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Asyluan’s heart thudded She tried to sit up, but the pain took her breath away, and she fell back into her pillows

"There, there, young lady," the mender cooed "We’ve reset your broken wrist, pulled shards of a hastly wounds on your leg You have been through quite an ordeal, it seems, and now you can rest" To soe, please"

An assistant in the shadows handed hilass tube filled with fluid

This could not be good "What--what is that?" Karigan asked, feeling like a trapped ani in the shadows and standing between her and the door

"It is only morphia," the mender said "It shall ease your pain and help you rest" He pressed a plunger on the end of the tube and a small aan had to get away She threw her blankets aside and lunged forward to leap out of bed, but she was caught by strong hands that pressed her back into the pillows and did not let her go The needle descended and stabbed into the meat of her upper arm She yelped

"Why?" she asked plaintively "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Do not worry, my dear," the ood"

BRANDY

The ht, really quite pleasant, vanquishing her pain for the first time in what felt like forever One never really knew just how taxing pain was till one was free of it and could feel the difference She’d given herself over to the lulling, floating quality of the morphia and slept, slept the sleep of toan to nag at her again, she found herself surfacing fro world she’d find ain release her fro intensity

Her eyes cracked open to an ah herat Rider barracks and onto the wooden floor

Rider barracks Was she there? Was she ho down and everything that had followed, could they have been drea had really changed, not the light, her pain, the bed But a brief lightheadedness spun her round and when it settled, she knew she was not hoone forever, had been gone for some time, just ashes and ruins A tear forain

I ah she still did not knohere "here" was

She heard soft footsteps on floorboards--so sheets, her back toward Karigan Her long skirts rustled as she worked She wore a scarf about her head, concealing her hair One last sheet was folded, and the young woman, who must be a household lance at Karigan, who closed her eyes and pretended to still sleep Thethe door shut behind her

Karigan lay there, feeling the full brunt of returning pain Her wrist especially, and when she lifted it, it felt much heavier than it should She discovered it was iht, than the wood and linen affairs the menders at home used Those tended to loosen and slip, and often bones did not knit back together properly Wherever she was, thebeneath her blankets, she inspected herself further and found she’d been garbed in a very fine linen sleeping gown; so tightly and perfectly woven that she’d never seen anything of like quality, which was saying sohter And the sheets, too Her attentionand dozens of s otten here, by her oill or not, she’d been well tended

Her roos, though spare of ornamentation, appeared to her leas of bowls of fruit broke up the busy, flowery pattern of wall coverings

She found a hand bell on her bedside table If she rang it, she supposed so food and drink, which was tery and thirsty She could also demand answers fros first She eased out of bed, her body tre and weak, and pulled a chamber pot out from beneath the bed

That necessity accomplished, she crossed the rooht and the brick wall of a neighboring building She began to explore her roon of her uniform or the bonewood She li inside except for a lonely shawl Not only had she been disarmed, but they, whoever they were, possessed her brooch andhere, those items were important to her and not intended for the idle hands of others

She wanted her things back She needed answers She returned to the wardrobe and removed the shawl of soft lamb’s wool and placed it around her shoulders Then she went to the door, cracked it open, and listened The tones of male voices in heated discussion drifted to her frole" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">