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At dinner, Liliana repeated what the stranger had said. After all, he now had a name.
Then the weather was discussed, and the whole table agreed that they were expecting another cold snap. Grandmother felt it in her bones, the farmhands and Cedric observed it in the animals’ behaviour and Father smelled it in the air. The chicken broth was well received.
Armed with a portion of said broth, Liliana ventured to the stranger’s bed after dinner. He awoke immediately and swallowed greedily, his gaze fixed on the bowl. There were so many questions swirling around in her head that she didn’t quite know where to start. If he was missing his memories, he couldn’t answer most of them, and she didn’t want to overwhelm him.
‘Do you remember me?’
He looked up briefly. ‘Yes.’
The fact that he could remember newer things was a good sign.
‘How’s the pain?’
‘Don’t ask.’
Liliana would’ve liked to know if his curt manner was part of his personality or due to the pain he was in. To wake up in a strange environment, in this agonising state and unable to recollect anything … No, she didn’t envy him.
Once the bowl was empty, she gave him the medicine, and Grandmother came to look at his wounds. She loosened the bandages in some places, careful not to damage the skin that had already healed. She rubbed on some of the ointment containing the resin Liliana had collected.
The stranger grimaced but made no sound.
‘That’s my grandmother,’ Liliana said. ‘She’s nursed many people back to health.’
Since he lay there quietly afterwards, Liliana stayed in the room. She was eager to talk to him more, but he kept his eyes closed, exhaustion on his face. So she sat down with her book, in front of the wardrobe. It was a precious, carved piece of furniture that Father had given to her mother after their wedding.
‘How did I get here?’
Astonished, she looked up. His eyes were still closed, but it seemed he felt her presence in the room. ‘I found you half-dead in the woods and brought you here.’
A pause followed, during which Liliana watched him over the edge of the book. What a peculiar way of speaking he had … Although she understood him clearly, the melody of his sentences sounded strange to her ears. His lips formed the words with precision, as if every single one of them deserved to be heard.
‘Be honest, what are my chances?’
‘The fact that you survived the first few days is amazing. If you keep going like this, I’m sure you’ll make it.’
A hint of a smile appeared on his lips. He opened his eyes and slowly turned his head to look at her, quietly grunting with pain. ‘What … are you reading?’
The bronze colour of his eyes still fascinated her. ‘Oh, this? A collection of fairy tales.’
Another pause followed while they studied each other.
‘You like books?’
‘I do. Would you like me to read you one of the stories?’
‘Yes, please.’
Liliana cleared her throat. ‘Most farmers struggle with reading. While I am by far the best reader in the family, it probably still sounds bungled to trained ears.’
The stranger gave her another smile to acknowledge her efforts and closed his eyes.
Liliana began to read. She hadn’t read out loud in a long time. No one here shared her enthusiasm for books. Why would they? There always seemed to be gossip to share, and after a day of hard work, most people in the village didn’t want to overexert their tired brains. For them, books were an expensive and superfluous possession. When Cedi had been younger, she’d taught him to read. As with many other activities, her little brother started on it with great zeal, only to lose interest after the first few strides. Reading to someone who may be well educated made her nervous. But she soon found her rhythm. As intended, the stranger relaxed. Distraction was a good antidote to pain.
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