Chapter 18

I woke to urgent voices outside the curtain, one of which matched the voice from my dreams.

"I don't care if you prescribe rest. We need to get to work. Now." My mother's tone demanded obedience, and I was more than a little surprised by the steel returned by the young doctor.

"With all due respect Major." She emphasised each word. "By your own orders I have the final say on patient care, and I have ordered rest. So rest they will."

Impressive or not, I was genuinely concerned that my young doctor had no idea what she was getting herself into. I cleared my throat gently.

My mother came sweeping into view, throwing one curtain wide open, doctor trailing in her wake furiously. She opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off with a pleading look.

"It's okay," my voice was hoarse. "I'm awake."

Major Evans turned to me with a smug smile. "I can expect you in the conference room in one hour then, yes?"

I knew better than to do anything except agree.

"Yes sure…" I thought for a second. "Where is it?"

"I'll have someone fetch you."

She turned on her heel and marched swiftly out of the hospital wing, but not before giving one last scathing look at the doctor, who met it head on. She was made of tough stuff, this one.

The physician turned her glare on me, and I shrank back under her scrupulous stare.

"You are supposed to be resting." Her tone was disapproving, as if I was supposed to have defied mother.

"I'm sorry?" I wasn't sure who I was more afraid of at this moment, and it felt prudent not to antagonise her any further.

"Hmm, well. I expect you to come straight back here afterwards, you understand?" She didn't pause for me to answer. "Good. There are clean clothes on the stool there for you. I'll leave you to change."

She swept out of my cubicle so quickly a faint breeze rustled the chart hanging from the end of my bed. Mindful that my mother's timekeeping has always been exact, I rushed to dress myself, finding the clothes I'd been left to be well-fitting, if a little bland. Khaki cargo pants and a matching t-shirt would likely be the standard here though, I supposed. I was just lacing up a pair of snug, black combat boots when the curtain twitched by my head, and a tentative voice called out.

"Hey, uh, it's me, Matt. Are you ready to go?" His awkwardness was disconcerting, and I rushed to shrug on a slightly darker khaki jacket as I slipped out from between the folds of fabric to meet him.

He ushered me past the cubicle containing the only other patient, and I made a mental note to ask how she was doing. She had been imprisoned by her own side. That much was true, but with hindsight bringing a soldier from the Easterly army here might not have been the smartest move. Still, what's done is done, and I couldn't very well send her back.

We made our way out of the hospital wing and down another narrow corridor. I couldn't tell if it were the one we entered through, but Matt led me to a conference room similar to the one he had taken me to when I arrived. This time however, every chair was filled, and thirty faces turned to stare at me as Matt pushed open the door and gestured me past him.

The tables were arranged in a horseshoe shape and my mother stood dead centre, regarding me impassively from her trademark at-ease stance. My gaze swept over the arrangement of people now openly gawking at me. There was nobody in the crowd I recognised, but I realised awkwardly that more than a few seemed to recognise me. Those must be the messengers like Matt, who had defected over me. I was disappointed when he left, closing the door gently behind him. I might not really know him, but Matt at least felt like a friendly face.

At the front of the room my mother stood impatiently, one booted foot tapping on the linoleum. Pinned to the whiteboard behind her I could make out two blueprints. One looked like a town, and the other the inside of a building. Both were covered in a series of red squiggly lines and arrows, and I had a sinking feeling I had missed a not insignificant amount of the plan. As I hobbled further into the room, a young lad sat close to me hurried to get up, holding his seat out for me. I thought for a moment about refusing, but my legs already felt weak from the walk here, and I needed to heal quickly. I sat down, thanking him in a hushed whisper. He grinned in reply, a reddish tinge to his cheeks.

I was going to have to track Matt down later and find out exactly what stories they had heard about me. I turned my attention back to my mother quickly, already feeling her eyes boring into the back of my head. She rapped hard on the whiteboard with a ruler I hadn't noticed her holding.

"Now we are all here…" She took an unnecessarily long pause to glare at me, and I got the distinct impression she was unamused by the adoration of the former guildies. After a long moment, her eyes swept across the rest of the room.

"Let's run over the plan one last time…"