew that you loved him too."

Toko nodded, then bowed his head.

"No father should have to outlive his son." He whispered.

The sat like that for a moment. Then Toko straightened and took a deep breath.

"We should start planning for the Committal Ceremony."

Dorel nodded. "I'm sure Bethra will be willing to help. Ask her."

Toko nodded, bowed, and started to walk towards to door, shoulders slumped.

At that moment another servant came rushing in. He hurriedly bowed, then approached Dorel, his hand proffering a piece of paper.

"The mail carrier from Seinax City just arrived, Your Majesty." He panted. "He said this one was addressed to you personally."

Dorel took the paper from the mans hand, opened it and scanned its contents. Then he stood up.

"Your Majesty?" Toko asked, striding over worriedly.

Dorel held the paper towards him. His hands were shaking, and he couldn't find the words to explain.

Toko took the letter and read it. His eyes opened wide. "It's... it's from Kovty!" He shook his head. "How could this be?"

"I don't know." Dorel responded shakily. He turned to the servant. "Prepare the royal carriages. We're going to Seinax City."