[littlemanpoet]

The morning came cold and damp. The fire burned low. Ædegard sat up. Argeleafa and Bellyn lay huddled tightly against each other for warmth, still sleeping. He wished it could be him next to her, but it would not be seemly, not even in these dire straits.

His hand hurt. How could it? It was not there.

Taitheneb sat by the fire, adding a log. He looked up and gave Ædegard good morning. Argeleafa gave a start and sat up. Bellyn stirred but remained asleep. Ædegard went over to her.

"Good morning," he whispered. "How do you fare?"

She shook her head. "What did you say?" Her left hand went up to her left ear and she winced. He was speaking on her left side. His throat tightened and his eyes became wet. He blinked them dry and crawled to her other side.

"How do you fare?"

"My head hurts."

"I am sorry." He raised his left hand to hold her right, but his stump merely glanced off her forearm. It sent pain shooting up his arm. He winced and doubled over in pain, hugging his left arm to his abdomen. She lay her hand between his shoulder blades, as if she could rub away the pain from there. It was soothing, and little by little the pain lessened to a constant throb. He reached his right hand over and she put her right in his. He lifted it to his lips and kissed the smooth, pale skin between the blue veins.

"I am sorry. Sorry for not thinking of you when we rode off to do battle, leaving you behind to be captured. I am sorry that you have lost your ear. I am sorry that I have been such a fool as to lose my hand for no better reason than a cocksurety that I knew better how to save you than any others."

"Oh, Ædegard." Her smooth voice sought to comfort him, but he shook his head.

Someone else stirred. Nethador. Ædegard looked over to him. The Easterling boy sat up. Ædegard pursed his lips, and with a sudden resolve released Leafa's hand. He went over to Nethador, who tensed. Ædegard fell to his knees no more than a yard from him. Nethador bridled as if expecting to be punched. Ædegard sighed, saddened that such an action was the first thing Nethador expected from him.

"Nethador, I am sorry that I wronged you. I have been a fool. I have seen evil, and you are not evil. Forgive me." Ædegard dropped his head before the boy and tears flowed down his face.