It has been a couple weeks since the fighting in Eaworth. Lieta hated being in bed again. Athlenah and Kemendil were around to help but she was usually left in the care of the hosts. She memorized the patterns of the wooden ceiling during the time, as she really didn’t have much else to do. Her shoulder ached; her left arm was killing her. The only good thing that staying in bed did was give her knee the much needed rest. She wondered where Gaeded and Phaewyn were, though. It was a growing concern of where they are and their health.
When she was finally allowed to walk around, she strolled around the Oserley Mead Hall, still in constant plague from her thoughts. She didn’t like giving Athlenah command of the company, not that she is incapable, but more because of Lieta didn’t like the feeling of being useless.
She stopped again, staring at the small, wall-less town. Her left hand ached again, causing Lieta to rub the place where the hand should have been. The tight bindings were itch, but actually rubbing the arm helped with the ghostly pain of a hand that wasn’t there. One of the Eorling guards mentioned something about a woodcarver that could make a replacement for her left arm, but it wasn’t the same. Lieta sighed. She was getting restless again.
