Page 32 of The Elven Healer's Apprentice

“Running her kitchen with an iron fist, a wooden spoon, and the skill of an expert cook.”

“Still bossing everyone around?” He glanced sideways at me.

“Constantly,” I replied.

He laughed. “Then she is well. I shall come for a visit soon.”

“Do. She misses you.” Merlon used our joined hands to tug me closer to his side. A village appeared at the rise in the road. “Stay close,” he admonished as the first of the locals approached.

“Master Healer!”

Within moments, hobgoblins surrounded us. They interspersed greetings with requests for medical advice and gossip. Hubert disappeared into the gathering crowd, and moments later, I spotted him entering a house on the outskirts of the village.

Meanwhile, Merlon engaged with the residents, fielding questions while responding to greetings and tactfully avoiding gossip. Within moments, I realized he was not only well known in the region, but almost treated as though he had grown upthere. Almost to a one, every villager inquired after Sina. And all of them offered hospitality. Merlon repeated over and over that we had already accepted the Hob-Killorian household’s offer of hospitality.

None of those approaching requested to be introduced to me, despite the many curious glances my way. Merlon never released my hand, which appeared to cause quite a few raised eyebrows as the sun sank toward the horizon, changing the color of the light. Finally, the crowd dispersed to their own homes. Hubert appeared from the depths of a small one-story structure of daub and wattle construction and made his way toward us.

Then, offering us a formal bow, he declared our accommodations prepared.

As though he had declared we were to be shunned, the remaining stragglers disappeared.

“Don’t let go,” Merlon whispered under his breath. “I need you to keep me upright.”

I stepped closer, gazing up into his bent features. Exhaustion had deepened the lines around his mouth. And his usually sharp gaze was unfocused. Shaken by his haggard appearance, I leaned into his side, pulling his arm over my shoulders and resting our interlaced fingers against my shoulder. “How can I help?”

Taking a deep breath, as though anticipating something painful, Merlon straightened, but then seemed to reconsider the move. Under the guise of affection, he leaned against me again. “Just keep hold of my hand and follow Hubert.”

Hubert waved for me to come toward his home. “Welcome. Poppy prepared your usual room, Master Healer. The meal waits.” He frowned at our slow progress and considered Merlon for a moment. “Perhaps you wish to refresh yourself first?”

“Yes, please.”

We passed through the low door into a cozy front room with a ceiling so low that I had to stoop. Poor Merlon was almost bent double, but he still clung to my hand.

A fire in the wide hearth in the left-hand wall warmed the room. Food and dishes covered the table across the room to the right. Between the hearth and the table, a scattering of chairs, a basket of mending, and the implements of daily living filled the small space. From among them emerged a slightly smaller female version of Hubert.

“I will bring your meals to your room,” Hubert’s wife informed us as I supported Merlon across the room toward the door that Hubert had opened in the opposite wall. “Last door at the end of the corridor,” he instructed as he moved to the side to let us through. “There is no way you will sleep in the barn in your condition, Master Healer. You would be vulnerable to all.”

Merlon turned to protest after Hubert maneuvered to stand behind us. “But Adela…” He cracked his head on a beam and sat abruptly on the floor, muttering something as he closed his eyes and put a hand to his forehead.

I dropped my grip on his fingers as I moved to examine the damage, but both males cried out at once.

“Don’t let go.” Hubert moved toward us.

“No!” Merlon’s bloodshot eyes made me pause as he wildly grabbed and caught my fingers. “I need you to keep the connection for a few moments longer. Understand?”

I nodded. “I am sorry.”

Merlon attempted to stand. “About what?” Gaining his feet, he groaned and sagged against the wall for a moment. “You have done nothing wrong.”

“That you are in so much pain.” I eyed the destination, a door that Hubert was now opening for us. “We are almost there. Can you walk?”

We gained the room without further mishaps. Within, we found a low bed, large enough for Merlon to stretch out on. The ceiling spanned almost to typical human heights. Merlon still had to duck his head, but he could almost stand straight. As I evaluated how to get him into the bed, Hubert bustled in behind us.

“Just give me a moment. I will set up a sleeping mat for you, Merlon.”

“No need.” Merlon abruptly sat down against the wall. Leaning his head back so it rested against the plastered wall, he groaned and closed his eyes. “I am so exhausted that I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“You will thank me in the morning,” Hubert admonished. “When you can stand without pain, you will be grateful.”

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