CHAPTER 32 – ROCK BOTTOM


    It was time to wake up. Even though he did not want to do it, this was at least the third time Mitakahn had woken up on the same giant round-rubble rock. The other times he could not help but fall right back asleep because of all of the pain and fatigue. He was lucky he did not die in his sleep. Now he was able to keep his eyes open and assess his surroundings. There was nothing or no one in sight. He could hear some birds in the background but that was it. He decided to get to his feet and look for scraps.


    When he tried to push himself up his left hand burst with pain as soon as he moved it. He looked down, the cuts stopped bleeding, a good sign. The problem was he could barely move his hand. He had to get a closer look. Mitakahn shook his head. Something was wrong. He could see fine out of his left eye, but the bruise over his right eye was the worst one on his body. It throbbed like a sting and practically blinded him. Besides his hand, his head hurt the most, making it hard for him to walk straight. He gradually stumbled to the creek closest to his camp that he could remember. The water was deep enough and slow enough for Mitakahn to go in to his waist.


    Mitakahn dunked his face in the spring water. It was refreshing, and cold enough to jolt him into a more alert state. Mitakahn drank from the stream by cupping his right hand to his mouth. The cold spring water revived him inside and out. He did not really appreciate a cold drink of water before this day, something Mitakahn would never forget for as long as he lived.


    He took his hunting knife out and pressed its blade against the bruise over his eye. He carefully nestled the edge of the blade into the purple flesh of the bruise to break it and relieve the pressure it was causing. Mitakahn learned bloodletting from his time at the academy. Doing it in the stream was a good way to numb it out before the incision while simultaneously being a reliable source of sterilization. He waited until he stopped bleeding and tried his best to wrap a bandage he tore from his sleeve around his head to cover his right eye.


    After a couple of hours, Mitakahn gathered the strength to walk back to the road. Once again feeling the stones under his feet he lifted the headband. To Mitakahn’s relief he could see out of his right eye again. Things were starting to look a little better, but his left hand was definitely broken. Mitakahn took a deep breath as he decided to take a closer look at the injury. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    Mitakahn deduced that if he tried different parts of his hand in isolation from each other it might help define the break more. He wiggled his fingers and only felt residual pain. That was a good sign. None of his fingers were broken. Mitakahn rubbed his forearm and no spikes in pain either. It had to be his wrist. Mitakahn braced himself and tried to turn his hand. The amount of pain that caused him was enough to make any man faint. Mitakahn tried his best not to fall over. He refashioned the headband with a sturdy stick he found under a bushel tree to make a tourniquet for his left arm. It was enough to keep his hand in place and prevent continuous agony. He walked as far down the road as he could before fatiguing. In pure desperation, he fell asleep lying down right next to the oldstone road.


    The sound of travelers walking by woke Mitakahn up the next morning. He could tell they were talking about him. He did not move. He was half-afraid of what they would do and half-embarrassed they would recognize him. As they continued to ignore him a loaf of stale bread dropped right before Mitakahn. The prince never thought his life would one day depend upon the pity of strangers. Mitakahn devoured the bread. It gave him enough energy to walk the road for a couple of hours and start scouting for a good place to rest overnight.


    It was amazing how his life boiled down to four or five simple acts: breathe, rest, drink, eat. When the world is this basic, it cancels almost everything else out. After he finished the bread, his mind was able to focus on the next logical step. Since he did not have anything to set up, he had to find a natural structure to shield him from rainfall or any other environmental disturbance while he slept. If he could find something fortified enough he could maybe spend another day or two healing. But Mitakahn was careful not to get caught in the same predicament as he did the first night.


    A hollowed out grandfather tree served as the best cover he would find tonight. He was grateful. Broken at its stem, it laid over onto another tree. The fall caused the hollow tree to break open enough for Mitakahn to slip in and out with ease. It was almost like a sleeping camp made out of bark. Mitakahn nestled into the gap and pulled the loose bark off the tree. It fell in one sheet and covered the gap, giving Mitakahn complete privacy.


    This was the perfect place to lay low and get some rest. Mitakahn could barely keep his eyes open. So, when he felt little critters with more than two legs crawling on him he paid no attention to it. Nothing was worse than his current state. Thankfully, he was able to go the day without any incident, getting that much further on the path to recovery.