Chapter 115: Arrival at Greywall
The horse crossed the last curve of the northeast road when the sky was beginning to change from gray to pale orange.
Nathan rode in front, leaning forward over the animal's neck so as not to put weight on his two broken ribs. Liaraen walked on foot, holding the reins with her left hand. Her right hand she kept free, close to the hilt of the sword sheathed at her belt, by reflex accumulated during the last hours of the nighttime journey.
Greywall's gray walls appeared at the end of the path.
Liaraen saw them first. She stopped. Turned her head toward Nathan.
"Not far now."
Nathan opened his eyes. He'd closed them during the last twenty minutes without falling asleep, just resting the eye muscles that the blood loss had left hypersensitive to the low light of dawn.
"How much?"
"Twenty minutes at this pace."
"Alright."
They continued.
The road widened as they approached the north gate. Two farmer carts were already passing toward the city with the first deliveries of the day: one loaded with turnips, the other with live chickens in wooden cages. The driver of the second cart turned his head as he passed beside Liaraen. He looked at her. Then at Nathan mounted on the horse. Then he quickly looked away and whipped his own horse to speed up.
Liaraen noticed.
"Nathan."
"Yes?"
"We look bad."
"I know."
"The guard is going to ask questions."
"I know that too."
"What do I tell him?"
Nathan thought about it as the horse advanced.
"The truth, summarized. We finished a mission in Karak Forest. There were major complications. We're heading straight to Selene's house for medical treatment. If he asks about the guild, you tell him we're going to report later when we can walk without help."
"Alright."
The guard post appeared to the right of the path. Two uniformed men: one seated on a small bench beside the morning fire, the other standing at the road's edge with his spear resting on his shoulder.
The one standing saw them.
He straightened.
And Nathan recognized him. The same man who'd verified their documentation when they entered with Liaraen for the first time after returning from Aelthoren.
The guard walked toward them.
He stopped five meters away.
"Hunter Voss."
"Guard."
"What happened?"
Liaraen responded first. With a firm voice, no visible aristocracy but with the weight of someone who'd handled diplomatic interactions for sixteen years.
"We finished a mission in Karak Forest. There were major complications. We're heading straight to Selene Vareth's house for medical treatment. We'll report to the guild when we can walk without help."
The guard looked at her. Then at Nathan. Then down to Nathan's right flank where the bloodied bandage was visible beneath the torn shirt.
"Do you need a doctor now?"
"Selene can handle it."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
The guard nodded slowly. He moved his hand toward the companion seated.
"Jorek. Let them through without written registration. Verbal report at shift change."
The other guard stood up, looked at Nathan and Liaraen with the neutral expression of someone who'd seen worse and wasn't going to comment, and nodded.
The main guard turned to Liaraen.
"Lady. Is the route to Vareth's house clear in your memory?"
"Clear."
"If anyone gives you trouble along the way, tell them Hallen authorized priority passage."
"I appreciate it."
"Go. Quickly."
Liaraen pulled the reins. The horse advanced, crossing the gate. Nathan gave the guard a minimal nod of gratitude with his head, without words, because speaking cost him more than nodding.
They entered Greywall in full dawn.
The streets of the northern district were almost empty.
A few bakers opening their shops. Two children carrying buckets of water from a public well. A man sweeping the facade of a closed tavern. No one who knew them. No one who stopped them.
Liaraen knew the route to Selene's house by memory. She turned left at the second intersection. Climbed the cobblestone street that led to the modest neighborhood where Selene's house was hidden among other identical houses on purpose.
The horse walked slowly. Nathan stayed on top by willpower more than physical strength. At some point he closed his eyes again. At another point Liaraen had to stretch out her hand to push his shoulder when he began to dangerously tilt to the left.
"Nathan."
"Awake."
"Ten more minutes."
"Alright."
Ten minutes.
More like fifteen.
But they arrived.
Selene's house appeared at the end of the street. The same modest facade as always. The same windows with thick curtains. The same dark wooden door with the bronze knocker.
Liaraen stopped the horse in front of the door.
She tied it quickly to the iron post at the edge of the street. Helped Nathan down. He slid from the saddle more than descended with control, but she was below waiting and cushioned the fall with her right shoulder and left arm together.
