Kael
The spoon touched my teeth.
I lowered it and tried again.
Across the narrow room, the attendant pretended to be interested in the window. He had been doing that for three mouthfuls. I appreciated the effort, though the window had very little to offer at this hour.
"You can look," I said.
"I'm counting how much you eat."
"A disappointing career."
"Only today."
I managed the next spoonful. The broth tasted mostly of salt, which was an improvement over dust.
They had put me in a small examination room beside the occupied ward. A folded blanket made the chair less unpleasant. My boots stood beneath it, and Nihil lay within reach on the table. Someone had cleaned the grit from the scabbard.
My right shoulder hurt when I lifted the spoon. My left hand could not take over. I had considered drinking from the bowl, but that required lifting the bowl.
There were limits to human ambition.
The attendant offered to hold it.
I let him.
That was harder than the first mouthful.
