Chapter Six

  Her Love

  DREWTH AWOKE. He found himself no longer on the ground of a training room; he was in a soft bed, a blanket drawn over him. Beside him was a nightstand with a pitcher of water, and a small softly glowing chandelier above him on the ceiling. Looking around he recognized the room as his own bedroom, in his own home.

  He heard soft footsteps, and saw his wife step into the room, holding a kettle and a mug. She smiled at Drewth, as she approached the side of the bed. "You're awake now, I'm glad," she began, as she poured the steaming contents of the kettle into the mug, "I heard you had a pretty bad accident while training, said the guards that carried you in here." She looked at Drewth slightly worried, and Drewth thought for a second she was going to ask for the details of the incident. But she looked away at her kettle and carefully filled the cup, saying nothing. Drewth was relieved, as he did not want to tell her the accident related to Syndirin. She would get upset.

  Instead, she said, "Drink this, it will help you recover." Drewth took up the warmed mug in both of his stocky hands from her smaller ones, and tipped it, taking a sip.

  He recognized the drink immediately. "Mage's tea?” he asked her.

  She looked upon him warmly, "Yes. It should help, due to the type of training accident, the magic training. The herbs heal...magic-induced injuries." She seemed to pause with the last of the sentence. Had she known his faulty training session with Lord Syndirin?

  He took another sip of the tea, feeling the hot liquid warm his throat and stomach. As soon as he finished, she received the emptied mug from his hands, set it down, and poured more into it from the kettle. This, too, he drank quickly, and soon was feeling revitalized and alert. She must have noticed his recovery, because she took the mug and the kettle and walked out of the room, and came back without any more Mage's tea.

  "There!", she said cheerfully. "How do you feel?"

  "I feel fine." Truthfully, Drewth was feeling great. He was back at home, healed, with his wonderful wife, who loved him. "I feel totally fine,” he reiterated, more contently.

  She laughed softly, and bent down and kissed him on his forehead. She stood up, and walked around the bed, looking like an angel to Drewth: dressed in her silk nightdress, floating behind her, and vibrant brown hair cascading down her back. She lay upon the bed beside Drewth, took his hand, and held it to her chest, resting her head upon his shoulder.

  It was a complete moment of peace. Thoughts tortured him from within, but these died slowly from his mind: here he was, in his home. There was no war, no sorrow. No enslavement. He needed not his sword to kill, to defend an attacked royalty and force law upon people. He was not running a Driadon enslavement facility, not fighting rebellious Driadon slaves as he had only a few days before, the same day he was promoted; it was simply a complete moment of peace.

  Because he had her, he thought to himself. Only because of her.

  Feeling affectionate for his loved one, he kissed her on the cheek, and lay his head close to her, listening to her breathe in slumber.

  "You care so much for me,” he said to his wife aloud, aloud in thought but still quiet in whisper so as not to awaken her. "I'm just a soldier, a tool in war. And you are beautiful, special. You deserve a life of a princess, though you are satisfied and happy with a life as a wife of a soldier." He looked down at her sleeping face, peaceful, innocent, caring...

  She was still holding his hand upon her chest. "You hold my hand with love, mine the same hand that holds a sword with anger. It is as though you feel beyond feelings, beyond that anger. What am I more?

  "Being with you seems to drive me into doubt. I know not if I am doing right or if I am doing wrong. Am I help to my people? Am I really helping? Though I know not if I am the good I am trying to be, trying by supporting our Lord Syndirin, but I know that you are good. My Arigwhen - you are a blessing if ever there were." He stroked once her long, soft hair. "And I thank the Gods for having you."

  He rested, gazing up at the ceiling, deep in thought. He was bedded with his wife, whom he had presumed asleep; but no, she was awake, and heard his every word. She would not speak up, she was content with her husband's peace, and felt she did not want to ruin it. But the love in his words struck deep, and a single tear rolled down her cheek as she whispered below his hearing, "I love you."

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