Nathan ended up on his feet. More or less.
Liaraen passed his right arm over her shoulders. She supported him by the waist with her left hand. And she walked him the three steps to the door.
She struck the knocker with her free hand.
Three firm knocks.
They waited.
Ten seconds passed. Then twenty. Nathan felt his legs beginning to tremble. Liaraen tightened the grip on his waist to keep him vertical.
Thirty seconds.
The door opened.
Selene was on the other side. In her usual gray tunic, but without the bun in her hair, which indicated she'd just gotten up and hadn't finished her morning routine. Her gray eyes looked at Liaraen first. Then at Nathan. Then at the trail of dried blood Nathan was leaving on the step where his feet were dripping from the thigh bandages that had become saturated during the last hour of the journey.
Selene didn't speak.
She opened the door fully. Took a lateral step.
"Inside."
Liaraen walked Nathan into the interior. Selene closed the door behind them with the bolt thrown.
Nathan ended up standing in the hallway, leaning on Liaraen. The house was cool. It smelled of freshly baked bread, which suggested Selene had been awake before them preparing breakfast.
Selene spoke then.
Without drama.
"To the kitchen. There's space on the table and hot water already boiling."
Liaraen nodded. She walked Nathan down the hallway. Selene went ahead, opening the doors.
They reached the kitchen. The long wooden table was in the center. Selene moved a chair and pushed a bowl of raw dough toward the opposite edge to clear space.
"Sit him here. Not on the chair. On the table. I need access to the wounds on the flank and the thigh."
Liaraen obeyed. She turned Nathan. Lowered him to sit on the table's edge. Then, with Selene's help from the other side, laid him on his back.
Nathan felt the wood against his back. Harder than he'd expected. The kitchen ceiling appeared in his visual field: dark beams, an empty iron hook where dried herbs had probably hung at another time.
Selene leaned over him.
"Nathan."
"Selene."
"Can you speak?"
"I can."
"Are you going to give me the summary before I leave you unconscious to work on the wounds, or are you going to pass out first?"
Nathan let out a small laugh that pulled at his broken ribs and made him groan on the spot.
"Don't make me laugh."
"I didn't do it on purpose. Summary."
"Vidhraki. A major parasite from the ancient cycle. A Draken practitioner named Yorel who'd spent twenty years planning a ritual with the twenty settlement residents as sacrifice. Tendon puppetry. Fusion with the forest's alpha creature as a hybrid configuration. Both dead. Twenty residents dead. Four children dead. Us alive. Me at level ten. New skill: scythe."
Selene processed the list in silence.
For three full seconds.
Then she turned to Liaraen.
"Do you confirm all of it?"
"I confirm."
"Nothing to correct in the summary?"
"Nathan omitted that he operated with the scythe for approximately four minutes during the final fight, cut Yorel in two, and maintained controlled lethal mode the entire time without a single additional resident falling during that phase. He also omitted that he sacrificed his own HP to complete the emergency manifestation. And he omitted that he was on the verge of death at least three times during the last twelve hours."
Nathan turned his head toward Liaraen.
"Sprout."
"What?"
"That was unnecessary information."
"It was information Selene needs to know to decide the treatment order."
"It's not true."
"It is true."
Selene didn't comment on the argument. She turned toward the counter. Took out a large wooden bowl. A clean cloth. A small knife. And from a tall cabinet, a wooden box closed with a small padlock that she opened with a key she wore around her neck.
Nathan watched her from the corner of his eye while she prepared the material.
"Selene."
"Yes?"
"The box."
"What about the box?"
"I've never seen you open it."
"You've never needed me to open it."
"What's in it?"
Selene didn't respond at first. She took out a small glass vial with a dark green liquid. Then a vial of white powder. Then three small cloth packets with pressed herbs Nathan didn't recognize.
Then she spoke.
Without turning her head.
"Tools from a trade prior to the one I practice now. Field healer's material. From when I worked in areas where formal medicine didn't reach."
"When was that?"
"A long time ago. Before Greywall. Before the Veil. Before many things. Stop asking and save your energy so you don't pass out during what's coming."
Nathan stopped asking.