'You're tight as a drum,' Jermayan said, announcing the fact as if he were discussing the weather. 'If you want your body to be able to do what your mind tells it tomorrow, you'll let me work… or do you want me to be able to give you a set of bruises to match that one?'
Not really.
Kellen forced himself to try to relax as Jermayan worked the allheal into the aching muscles of his neck and shoulders and arms. Once he got used to it, it actually felt good.
'Now you can dress, and we'll eat,' Jermayan said at last.
Kellen straightened up and reached for his tunic, realizing he'd actually almost fallen asleep. The next thing he realized was that he could stretch without stiffness. He felt tired, but that was all. Tired, but good. And beneath that, confident. That was something he'd never really felt before, Kellen realized with quiet surprise. He couldn't really remember a time in his life when he hadn't been worried about something—being found out; not living up to expectations that seemed to change daily. But now, when there were real things to worry about for the first time in his life, somehow, he wasn't bothered about them. What would come, would come. And he would face it then.
'Allheal is sovereign for ills of the body,' Jermayan told him, holding up the jar where Kellen could see it. 'Its herbs can be made into a tea as well, and in that form give strength and rest. It can be used to doctor bruises and small cuts, and to poultice a lame hoof.'
'I hope you've brought a lot of it,' Kellen said, grinning wryly as he pulled his tunic back on.
'More than I think we'll need,' Jermayan said with simple approval.
Kellen shrugged his shoulders experimentally beneath his tunic. They felt fine. 'Huh. Jermayan, that stuff works!'
Jermayan smiled quietly, and said nothing.
By now it was almost fully dark. Jermayan prepared their dinner, showing Kellen how it was done so that Kellen would be able to take on his fair share of the chores once he'd adjusted to the new routine of lessons and riding. Not that Kellen needed to be shown much, except for the differences between Elven taste and human— different spices and herbs, mostly. He'd taken his share of the cooking at Idalia's insistence that everyone should know how to cook, and that the only way to learn to cook was to do so. Kellen had never been a good cook—and had never mastered baking at all—but he wasn't helpless, especially on the trail.
Since they were heading into unknown lands and could neither expect to find friendly villages nor stop to hunt along the way, Jermayan had brought Elven journey-food. These rations were simple and efficient; compressed blocks of dried meat, fruit, and grain that could be either eaten as they were or cooked to produce a stew.
Kellen was relieved to see that at least for the first night or so, there was fresh bread and cheese to accompany the journey-food, because he meant to fill up on that. He and Idalia had eaten journey-food that she'd gotten from the Mountain Traders on the way to Sentarshadeen, and Kellen remembered it vividly: tough, bland, greasy, and nearly indigestible (as well as nearly indestructible). Even Idalia hadn't been able to make it palatable. Better than starving, of course. Probably.
But when Jermayan passed him a bowl filled with a thick soup, Kellen received a pleasant surprise.
It smelled good.
Kellen reached for his spoon and took a cautious taste.
It had spices and flavor, and when he encountered a bit of meat, it was actually chewable. He glanced at Jermayan, hoping he didn't look as startled as he felt.
'It is better if it has longer to cook, of course, but well enough,' Jermayan said critically. 'Ah, I see from your face that you have experience of human journey-food. Vile stuff. I would not shoe mules with it. Kellen, we Elves have had a very long time to learn to do things properly. If one must travel, there is no need to starve while doing so, and there is surely no need to make every meal an ordeal.'
Afterward, all that was needed was to prepare for morning, bank the fire for the night, and to make ready for sleep. Tonight they were still well within the borders of Elven lands, so there was little danger of ambush, and both Valdien and Shalkan slept lightly, so there was no need for either Kellen or Jermayan to stand guard. Later, they might need to find some way to keep watch, but for now, they could rely on the keen senses of their hooved companions.
KELLEN slept deeply that night. He dreamed half-consciously; once he realized he was dreaming he struggled against it, for the only dreams Kellen ever remembered having were nightmares of his flight from the Outlaw Hunt, and of Demons.
But these dreams were different. In them he soared in flight over an unfamiliar landscape, looking down upon it as he imagined a bird in flight must view the world.
He realized with a distant sense of discovery that he was looking down at the terrain ahead, and as that
