[Keir]
With his two critical patients stabilized,
at least for the moment, Keir turned his attention to Thomis. Laurelyn
had done a good job on his shoulder and he was grateful it was a simple
graze. He only had to squeeze a few drops from the succulent touch-me-not
into the gash before letting Laurelyn bandage it up. The bolt was another
matter entirely. He set the bolt he'd collected earlier so its tip was
in the hot coals of the fire, then took out his small, thin knife and passed
the blade through the flames. When he was ready he looked directly into
Thomis' unflinching eyes. "Do you want something to bite on, Master Thomis?
This _will_ hurt, if only for a moment."
[Laurelyn]
While Keir readied his instruments Laurelyn
eased the bloodily, wet material away from Thomis's shoulder and lay some
clean cloth over the wound. Then she began to wrap the bandage round his
shoulder with efficient motion. All the while she was trying to keep her
mind off of what Keir was going to have to do to Thomis's leg. Not that
she was squeamish, but it always seemed worse when it was someone you cared
about.
She offered Thomis her good left hand once
she was finished with the bandaging. The motion was hidden from the others
by her kneeling form - it was only apparent to Master Keir.
[Thomis]
Thomis slid his fingers into hers, with a slight smile of acknowledgment.
"Nothing to bite on, Master Keir," he answered calmly. This was going to
be unpleasant, he knew, but he had endured worse in the past; that thought
made him want to touch the scar across the bridge of his nose again, but
his hand was otherwise occupied. "I will try not to whimper as much
as the puppy."
[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn restrained a grim chuckle and
closed her fingers around his.
[Rudolpho]
Seeing that Daron was feeling better and that she was more coherent, Rudolpho
broke the spell binding Daron to the figurine, removed the hair from the
doll, and filed it for a potential future emergency. He noticed
now that Thomis was the next to need his assistance. They were
going to cut into his leg and that could really hurt. -I don't
think he would mind, under the circumstances. If he does he can yell
at me later. He needs my help.-
With that thought in mind, Rudolpho moved over to where Thomis was sitting
and put his hand on Thomis' shoulder sympathetically. "Does it hurt
much?" As he withdrew his hand, he picked a loose hair off of Thomis'
collar. He then sat down and took out his "doll" and began to "play"
with it. A few deft manipulations and words later he had created
Thomis' likeness and had bound the Oathbound to the figurine. -I
have to do this so he doesn't notice right away.- "Gee Thomis, I hope this
doesn't hurt much and you won't feel it much." Rudolpho had made
sure that his intent was clear for the spell, and though he phrased it
like a statement, it would work magically like an imperative.
[Thomis]
It started, as it always did, as an annoying tickle -- Thomis always had
found it difficult to describe the feeling, even to himself -- at the back
of his mind. A slightly discomfiting touch, as something unfamiliar
encountered the shields that Mesani I'Se long ago had established, a bulwark
against any efforts to read his thoughts, or influence his actions.
Woven into the very patterns of his own breathing and heartbeat, the shields
had been designed not only to protect Thomis, magicless in an environment
filled with contentious mages; they also had been established as a way
for Mesani to protect herself from an Oath-bound under an opponent's control.
Thomis tensed momentarily, with a fleeting thought that another sort of
attack had begun. But the thing that slid across the weave, seeking
purchase and finding none, carried no echo of threat. Having so recently
seen Rudolpho shift from panther to boy -- and playing with his clay figurine
while tending to Daron -- Thomis assumed the youngster was the source of
this latest working of magic. "I appreciate the offer of assistance,"
he said to Rudolpho in a low voice, "but I believe I shall have to decline."
Not that he had a choice -- though Mesani and Drywen could manipulate the
shields, Thomis could do nothing to control them.
He looked back at Keir, and nodded. He could not help a sharp intake
of breath as the knife sliced into him, and squeezed Laurelyn's hand tightly.
[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn managed not to wince at the sharply
tightening strength of Thomis's grip. And she was more than a little grateful
it wasn't her strained right hand that was in such a vise.
