“I…don’t know whether the phrase I want is ‘nice work’ or simply ‘ouch.’”
“Both. I wasn’t precisely in wonderful shape when all was said and done, thus the chapter house. And speaking of being in wonderful shape—” She glanced around, saw no impending threats, and suspected that the rain would go on for a while. “This is as good a place to check as any, I think.”
Olvir stopped. “Yes. Though I feel somewhat silly about asking, now that I hear you’ve thought nothing of running into a mob of flaming undead.”
“I thought plenty of it, believe me. And I wasn’t good for much afterward, which proves your point,” Vivian said. “Besides, I’ve heard as many stories about the knights. We just serve different purposes, mostly.”
“The same purpose with different methods, I’d say, but…” He waved a hand back and forth, dismissing the whole thing as philosophy. “Would you care to go first, or should I?”
“I’ll have a go.” She eyed him for a moment. There were no obvious bloodstains, but the rain would disguise that. It certainly had rendered his shirt and trousers more formfitting. Vivian cleared her throat. “Mostly back, I’m guessing? The rest seems quite easy to check ourselves.”
“I’d add the head and the sides of the neck, if you don’t mind,” said Olvir. “I’m not sure what we can do if either of us has cracked our skull, but…”
“Better to be aware,” Vivian agreed. “All right. Stand still. Tell me if I hit anything sore. Nonviolently, if possible.”
* * *
He’d made the suggestion very practically. Itwascommon among knights to inspect each other for injuries if they couldn’t get to a healer at the end of a battle, and for good reason. Olvir had seen people walking on broken legs for hours. It hadn’t ended prettily.
So he’d proposed that he and Vivian take the same precautions. He didn’t exactly regret it. First of all, it was still a good idea. And second—
Well.
When he’d turned to face Vivian, he’d seen raindrops shining on her eyelashes like captive stars. He’d noticed the way her full lips moved as she spoke. Although he’d tried to focus on her face, which presented all the above problems, her tunic was wet and clung. Olvir was a knight, not a saint.
He should probably, given all that,haveregretted his idea, or at least its necessity, or his inability to discipline his thoughts. That sort of detachment held no appeal, however. It made the world feel grayer simply to contemplate it.
Matters did not get any simpler when Vivian walked behind him. Olvir was no less aware of the woman for not being able to see her. He heard every quick step on the wet earth and each light breath. Neither the rain nor the breeze that came with it hid those or kept him from feeling the shift in air as she passed him. He felt as if he could sense the heat of her body even with inches between the two of them.
No, if he was trying to keep his mind above his waist, his lack of vision was no help at all.
Olvir waited for her touch, and the waiting itself set him more on edge. Anticipation mixed with the hint of danger he felt when anybody stood at his back, no matter how much he trusted them. He concentrated on breathing normally. He also thanked Tinival that his armor came down to midthigh.
Vivian’s weight shifted. Before Olvir felt her hands on the backs of his calves, he heard her breathing near his waist, which sent a flood of images into his mind.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t stab you.”
She mostly sounded amused, but there was another element in her voice, one that made it a shade less steady than normal. Olvir was tempted to believe it was desire. That was as likely as not wishful thinking.
“No blood at any rate,” she went on, as she ran her fingers lightly but thoroughly up his legs. “And I can’t feel any bones out of place. Pain?”
“No.” He thought he got the word out casually. He hoped so.
Therewasa sore spot on his right thigh, probably a fair-sized bruise that would linger for a while. Olvir welcomed that discovery. Right after that, Vivian was inspecting his backside, and although she did so quickly and respectfully, he wasn’t sure he could’ve stood motionless at her touch if not for the earlier pain.
Up she went, passing Olvir’s waist, giving his spine careful attention. He controlled himself enough to say, when she was at his shoulder blades, “I hope the chain’s not too hard on your hands.”
“No,” she said. “Not as long as I’m not hurrying, which I shouldn’t be. I’m not sure how much I can feel through the armor, though.”
“I can feel you, and that’s a good sign.” Olvir shivered as Vivian’s breath blew past the back of his neck. “Ah. Sorry.”
“My fault.” Her fingers followed her breath, then combed through his hair. “No injuries. Or they’re well-hidden ones.”
“Thank you,” he said.
For the sake of his dignity, he was glad when she stepped away, but the rest of him mourned the loss of her touch.
* * *
