Pustakawan had only been napping for a few hours or so by the road when the woman arrived, a bag of food over her shoulders and wearing new clothes. He'd expected her to take a lot longer.
"What?" she mumbled, when he raised his eyebrows at her. "The women got over excited and gave me too much. Chimcham won't be coming after me anymore or his honour will be at stake. If I was at full strength, I'd have castrated the bastard. Pity I missed. Still, he won't be doing anything besides lay alone in bed for the next few days"
Pustakawan took the shoulder bag from her, careful not to touch her, being mindful of her wounds, leading her to the camp.
"Here, sit and have a rest," he invited, handing her a cup of tea he had brewed earlier. It was still a bit warm.
"Here, your knife," she returned, sitting on a log on the wayside. She winced with every movement she made. "It's a good blade."
"Keep it," Pustakawan said, putting a slice of cheese between bread from her bag for her. "You haven't any other weapons yet."
"Thank you," she ate slowly and carefully, as if every chewing motion and swallow hurt. It probably did. Bruise marks were evident all around her neck and throat. Her face was still swelled up and in splotchy shades of blue and yellow. "Where are you headed?"
"Back east," Pustakawan shrugged, poking at the fire and trying to ignore his belly. He may have eaten earlier, but that had been a while ago now and he hadn't much food. He had to ration it out.
"You not eating? I can hear your stomach growling from here," the woman said.
"Only if you don't mind sharing."
"Do you think I would forbid my saviour a meal?"
"Your saviour?' Pustakawan cut himself a chunk of bread and cheese, sighing as the food calmed his stomach.
"I've already given my thanks. I'm not about to keep stroking your ego."
"All right. Where do you want to go?"
"East," the woman replied.
"Great, we can journey together. Safer for two travellers together than one alone," Pustakawan nodded at a bowing bird that was digging about on the other side of the camp.
"Agreed," said the woman in a low voice, wincing as she carefully bit off another crumb of bread.
"I prepared a sleeping spot for you. Would you like to rest?"
"No, but I should. Just for today."
The woman finished her sandwich and rose, swaying on her feet.
"Don't worry, I'll deal with everything else," Pustakawan said, offering his shoulder and picking everything else up. "Here, you can lean on me."
"Thanks," the woman whispered, stumbling and leaning heavily on him. Out the corner of his eyes, he could see her eyes drooping. "You better not have fed me sleeping wort."
"No actually, that was a stimulant tea. I thought you might be tired."
"Huh," the woman grunted. "Now that we're going to be travelling together, if you dare peek at me through the bushes, I'll kill you. You won't touch me while I'm asleep will you?"
"Me? No. I'll be too busy cooking our dinner. I won't do any peeking - at least not purposely. Just make sure I know where you are so that I won't accidentally peek. Honest."
"Good. Fine, because otherwise I'd hate to kill you."
Pustakawan helped her into his own sleeping roll where he had laid everything out just in case she would need it. Her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing grew slow and deep. He watched her for a moment and then with a sigh, went searching for more firewood.
One and a half days passed before the woman woke again. Pustakawan had dressed what wounds he could and put poultices on her swollen features. She hadn't even stirred. He wasn't too worried as long as she didn't get an infection.
The woman watched him cleaning up the camp and stirring the fire. Pustakawan pretended he hadn't noticed she was awake, instead busying himself with making a meal for them both.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome," Pustakawan replied, laying out poultices and creams he had made on a rock near the fire with some coarse bandages. She was going to need to change those wound dressings and he doubted she was going to want to let him help. "Feeling better?"
"Yes."
"There's a stream to the south-west and some soap weed growing there, if you want to wash and see to your wounds. There's some clean boiled water in my spare pot there with a sponge for your wounds. I built a fire there some time ago so you won't get too cold. You should be able to stir it back to life. I left some firewood and a rag towel. By the time you get back, breakfast should be almost ready."
"My name is Marielle Vevina. You can call me Vevie."
Vevina, Juta arched an eyebrow. Royalty from the far east kingdom of Velor. Marielle was the first princess there, so he had heard before he had left that part of the continent. She was a treasure after all. She probably wanted to be called 'Vevie' so that no one would recognise either of her rather prominent names.
He bowed low.
"Pustakawan Jutawan at your service. Please call me Juta."
"Juta," Vevie nodded without changing her expression. Collecting a change of clothes from her bag and the things Pustakawan had laid out for her, she limped away toward the stream.