Every Wednesday I do a little work in progress action over here in the Cave.
So here I am, and your next clue is in the little excerpt I'm leaving you. Question is how did Tian's arm get broken the year he made the Banquet for the Festival of the Light?
“I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m afraid your arm is broken young man.”
Tian bit down hard on his lip, blinking up at the healer-priest. The man had to be wrong. Tian knew, he just knew that Brother Armund must have made some mistake, possibly the first one after being inducted into the Brotherhood and earning his healer’s robes. And the silly way Tian’s arm was dangling was something that would pass in a few minutes. Or, possibly with a glass or twenty of strong irizim wine. Because there in no way could the week long preparations for the Festival of the Light banquet Tian had earned the right to make could be done by an inexperienced chef with only one working arm.
Burnt brioche, there had to be some way out of this mess. Why had he let Jeram talk him into trying to climb the side of the old cliff face without a safety harness? And why in the name of the Blessed Light had he ever thought it a good idea to let his fumble handed friend climb up before him? Of course Jeram slipped. Fell. Knocked Tian off the cliff, and then landed right on top of him.
“But, Brother Armund, surely my arm is just strained.”
Tian attempted to raise his right arm. The world went white around him, and then he found himself lying where before he’d been sitting on the good brother’s exam table. Tian cast a misty eyed glance up at the grizzled priest leaning over him. The man’s rough edged voice cut through the echoing waves of pain.
“Tian, I am sure Father Bellasa would be willing to take over the preparations for the feast. Your arm is broken. I have to immobilize it.”
Holding a vial of mimseela root extract to Tian’s lips, the priest’s craggy face softened.
“Drink, lad. Your Da will have my head else, and I shudder to think what your Abtiss will say if I leave you in pain so that you might argue with me.”
Tian opened his mouth, swallowing the concoction down and then scrunching his face up. He couldn’t in good conscience let Brother Armund face Abtiss’s wrath. His father in a rage was a fearsome thing. Tian wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy, let alone on the temple’s healer. He’d have to think of some other way to make this happen. Well, that was fine. Tian knew how to improvise.