“Excuse me,” he said politely, then made a face. “Oh, right. Wrong language. Um…” He tried again, this time with my mother tongue. “Can I ask help?”
The words were awkward, but he was still learning. I assumed I sounded much the same using the common tongue. Keeping my words simple for his benefit and my speech slow, I asked, “You need help?”
He brightened, nodding. “Yes, please. Um…” His face scrunched as he tried to think of the words. “Trench?”
Pointing toward the treeline, I told him, “That way.”
A pained smile flickered across his face. He’d yet to look me in the eye, but the more I looked at him, the more I felt that wasn’t on purpose. Many avoided eye contact with me after my attack. They found me intimidating. This one had yet to fully look in my direction, though. Like his gaze was off just slightly. It was odd.
“I need help,” he admitted, then switched to the common tongue, muttering to himself. “Shoot. How do I explain?”
My common tongue seemed to be better than his grasp of my language, so I switched for his benefit, asking, “Explain what?”
“Oh!” He looked surprised by my using his language, but not unhappy. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed–” Shaking his head, he offered me a small smile, still not making eye contact with me. “I need help getting there. Usually my sister guides me, but she hasn’t been back yet and…”
Pushing to my feet, I stepped closer, watching as his eyes finally landed on me but not my face. He didn’t track me as I came closer, didn’t study my face or even look at the scars upon it. I cocked my head, narrowing my eyes as I considered him.
“You cannot see?”
Pressing his lips together, he shook his head slowly. “Not since I was a child. I can’t get to the trench on my own.”
It made more sense now, his odd way of moving and the way his eyes never followed any one thing. He was trying to track sound, not people, and was not always successful, which was why he was looking just past me, not directly at my face when I stood in front of him. It wasn’t until I spoke that his eyes moved to look fully my way.
Slowly, so I didn’t frighten him, I took his elbow, pulling him away from the tent and toward the trees. His gait was a little unsteady, and when he tripped and I had to jerk him upright again, he shot me an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry. I’m not used to walking on sand yet. It throws me off a little.”
I could understand this. The sand added to stealth, but if uneven, could cause tripping if a person wasn’t paying attention. “It’s fine.”
When we stopped at the trench, I frowned at it. Most brothers would just squat near it. How would he do so without risking falling in? Perhaps something could be built for him to hold to steady himself.
“Are you okay alone?” I asked uneasily. I wanted to give him his privacy, but didn’t want to risk him falling.
CHAPTER THREE
HENRY
It took work not to laugh. The barbarian was only being kind, I didn't want him to think I was making fun of him.
“I assure you, I’m fine. Thank you for showing me the way.”
I’d planned on waiting for Alice to escort me, but she was gone longer than I expected, and I felt uncomfortable waiting much longer. I was lucky there was someone nearby willing to help me.
The barbarian grunted, walking away, but I could tell he didn’t go far. Sand muffled footsteps, but there was no sand past the treeline, and the snap of twigs told me he only went so far. I ignored it, taking a moment to do my business before turning carefully to hopefully head back the direction I came. I knew life would be more difficult leaving the familiarity of home, but hearing the excitement in Alice’s voice every morning was worth a little discomfort. She was happy. And once we settled somewhere, like Al Nuzem’s capital maybe, I’d get used to things again.
A hand wrapping gently around my elbow alerted me to the barbarian returning to my side. I smiled up at him, reaching for his arm just to make it a little easier for me. He didn’t seem to mind, readjusting so my hand was wrapped around his forearm instead.
I realized belatedly that I hadn’t introduced myself. “I’m Henry, by the way.”
“Garrun,” he mumbled. “Watch your feet. Sand is soon.”
I appreciated the warning, since the sand had been somewhat of a nuisance since I arrived. I readied myself for the uneven terrain, holding a little tighter to Garrun’s arm to keep myself steady. To distract myself from the embarrassment of possibly tripping over my feet again, I asked, “Which clan are you from, Garrun?”
“Clan Velgraz.”
Perking up, I smiled at him. “Clan Velgraz came to help when we were stuck over the border. Do you have one of those messenger birds like the men who’d traveled with us?”
“No. I have Ekkar.”
