Free Robinson Crusoe 2245: (Book 2) by E.J. Robinson Page B

tried to turn her head, but the woman held her and uttered a word she thought meant ‘drink.’ Friday opened her mouth and felt the cold water rush in. It stung her throat going down, but it almost immediately revitalized her. She swallowed greedily, even as the water spilled down her face and neck. She finished the cup, saying only, “More.”
    Her voice sounded foreign to her, scratchy and thick.
    The woman shushed her and put a stale piece of bread to her lips instead.
    “Eat,” she said in the common tongue. Likely, it was the only word she knew.
    Only after Friday had inhaled several pieces did she ask, “How long?”
    The woman looked around warily but did not answer.
    While the bread did help ease the pain in her belly, nothing could temper the headache that gripped her skull. It was like her head had been split in half. As she chewed, she felt soreness in her jaw and neck. She had been beaten badly. Had she come close to dying? She had suffered many injuries in her lifetime but couldn’t remember feeling worse. From the taste of vomit and blood in her mouth and the smell of urine stemming from her underclothes, she suspected she’d been unconscious at least a few days.
    The cabin door swung open abruptly, and a large shadow that could only have been Arga’Zul filled the frame. A narrow shaft of daylight streamed in from behind him, searing Friday’s brain until she cried out.
    “Out,” Arga’Zul growled. The slave woman quickly left.
    Friday listened as Arga’Zul stomped across the room and pulled a wooden chair to her bedside. Once he sat, Friday expected him to grab her by the hair or face, but it didn’t happen. Instead, he waited until she turned her face in his direction.
    “You live,” he grunted.
    She couldn’t tell if it was surprise in his voice or exasperation.
    “I cannot die,” Friday croaked, “without killing you first.”
    Arga’Zul laughed loudly, but this time it felt strange. Friday swore if it had been anyone else, she might have said it was tinged with relief. She immediately dismissed the notion.
    A moment later, she felt something warm touch her lips. She drew back, but Arga’Zul glowered and said, “Drink.”
    She was about to refuse, but then the smell of the broth hit her. She opened her mouth, and the delicious brew spilled down her throat.
    Once it was done, he set the bowl on the table and waited.
    “How long?” she asked.
    “Six days,” Arga’Zul answered.
    Friday felt the draw of the river and realized they were moving faster than usual.
    “You’re at full sail,” she said.
    He nodded. “We are almost home.”
    She craned her neck toward the table and saw it had been wiped clean. All his maps and scrolls were gone.
    “You’ve found what you were looking for,” she said.
    He didn’t respond at first. His eyes remained on her. And then, surprisingly, he spoke.
    “Three days ago we came upon an inlet. Normally, it is too shallow for my ship, but the recent storms had raised the water. There, two leagues in, was a small city of the ancients. An insignificant place by any standard, and yet there, at last, I found what I have been seeking. Funny how often the things you search for can be found right before your eyes.”
    At that moment, the ship drifted to the west, and a stream of light breached the curtains in the back. Arga’Zul’s face was revealed, and Friday was surprised to see how wan he looked. Yes, his skull and cheeks were bruised where she had struck him with the chain. His brow bore a crescent of stitches he had most likely done himself. But what was most surprising was the fatigue that accompany his wounds. It was as if he too had suffered mightily. The war chieftain saw her watching him and turned away, but it was too late. Friday at last understood the truth: he was in love with her.
    In the past, she might have taunted him with that knowledge. But now, she chose to hold it like a diamond close to her heart. She would only reveal it when