Chapter 13
The sound of birdsong awoke Joff the next morning. He opened his eyes and looked into Coursa’s. “Morning,” he said slowly. “How long have you been staring at me?”
She smiled. “I was worried. How do you feel?”
Joff sat up. He pushed the covers aside and swung his legs off the bed. He did not need to push himself up with his hands, he just stood. As Joff stretched he wondered where his clothes where. The cottage door opened and Jain walked in carrying a basket of berries.
“Whoa!” she said when she saw Joff. She turned away and nearly dropped the berries.
Joff covered himself with his hands and looked around frantically. Coursa would later swear that she had not pulled the blanket out of his reach.
“I’ll just leave you two alone for a bit,” Jain said as she made a hasty exit.
“You don’t need to do that,” Coursa said, nodding to his hands.
He dropped his hands to his sides. “Yeah. Well, I feel a lot better now.”
Coursa rose and walked around the bed to him. She put her hand on Joff’s chest.
“Cold,” he said.
“Sh.” Coursa closed her eyes as she felt the strong, steady beats of Joff’s heart. “You are better.”
A small bump like a mouse under a blanket appeared on Joff’s arm when he flexed. “I feel stronger than I have in a long time. The Corman leaf works.”
“I thinks it’s time to finish your healing,” Coursa said. She stepped closer to Joff. “Draw the sword.”
“No. It’s for you.”
“I could make you draw it,” Coursa said plainly.
“No, you can’t. I’m stronger now, remember?”
Coursa put her hand on his chest and pushed. He resisted for a moment before he tumbled back onto the bed. Coursa sighed. “Please draw the sword. For all we know it may do nothing.” Coursa sat down next him. “I can’t do this again, my love. I thought I had lost you.”
“I don’t want to lose you, either.” He sat glumly for a few minutes. Coursa stared at him with eyes so big and pleading that he knew he could not refuse her. She had coaxed him with threats, with lust, and now with love. Joff wondered what other tools of persuasion this remarkable woman possessed. “We’ll draw it together.” He stood and walked to the spot on the wall where Jain had hidden the sword.
“What?” Coursa asked. “What will that do?”
Joff looked back at her. “I have no idea. I’m hoping that whatever it does will be divided between us. Maybe it makes you young and me strong or maybe it take a few years off you and gives me some muscle.”
“Or maybe it does nothing,” Coursa stood and walked up to him. “If the sword does have power then I don’t want to waste it.”
“Coursa, please. This way is best. Whatever happens, happens.” He sighed. “I know I don’t stand up for myself much. I know I usually let you have your way. This is the exception. I will not be moved on this.”
Coursa’s smiled returned. “We both know I’ll move you as I please.”
“Yes,” Joff conceded. “But I think you love me enough to give a little on this.”
Coursa shook her head. “Jain’s getting clever and you’re getting persuasive. I’ve taught you both too well. Alright. Get the sword.”
Joff reached up a grabbed the sheathed sword. His teeth clenched with effort as he pulled it out and he staggered back a few steps when he caught the full weight of it. The tip of the scabbard came to rest on the floor and Joff put his hand high on the hilt. Coursa grabbed the pommel. “Whatever happens, you have my love,” Joff said.
“And you, mine.”
“Are you ready?”
“No,” Coursa answered. “With my luck this will put me back into the change of life.”
Joff hesitated. “If this works, do you want to have children?” Her eyes widened at that. “Well,” said Joff, “it is something to think about it.”
“Just draw the sword,” Coursa snapped.
Together they pulled. The sword pulled free of its scabbard and they held it together. The blade caught the light coming in through the window and the designs etched into it seemed to glow. Joff admired the craftsmanship, mentally calculating the age and origin of the sword by the style of the blade and the color of the metal. He grinned with pride. The sword was the subject of legend, sought after by heroes and villains for centuries. Now he had it.
“You’re looking strong,” Coursa said.
And speaking of legends. Joff decided that the worthier treasure in the room was not forged of metal, regardless of its magical properties. He yanked the sword away from Coursa, only so he could toss it aside and take her in his arms. “You’re looking radiant.” Her grin had never been wider, nor more inviting.
Hours later they both awoke to a knock at the door. “Can I come in?” Jain asked.
Coursa laughed as she pulled the blankets up over herself. Joff grabbed the clothes of Airk’s that lay folded on he chest at the foot of the bed. He could have worn the shirt as a robe and he could have almost turned around in either leg of the trousers, but he managed to make it all work by tying on a belt. Coursa laughed again at the sight of the ill fitting clothes. Joff walked around to her side of the bed and yanked back the covers, revealing her firm, curvaceous form. He looked over her body admiringly and kissed her deeply before he gave her back the covers and went to open the door.
Jain smiled awkwardly. She looked everywhere but in Joff’s eyes for moment. “The clothes . . . “ She had been going to say “fit” but it seemed wrong to lie and especially wrong to tell such an obvious lie.
“I have a change of clothes at Coursa’s,” Joff said. “Thank you for the loan.” He stepped aside and Jain walked in.
Jain looked at the bed and saw Coursa’s head and shoulders over the blankets. They had used the bed, her bed. Jain did not entirely appreciate that, but she decided not to make an issue of it. Her boot hit something on the floor and she looked down to see the sword of Adara and its scabbard lying on the floor. Jain looked at Joff, then back at Coursa. “Did you . . .”
“We did,” Joff said. He picked up the scabbard and handed it to Jain.
It took Jain a moment to understood that Joff was too weak to pick up the sword, or at least too weak for it to be easy for him. So she picked it up and sheathed it. She set the sword and sheath on the table and turned back to the others. “Did it work?”
Joff smiled. “Oh yeah.” He flexed his arm. “Look at that. Like one of the great strangling snakes of Kargan.”
Jain nodded and manged to look him in the eye. “They strangle mice, do they?”
Coursa dressed while Jain faced the fireplace, cooking food. She had brought back meat from Sarah and Dalton’s farm and she had bread in the house. The meal was simple and hearty. Joff and Coursa both seemed different. Joff acted stronger than at any time since Jain had met him and Coursa was happy and even playful, but if the sword had worked some kind of magic then it was subtle. Coursa’s hair was still white and Joff was still thin and frail. Perhaps the magic had given Coursa back a few years and restored just a bit of Joff’s strength. Jain hoped so.
The couple went back to Coursa’s cottage that night. Jain had thought she would be glad to have her own cottage to herself. She liked Joff, but walking in on him naked, seeing his pale, scrawny body, was not an experience she ever cared to repeat. Sitting alone on her bed, the bed she had shared with Airk, Jain realized that she was alone in a way she never had been. In Daniel’s cottage she had shared a palette with her sister. Since leaving there she had always been in the company of others. There had been the errands Coursa sent her on with Airk and often with Eduard as well. In the days since Airk’s death, Joff had never left her bed and Coursa had always been around. For Jain there was no such thing as privacy. Such a thing could not even be contemplated.
Now Jain had a place all
to herself and found that she did not care for it. She wondered if she could go home. She had earned enough gold in Coursa’s service to buy Daniel a bigger cottage. She could buy him his own land, come to think of it. With Tomkin dead and his line ended an endless stream of possibility opened in front of Jain. Her life was her own. It had never been that. She always answered to others and now she had no idea what to do with freedom.