[Keir]
Keir slid the blade carefully down alongside
the bolt and gently probed the tip. The Luck of the Hortus struck again
as the bolt was nearly barbless. He withdrew the blade and took a
firm grip on the shaft, holding Thomis' leg with the other. "Here
goes." It was all the warning Thomis received before Keir yanked the bolt
free. Tossing it aside he sprinkled the yellow powder into the wound and
gave it a short approving sniff. Plucking the other bolt from the fire
he cauterized the wound and rubbed the juice of the touch-me-not on it
to both cool and heal. "There, that's that." He sat back and sighed, suddenly
realising how hungry and tired he was.
There was still much to do yet though Pierre
didn't seem to badly wounded and he needed to prod Laurelyn into revealing
just how injured she truly was. Seeing the look she gave Thomis as their
hands remained clasped he decided it could wait and went to check on Daron
and Brendan.
[Thomis]
Fortunately, Keir acted with quick, sure
motions, cutting the barbed head of the bolt free of the muscle and working
it loose. Once the little man started cleaning the wound, Thomis
released his breath slowly. "I guess I will not be able to chase
down rabbits for Fiend for a while, either."
[Laurelyn]
The storyteller did laugh then - mostly
from relieve, and tried to ignore the smell of burnt flesh.
Laurelyn gave Keir a quick smile of gratitude
and settled into a slightly more comfortable position at Thomis's side
- though she left her hand in his grasp.
Nor was she in any hurry to pull free -
despite the fact that her left hand felt a little bruised Laurelyn took
comfort in the warmth of Thomis's hand. It reassured her that he was alive
and well. Though the time in the Politi house had been strained in some
ways - it had provided a sense of safety. And as her adrenalin faded Laurelyn
was again beset by all the fears she had felt for Thomis and Brion during
the Festival battle - again she was reminded of how fragile they were.
"Maybe there's a good seamstress in the
next town," she said with a weak chuckle.
[Rudolpho]
He was more than a little surprised that Thomis was not affected by the
spell. It had never happened before and never failed when he needed
it to work so badly. He only watched as Keir sliced into the man's
thigh and Thomis hissed in pain, though only for a moment. He was
relieved that the proceedure went quickly and smoothly and that Keir was
an experienced healer. When it was done, Rudolpho put away the clay
and muttered something about having to do something. With that he
turned and started toward the edge of the woods.
[Pierre]
-Perhaps I ought to do something,- Pierre
thought silently. Of course, he had no idea how in the world he could possibly
be helpful, and knew he should keep the job to those who actually knew
what they were doing.
-Besides,- he reminded himself. -They have
been injured. I have not. At least,- he amended himself. -Nothing they
could help me with. They have plenty of troubles. I will sit here. I must
not be rude and bother them.-
[Daron]
Daron sat up. The dizziness was still
there, but bearable. She mentally cursed her rashness and clumsiness,
both of which put her in the position of being unable to do the simplest
thing. Master Keir wished her to rest. _She_ wished she could go
after Rudolpho.
-If wishes were horses, peasants would
ride!-
"Rudolpho?" she called. "Please come
back. I need you to get something for me." Not wishing to intrude
on Laurelyn and Thomis, she kept her eyes averted as she spoke, "Pardon
me for overhearing, Mistress Laurelyn, but, since it's my fault that Master
Thomis was hurt, I feel that it is only right for me to make amends."
Daron winced at the unintentional play on words. "I mean, I could
mend the ruined garment. I'm pretty handy with a needle..."
Her attention next focused on Pierre.
An unbidden mental picture of a ruined letter, one of great import to the
young musician, entered her thoughts.
-Another casualty to my rashness,- she
berated herself.
"Rudolpho, could you please bring me my
sack? I need to get some things out of it. Thank you."
-Now, how to best bring the subject up
to Pierre...aha!-
She called to the young musician, "Pierre,
do you have anything that needs mending? I need to keep busy while
I'm resting...anything at all...?" she added sheepishly.
[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn only caught a part of Daron's
question. The storyteller's attention was mostly taken by the quiet but
grave conversation she was having with Thomis.
