Chương 19: The Cada Canta

Silver were the tears of Cinnabinathi. The blue moon rose, the red moon chased after her, and the ruins glowed an unrequited violet. No matter how he raced, the red moon could not quite catch up to his love. Cinnabinathi kept vigil for two days and two nights. Burbak's still body rested beneath a cedar tree at the camp periphery. A blur of soldiers, auxiliaries, and officers came to visit. Cinnabinathi could not speak. She silently declined all offers of food and water. All was lost.

The third moon rose and overwhelmed the faint lovelight with stark silver disapproval. Bobbert hurried over with two bowls of steaming broth. His master was gone, but the Apprentice carried on. Bobbert seemed to be everywhere at once. He carried water and food, he changed bandages, and he recorded last words to be sent on to the next of kin. Cinnabinathi wondered at the child. How could he spring back so quickly? He was a green sapling that bent against the storm. She was a hollow oak with everything rotted inside.

She could not find the will to thank him.

"Drink this," Bobbert demanded. Cinnabinathi blinked in disbelief. It was an order, from a human. Not even a grown one. Her long fingers tightened into a fist. Whatever scant magic the boy possessed would not save him from the beating of a lifetime. Bobbert was too busy to notice her anger. His attention was on the motionless Dwarf. He thrust two fingers under Burbak's jaw. Then he began to unravel bandages and apply a pungent salve. Cinnabinathi could not understand why he would waste medicine on a lost cause.

Men had many foolish customs.

"These should have been changed hours ago," Bobbert chided her. Chided her! The curse she meant to say escaped as a sob. The humans were so brief, so brutal. The boy could not possibly understand her sorrow.

"You both need to eat. Drink that soup before you feed him. Spoon a little into his mouth, a tiny bit at a time." Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

"What's the use? He's gone," Cinnabinathi protested. Her voice was thin and weak.

"Dwarves are different. Their hearts can beat very slowly when they're hurt. You have to press deep to feel the heartbeat, but it's there. Make sure he doesn't choke as you feed him. Take this salve, change those bandages every day. If you run out, come find me for more. He will heal. He's too stubborn to die." It seemed impossible, Burbak was cocooned in bandages from head to toe. Bobbert seemed sure. Hope blazed in her breast, brighter than the silver moon.

She reached for the bowl beside Burbak, but Bobbert pulled it away from her.

"Do as I say. Eat first, so you don't faint. Then, you can tend to him. He's not going anywhere." Cinnabinathi could not believe this was the bumbling lackey who had chased after Prescote's robes. Bobbert grinned at the way she gawked at him.

"I never wanted to be Prescote's apprentice. My father made me do it. Barber suits me better. I'll be back when I can. Take good care of yourself. You, Burbak, and Prescote saved us all." Bobbert took a clean roll of bandages and a large jar of salve from his knapsack.

"Bobbert," Cinnabinathi stopped him as he was about to leave.

"I name you Elf-friend." Bobbert paused in the silver moonlight, struck by the unexpected honor. It was strange to see such tired eyes on a child's face. He struggled to find words. After a moment, he found what he was looking for.

"Eteta-niuna suma-silva perpeta-eta." In the forests—of forever—we will be one—together. Bobbert spoke with reverence and his tones were almost perfect. The boy knew the Cada Canta. Prescote had trained his pupil well. Cinnabinathi made up her mind.

"I will tell the Seven Seers about you. They will find you a new master. You're wasted as a barber." Bobbert's mouth fell open. Without Prescote, he'd resigned himself to a life of cutting hair and hacking off limbs. Now he was an Elf-friend, invited to train with one of the great masters. His entire trajectory had changed in a conversation. Bobbert swallowed and shouldered the weight of the moment.

"I am honored. Rest well, Dragonslayer."