Brendan grinned wryly. “That sounds heroic.”
Noah gave a low laugh. “I suppose it was. Her father demanded I teach her to ride, and I had to agree. And Senga said that shewantedto learn to ride. There was no fear, despite her fall, not a bit of it. I… I think I fell in love with her at that moment.”
The silence stretched out between them, and Noah gave himself a shake.
“But that was then,” he said at last, his voice stronger. “That was too long ago. Those days are long gone.”
“Noah—”
“Those days are gone,” Noah repeated, meeting Brendan’s eyes squarely. He picked up his wooden sword again, aiming the tip towards his friend. “Those days are gone, and that lad is dead.”
Chapter 7
The Past Ought To Stay Where It Is
She was probably not dead. That was what Noah kept telling himself. It was not reassuring, however, and he did notquitebelieve it. Anything could have happened. She’d looked drawn and thoroughly miserable when they’d parted, and Noah could not get her face out of his mind.
He didn’t see her at the feast that evening. Of course, the feasting table was packed with people, and it was possible he’d missed her, but somehow Noah didn’t think that was possible. She had lighter hair than anybody else he’d ever seen, the palest blonde in the world, it seemed, and somehow, he always managed to find her in a crowd.
Always.
He had a feeling that even if she’d had nut-brown hair and eyes, common as tree bark, her presence would still draw him to her regardless.
She wasn’t there, though. That was that. He left the feasting room, still faintly hungry but with no desire to eat any more, and found himself prowling up and down the halls. His mind would not settle, and nor would his body.
At last, Noah gave in and collared one of the healers.
“Where is Senga?” he asked bluntly. “I must speak with her.”
The healer seemed faintly taken aback by his harsh tone. She wriggled away from him, shooting an annoyed look his way.
“In the medicine room, I believe,” the healer muttered. “She has not been in a good mood today.”
He had nothing to say to that, and the woman flounced off, head held high. Clenching his jaw, Noah turned and walked the way he had come.
The infirmary was large and always seemed to be busy. Now, just as dinner was being served in the feasting room, the infirmary was the quietest it would ever get. A few patients slept in their cots, and a few healers and leftover nuns scuttled between the beds, talking in low voices.
Noah stuck to the wall, circling the room until he came to one of the many doors opening up from the circular space. Each of those rooms had distinct odors. Some smelled savory, like herbs. He noticed the sharp, medicinal scent of herbs for healing, like lemongrass, rosemary, and shadesflax. Other rooms smelled more relaxing; lavender and mint, for example.
One room smelled sharply of copper, the bloody scent making Noah’s stomach heave. This room, then, was a surgery room, no doubt. No amount of scrubbing could make the place smell like anything other than a slaughterhouse. Many people came out alive and healed from that room, but many died in it, too.
He shuddered and hurried past.
The next room smelled musty and papery, like a library, with a heavy undertone of mingled herbs. This was his destination, then.
The medicine room of the infirmary was the largest off-shooting room and the most crowded, too. Shelves lined the wall from floor to ceiling, crowded with labeled jars and vials. He couldn’t name a quarter of the powders, pastes, herbs, and tinctures he saw crammed onto the shelves.
Just like he expected, Senga stood at the very end of the room, her back turned to him. She was carefully pouring a yellow-green powder from one jar into another, which was almost empty.
Noah paused, hesitating. He wanted to speak to her, of course, but making her jump seemed to be a perfect recipe for two broken jars and wasted powder scattered over the floor. He stood in silence until she poured all the powder away, then slid the jar safely back onto the shelf.
He hadn’t expected her to turn so quickly, but she did, blue eyes widening when she saw him. Senga gave a yelp of surprise, the empty jar falling out of her hands.
Noah dove forward, snatching it out of the air before it could smash on the stone floor.
“Ye ought to be more careful with these,” he remarked, straightening up. “We don’t want glass shards everywhere.”
She snatched it back, her face reddening. “How long have ye been standing there? Were ye watching me?”
