The moon was high and my throat was hoarse from speaking before Haakon’s breathing evened out.
Biting my lip, I rose, wincing at the pins and needles in my foot. The rest of my body was stiff and sore, but I would not complain. Not when a great warrior lay on the ground, suffering for saving my life.
If someone had told me earlier today that I would play nursemaid to a warrior who dragged me from my home, I would have screamed and fainted. But in the cool night air, my head was clear. I owed a debt to Haakon, and would pay it, but once I was sure he would live, I would escape.
Now he lay with sweat beaded on his forehead and a pallor to his skin I didn’t like. The worst of the cuts had healed, leaving not even a scar, but the greater injuries were unseen.
He needed more water, preferab