[Pierre]
Pierre gulped, and considered. He supposed
he could say his heart, but that was purely ridiculous. How could she mend
that? Only Abigail's wellness could be so, and that appeared not to be.
"No," he lied, thinking of the letter. Were
that the letter whole again! Yet, that would involve revealing more than
he cared to do so. It was obvious that Daron had at least seen the image
of Abigail, but had she seen any more? He hoped not. He didn't want to
bother her--or the others--unnecessarily. They had been through enough
already. Also, he wanted to keep his grief to himself, as best he could,
at least temporarily. "Nothing of urgency, at least," he whispered to himself.
[Rudolpho]
He turned when Daron called him. -I have to go back and help her.
She is injured. That doesn't change things though.- He returned
to her side and retrieved her pack for her. "Ummm..here you go.
I hope you're feeling better. He stood by to see what it was that
she needed out of her pack. -She might need something else.-
"Do you need me to get anything else for you?"
[Daron]
Daron grinned at Rudolpho.
"Thank you, Rudolpho. You're a great
help to me! I think what I need to fix what's broken is in here..."
She rummaged through the sack and pulled out a small black lacquer box
and a sheath of rice paper. "Found them!" she declared happily.
"My mending kit and kaboodle." Daron motioned for Rudolpho to come
closer, wincing at the motion. She was reluctant to shout.
"I could use a hug," she whispered shyly.
-And so could _you_, Rudolpho, by the looks
of it...-
Daron didn't mind being devious, if it
was for a good cause. Like this certainly was...
[Rudolpho]
He had noticed the wince when Daron had motioned him over. Consequently,
the quick hug he gave her was a gentle if half-hearted one. He felt
a little better, but the consequences of his actions and poor performance
in the battle weighed heavily on him. -She'll be busy in a minute.-
He picked up a twig and began to trace little designs in the dirt.
[Keir]
Keir glanced over at Brendan as he squatted down by Daron and Rudolpho.
He was pleased to see that Brendan's eyes were open, though they were unfocused,
as that was a sign that he was on his way back to them. He smiled and winked
at Rudolpho. Although the young thief had balked at taking orders, he had
tended to Daron anyway and Keir suspected there was an honorable core inside
the little miscreant. He also wondered if there was more to that *doll*
business after Rudolpho's testy reply and the one he made for Thomis. "So
how's our patient, Rudolpho? She looks much better."
Satisfied that Daron was recovering and in safe hands, Keir approached
Pierre, noting his withdrawn posture. "Pierre? Are you injured?"
[Pierre]
"A bit," Pierre replied honestly, putting his hand up to his cheek, somewhat surprised feel a sticky fluid, beginning to dry. He had been aware that he was shot, but had almost forgotten it. "It is not serious, nor of any important consequence, though," he added.
[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn gave Thomis's hand one more hard
squeeze before she got stiffly to her feet. The Oathbound seemed to be
resting while the storytelling moved off - and soon returned with his horse.
No expression showed on Laurelyn's face
as she checked the steady animal over and adjusted the saddle. She met
Thomis's calm eyes as she helped him to his feet and held his horse while
he cautiously swung himself to the saddle. "Safe winds," she murmured before
he rode off down the path - the deepening shadows quickly cloaking him.
[Brendan]
Brendan awoke to the sound of a horse in the distance, and the most disgusting taste and smell he had ever encountered.
*!# PFUAH !#*
He spat, wheezed and choked, leaning over to one side to dry wretch some strange slices of foulness to the ground. He stared at it a moment, gasping for breath and thinking that perhaps someone had fed him his brother's undergarments (which were never washed).
"What in God's name..??!!!" he roared, still spitting and blowing his nose in a vain attempt to purge his senses of the bileousness of the weed.
"Water!" he pleaded, waving for some unseen helper to provide him some relief. "Water..." he croaked.
[Keir]
Keir approached Brendan with a mug of tea, relieved that he had come to his senses. "Here, this will kill the taste and help with any head aches you may be having." He was only partialy sorry the man had to suffer the foulness of of dracontium, after all if he _was_ a bandit then he was at least partially responsible for all the party's injuries.
