Chapter 5
Wakeup Call
Meridot, Egidienne County, Republic of Artagna
As he was inspecting the turnip, the traveller's thumb accidentally plunged into a soft spot and he got a proper whiff of the rotten mess inside. He was in the elder's cellar going through the winter stores. This particular turnip was another one for the hogs.
This was his third day since he arrived in the village. The woman he carried here had not woken up yet, but her condition was supposedly stable. These chores that served as payment for the elder's treatment also covered his room and board. There were several unused rooms and the traveller was permitted to use one while he stayed in the village. He did not know how much longer he intended to stay, though. For better or worse, he did feel some sense of responsibility for the woman, and he was also curious to know who she was. However, these would not outweigh his desire to get back on the road for long.
Conveniently, it was just as he was becoming more mindful of his itchy feet that the elder's wife appeared at the door of the cellar.
"Mr. Kaarlsen, Mr. Kaarlsen," she said. "The girl, she's woke up. Thought you might want to see her."
"Coming," the traveller—who had given them the name 'Kaarlsen'—said.
He tossed the turnip into the box with the other bad ones, wiped his hand with his handkerchief and dusted himself off before heading up.
He found the woman sitting up in bed. She was wearing a simple smock and had bandages on her head and her right arm near the elbow. Her expression was difficult to read. It was not the dazed look she had when the traveller first found her, but there did not seem to be much of any emotion one way or another.
The elder, who was standing at the woman's bedside, nodded to the traveller and told her, "This is the man who brought you here, Mr. Kaarlsen. Do you remember?"
The woman shook her head.
"It would seem our guest here is suffering from memory loss," the elder said. "She doesn't remember anything before she woke up."
"Are you sure she actually understands you?" the traveller asked. "Does she even speak Clovais?"
"I... understand..." the woman said haltingly.
From what little she said, the traveller did not notice any trace of an accent that would clearly mark her as a foreigner. If anything, she almost sounded like she was from Amand like the traveller himself.
"What now?" the traveller asked.
"She's still going to need a few more days at least to recover from her physical injuries," the elder said. "I am hoping she will recover from her memory loss as well, but these things can last months, years, even be permanent."
"What then?"
"It will depend on her mental competence. If we have no way of knowing her next of kin, we could always entrust her to the Church. I imagine she would be taken in by the Salemites at St. Anne's."
The traveller did not have the best opinion of the Church, so he did not much like the idea of sending the woman off to a convent, but if she had nowhere else to go, there were far worse places out there.
"For now, let us wait and see," the elder said. "The situation will be much different if her memory returns."
He then asked the traveller, "What about you, Mr. Kaarlsen? What do you intend to do?"
"I've still got work to do," the traveller replied. "I reckon I could round out the week, maybe pick up some other odd jobs to earn a little pocket change for the road."
"I should be able to help you with that," the elder said. "If you don't mind my asking, where are you headed?"
"West."
"Anything more specific than that?"
"Nope."
"I see. Well, I suppose youth is a time for adventure. The older you get, the harder it is to pull up your roots."
"Sounds like something my old grandpaps would say," the traveller replied. "Well, I guess I should get back to work. Those turnips aren't going to sort themselves."
The elder nodded, and as the traveller turned to leave, the woman spoke up.
"You... You brought me here, Mister... Kaarlsen?"
"That's right," the traveller said.
The woman smiled gently and said, "Thank you."
"Don't mention it."
He gave a back-handed wave as he walked out of the room. He did not know what he was doing. He ought to have been moving on, but he wanted to wait and see what would happen. What exactly he was expecting, what he was hoping for, he could not even begin to imagine. All he knew was that he did not want to leave the woman. He thought he had grown out of whatever silly notions were milling about in his head, but apparently not. His mind turned to the smile she gave him when she thanked him, and the one from the time she kissed him, and the one thing that was clear was that he wanted to see that smile again.