DarkFyre Ch. 07

"We've stopped the bleeding, for now. I have medicine and supplies in a workroom in the back. It will be quiet and less crowded and I can look him over and work on him properly with the things I need. I will save him, if I can."

"It will be done," Rael nodded. He motioned to some of the men helping to clean the foyer and they came to help move the fallen guardsman as gingerly as possible.

"I'll go get the room ready," Silmaria announced as she rose to her feet.

"You'll do no such thing," Lirena quipped matter-of-factly.

"Why? You need my help. I know more about stitching someone than anyone else but you," Silmaria protested, looking confused.

"I'm sure our good seamstress Karee would take issue with that statement, though I doubt she's ever practiced stitch work in human flesh. You're right, dear Sil. Which is precisely why you can't come." The old woman raised a bony finger, leveling it at Rael. "You need to see to our Lord."

Rael gave a look of momentary puzzlement, before his gaze fell to the red stain of blood spreading along his wounded side. He shook his head. "Don't worry about me, I'm all right. It's a scratch, nothing more. Tend to Tomas, he needs your help."

"A scratch my wrinkled arse," Lirena hissed just loud enough for them to hear, causing both of them to look surprised. "If that gash you're hiding under there isn't tended soon, it'll heal all wrong, or become infected and fester, and that's if you don't pass out from blood loss first to begin with. It's still bleeding."

"It's not that bad, truly. It won't fest. I promise you," Rael insisted, trying to sooth the increasingly irritated old woman.

Lirena gave the Nobleman a long suffering look of annoyance. "You're a young fool, Milord, which is the worst type of fool. And a stubborn, rock headed ass on top of it, just like your father so often was, may the Old God's guide his soul."

Silmaria almost choked on her shock. Even as bold and outspoken as she was, Silmaria wouldn't have dared speak to Lord Rael that way, and she was pretty sure she liked him a good deal less than Lirena did!

For his part, Rael simply stared at her with his brows raised, perplexed.

Lirena leaned forward, and the look on her face said, 'I really shouldn't have to explain this to you of all people, now of all times'.

"Your people are frightened, Milord. They're frightened and full of panic, and holding onto calm by fragile little threads. If they realize you're wounded, and worse, that you aren't having it tended, those threads are going to snap entirely."

Rael regarded the tiny old woman for just a moment, then his lips pressed into a tight, thin line, and he relented to her wisdom. "Very well. You are right, old mother. Please do all you can for Tomas. He deserves our best for his bravery."

"I will try," was the best Lirena could promise. She nodded to the men that Tomas was as ready to move as he could be made. They gathered around the man and carefully, slowly lifted him. He stiffened and a small, weak cry briefly escaped Tomas's dry lips, then he sank into an oblivious stupor once again.

Lirena nodded to Silmaria, said, "Take care of him," and then followed after her patient. The Gnari looked up at Lord Rael, towering over her from his frustratingly tall height, his eyes strange and beautiful and unreadable.

It was too much. The shock of the strangers invading and attacking her home, the blood and the death, men she knew dying senselessly. Her stupid bravery, attacking a man who could have killed her outright, every muscle and fiber in her lithe body straining desperately against the man from his back or he would surely kill her and Tomas both. Feeling the assassin's flesh shredding under her slashing claws. She'd as good as killed him. Tomas struck the killing blow, but if she hadn't attacked the man, he wouldn't be dead now, his corpse being hauled away with all the others. Even now, she could feel the blood caked under her claws, sticky and thick on her hands and forearms.

So much blood.

So many corpses.

"Silmaria?" Rael asked, and there was concern in his deep voice.

She didn't respond, didn't even really hear him. She was swaying where she stood, now, a high, droning ring filling her ears, pushing out all other sounds. The room swung, tilted nauseatingly, and then went fuzzy at the edges.

All she could taste then was copper. It reminded her of blood all over again, the blood on her hands that she was certain would never wash away, staining her beyond all cleaning.

***

Chapter Seven has been one of my favorite chapters thus far. I hope you all have enjoyed it. Things continue to pick up as we move forward. As always, please send any comments,

critiques, questions and the like to me via the CONTACT tab on my profile.