Exile's End: Day 9

Word Count: 54,008

Summary of Events:
Chapter 17:
Thårijn got up the day after his injury and intended to go to work, but he was quite sore, and also tore one of his stitched wounds open, but insisted he was fine, his sister Sönnä got the doctor anyways, but Thårijn remained obstinate until Helännä got into a coughing fit, then he finally settled down and let the doctor restitch the wound. Æliyäu then came to visit Thårijn and tried to discuss route plans with him, but Thårijn refused to be willing to talk.
Chapter 18:
Thårijn — feeling much better — got up and practised his sword fighting in his room before being found by one of Sönnä's children and discussing the Låstbøn with them. At the child's request he went out and talked with Sönnä about the Låstbøn, and Thårijn was unsure, but he succeeded in convincing Sönnä of his argument. Æliyäu looked over a map trying to maybe preplan the route, but the logistics of the amount of people that were embarking on the journey overwhelmed him and he wondered if preplanning the route was even possible.

Excerpt of the Day:
"Thårijn slipped out of Wilmæd's former room and back into his current room, reaching under his bed, be brought out his sword. Its fine handle of woven leather had been completed before he'd been injured and looked rightly elegant on his sword.
Grasping the handle firmly in both hands, he swung it as one would swing a hammer and felt only the slightest twinge of pain. He would go back to work in the fogs on the morrow, but for now . . . Thårijn smiled.
He swung the blade, he thrust, he parried, he blocked, and otherwise worked on his sword fighting skills. Thårijn relived his duel with the Förstenräl soldier and did the same moves over again — except that this time he swung with his full force and rent the soldier's head from his shoulders.
A genuine thud sound accompanied his swing — but a little late — and then when he went to move his sword again he found he couldn't. Coming back to his bedchamber, Thårijn discovered he had lodged his unsharpened sword into the wall above the head of his bed, and he must have lodged it into one of the studding timbers, as he could not dislodge it.
Terrible horror rolled through Thårijn's insides. No. No! He couldn't have gotten it irreversibly stick. He had to get it out! But how? How did he get it out? And especially without damaging — if not ruining — his blade?
Carefully Thårijn pressed the handle closer to the wall, slowly and gently, he wiggled it back and forth, coaxing and easing at the metal and hoping desperately that no violent snap would take place.
After awhile Thårijn saw blade peeking out of the wall where no blade had been. He continued wriggling the blade back and forth, slowly easing the metal out of the wood he was sure that it had lodged in, and hoping that no damage had been done to his yet-unsharpened blade.
Finally the blade came free, beautiful, sleek, and undamaged. Thårijn brushed the little bits and slivers off of the tip of the blade and swung it around some more, although making sure he kept himself focused on where he was as well as what he was doing so that he did not go mincing his bedclothes or damaging his tick — lest he make Sönnä have to pluck him a new one.
Whirling around toward the door, Thårijn froze when he realized the door was open, and that there was someone standing in the doorway."

Sönnä: sun-ah
Wilmæd: will-maid