Chapter 5Driada winced as the healer woman’s cold hands prodded the wound on her back. They were at the temple of healing, sitting in a small room full of potions and other instruments of medicine. She had been taken there after the tempestuous events at sea. The walls were white. The brightness of the room was almost overwhelming. Erjon stood in the doorway, his back turned to them to respect Driada’s modesty.
“This is incredible,” the healer whispered. She was a hefty woman of about fifty, with long gray curls. “This does not look like an arrow wound. It is red, yes—but it isn’t bleeding, and there is no infection. It looks more like a cat scratched you while playing.”
Driada looked at her from over her shoulder. “Does this mean I can put my clothes back on now?”
“Oh yes, yes.” She hu
