10.5

Nasch's fever broke about dusk, and during the second watch he woke up for a moment. He said “ouch, my head,” ate a spoonful of cold stew (druids apparently prepare most meals in bowls), and went back to sleep. Tyisch arrived in a fit about midnight. Krina almost tackled him.

“He woke up! Oh, Tyisch, just for a moment, but he woke up!”

Tyisch's foul mood evaporated in a moment. “Wizard be praised, he must be a troll. They said it couldn't be done.”

Aytheur had fallen asleep in the corner of the tent, curled up in a fetal position, facing away from the wall with his coat wrapped around him.

“Did either of you offer the doctor a blanket?” Tyisch asked. “Didn't he have a pack with him?”

At the insistence of Nasch's cousin, the elf's belongings were sent for and delivered some time before dawn. “Thank you,” Tyisch said to him, “you saved his life.”

Aytheur woke up very confused. “Would you tell that to these two? They seem to think I've killed him.”

Nerith found he had to explain his dream again. “It was one of the dragons, Zephanarai”

Aytheur suddenly took notice. “Zephi? Why, he's appeared to me also. Now I know what you're worried about; Zephi is a darned old fool, and you've nothing to fear.

“You would insult an ancient?”

“Yes, I would, when he ancient is wrong. Nasch will recover, his body will heal, and he'll live longer this way than if I did nothing. But did you forget that I told you there would be a cost?”

The Kliet found that statement had slipped their minds.

“What I have done to cure him, orcs do all the time. It is a great change, and one that cannot be reversed. It would shorten his life significantly if he were an elf – maybe ten years, or twelve before he becomes ill and cannot be healed. But he is a goblin, and a soldier. If he lives another twelve years he will be an old man. It is better to die then and perish now, is it not?”

Nerith nodded. It sounded good to him, and would let him forget about the dream. Krina wasn't going to be swayed so easily. “What about abomination? Did you curse him?”

“You superstitious, backward people. There are no curses, there is only reality. He is not cursed now, any more than he was when he got stabbed. Nasch isn't an abomination.”

“Well,” Nasch coughed, “that's... good to hear.”

The reunion was tearful and prolonged. For a while, all doubts were driven from their minds. Nasch was restored to him, from the very edge of death. Even Aytheur was moved to moisten his eyes by the emotion around him. All was joy, until Nasch announced he was ready to rest again.

“Before you go to sleep, dear cousin, I should tell you all. Layonia, the princess, is traveling to Ethmar with a dowry, hoping to marry Eth. Crelocthen wanted you to go as the wedding escort.* Hurry, and get well, and we can go with them.

Nasch slept again. That afternoon, the rain finally subsided, and the whole wedding party left immediately. Eldad Gomaesh took Kliet Nasch's place as preferred on the wedding escort, and he insisted they make haste. “Because we shall make no difference at all if we meet Eth with his army in the field.”

When Nasch was finally well enough to walk; it took two days; the Kliet went, with Aytheur, to meet the king.

*the key, but not only, military part of the wedding party.