Page 55 of Upon Buried Embers
Sitting down at the pole, I listen as they whisper, unable to make out what they’re saying. Asseya comes in a moment later, a satchel in her hand.
I spot Rohan’s shadow on the other side of the curtain.
“How about we look at your ankle first?” Asseya asks.
“Okay.”
She hums as she turns my foot this way and that, and I stifle any cries of pain the best I can. But when she presses on a particular painful spot, I can’t hold it in. The curtain is pushed aside as Rohan enters.
“Oh hush, Dragonbond, I’m not purposely hurting her,” Asseya huffs, not bothering to turn and look at him.
“See that you don’t, Asseya, I have need of her.”
“Yes, yes.” She waves him off. Rohan grunts, but he steps out of the room again.
“Silly man,” she mutters, and my eyebrows raise. “Sometimes men are stupid. How is he treating you?”
I don’t answer because I don’t know how to. He’s fed me, clothed and bathed me, and given me a warm place to sleep?He’s shaken me and pushed me a little, but he hasn’t hit me or stomped on my body… yet.
Asseya stills in the wrapping of my foot and raises her head. “Do not settle for less, Elven one. He’s a cruel man when he needs to be. He is a leader and Dragonbond, after all, but that does not excuse bad behavior to those who do not deserve it.”
“I hurt his horse,” I whisper, guilt spearing through me, thinking of Serah’s leg. And then how she went on the ice.
“Pah,” she scoffs, tying the bandage and then moving to my head, looking through my curls. “I have a feeling that wasn’t done on purpose.”
“Of course not.” I hiss when she dabs something on my wound.
“Then grow a backbone.” Her voice is stern now. “It’s the only way you will survive this.”
But what if I don’t want to?
“What does that mean?”
She grabs my cheeks in her hands. They’re wrinkled, but soft. “Stick up for yourself. Do not let anyone walk all over you like you’re horse shit.”
I blink.
“The Dragorie do not like weakness. They recoil from it, turn their noses up. They won’t respect you. They’re a hardened people, forced to live out of the shelter of towns and the city, but even they have a softer side. Even a man like Rohan, though it may be harder to find. You just need to get to the center. Past the thorns.”
“Why are you telling me this? Why do I need to get past his thorns?” I whisper, my eyes darting toward his shadow. I’m certain he can’t hear us with how quietly we are talking, but I whisper to make sure.
“Because to have a man like Rohan at your back, it may as well be a dragon. And they’re the most ferocious of all.”
“The stables house all of our horses, and at the back they have a large, fenced area for them to roam.” I follow Calian as he takes me to what he calls the feed room. It’s attached to the stable and it’s a wooden structure with a thatched roof, one of the few here as the Dragorie prefer their tents. “We have some twenty horses here, and some are out. Your job in the mornings is to feed, groom, and clean out their individual stables.”
He opens a door and shows me the small room with barrels of feed and crates of apples. I’m still limping, but I feel a little better after Asseya wrapped my foot, and placed some strange smelling ointment on my other cuts, especially the one hidden in my hair.
“Next door is the saddle room.” The smell of leather hits me immediately as we enter.
Saddles, harnesses, and all sorts of equipment line the walls. A larger table is in the middle with wooden boxes underneath, containing an assortment of cloths and cleaning items.
“One or two times a week you’ll come in here and clean the leather, which I’ll teach you how to do.” I look around the room, overwhelmed. There’s so much. “Others do come in to help, depending on their duties for the day.” He walks over to the large wall at the back and points to it. “This is Drogonah’s attire. You’re not to touch it, only the Dragonbond is allowed. It shows his care and dedication to his dragon, and proves the safety of riding upon his back.” I nod, taking in the larger saddle.
It’s flatter, and much wider than a horse’s, and there’s no pommel, just a curved edge. I can’t believe I sat upon that. Thereare some sort of buckles on the sides, and I assume they attach around the curved spikes on Drogonah’s back.
I look at the reins that are long enough to wrap around Drogonah’s neck, and the ends where they’re to be held by its rider. What looks like braided hair is intertwined with the leather.
“Follow me.”