[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn had been standing by the tree where Thomis had rested; she had been lost in thought as to the best way to organize watches. The sound of Brendan's swearing brought her around to see the young stranger sitting up - healthy enough to take offense at the flavors of some of Master Keir's healing herbs. She was relieved to see him conscious - he had been the most wounded of the lot and the one that would have been most at risk if they had tried to move him.
Though it was too early to tell if he was travel ready at least they could if they had to.
The storyteller now didn't really want to move the party - not with Thomis riding off to look for help. There was far too good a chance that they might miss each other on the road. She did a quick survey of the group. Jacques seemed to be hunting around the edge of the woods; Rudolpho was near Daron, who was looking over towards Brendan, but kept in place by her own wounds; and Keir was medicating the young stranger.
She focused her thoughts on the problems at hand - turning her mind away from Thomis's risks.
A snort from Beast brought Laurelyn further out of her own thoughts and she went over to check the horse.
Beast watched her approach with accusation in large, deep eyes, and snorted again when Laurelyn stroked her nose. "Sorry," the storyteller, "But Thomis was a hell of lot more hurt than you. I'll get some salve on those cuts now."
The bay Hunter snorted in derision as Laurelyn went to get the flask of alcohol, a cloth, and herbal salve.
On her way back to her horse a hopeful whimper caught Laurelyn's ear and she looked to see Fiend looking as neglected as could be by a pile of supplies. She stiffly bent over to scratch the youngster between the ears, and equally stiffly stood and made her way back to Beast.
The horse held herself with an air of wounded dignity, but since the cuts weren't deep it wasn't long before Laurelyn had the wounds clean and treated. She debated about unsaddling the horse, but decided to only removed the saddle bags so they wouldn't rub the wounds.
Once done she turned from the aggrieved horse and moved off to find Jacques. She wanted to talk to him about what precautions would be needed.
[Brendan]
Brendan wiped his mouth and handed the mug back to the strange looking little man.
"Thanks," he muttered. If he was any judge of mood - and he thought he was - the little man trusted him not at all.
He decided that standing was not a good idea just yet, so he propped himself up against a tree and dusted himself off contentedly. Being alive was an extremely pleasant thing at times.
There was still an unsettling quiet to the forest despite the small tinkering and clattering sounds of the group that surrounded him. There were no bird calls, and no animal cries. Only a light breeze dared filter its way through the trees, and the weakening sunlight fell with trepidation to the forest floor.
It felt thoroughly lonely.
A woman walked past - he remembered her from before he had been knocked out, though her name eluded him - seemingly on her way deeper into the forest. Perhaps she was going to set traps and wards.
"If it is wards ye seek to set, milady, I'd set them in the trees," he called after her, "if they came back on foot you'd hear the leaves crackling from a mile away."
[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn stopped short at the sound of Brendan's voice. Her blue eyes narrowed for a split second - then her expression smoothed as she turned back, and strode over to where he sat.
She hunkered down beside him, despite the sharp pain that ran up her right side, putting herself between Brendan and the rest of the group. Her blue eyes were calm but cold as she said, "Well, Mr. Brendan, that sounds like a good opening for the talk we need to be having."
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho sat by Daron felling slightly better for the hug, but not in the happiest of moods. -Its my fault that everyone is hurt. If I hadn't hesitated, if I had been more ruthless and had the man under my control kill the leader, the rest of them would have scattered. I could have stopped that man Brendan from being clubbed. Now, most of the party is hurt in some way. All but me. I ran. Jacques was right. I guess I'm *not* much good in a fight.- He sat staring into the cook fire mulling over these thoughts as the rest of the party tried to decide what to do about Brendan.
[Jacques]
Down by the stream, Jacques had just finished cleaning the last of his knives, and secreted it back somewhere in his uniform. He had watched sourly as Thomis had ridden off - presumably to get some people to help with the wounded, or to find how far the next town was. One man alone in this place seemed to be a suicidal idea, even if they had managed to rout most of the bandits. While they wouldn't be attacking any large groups any time soon, a lone rider seemed far too easy a target to present to them.
He sighed loudly, and the shaggy white pony snorted and took a few steps away.
"What're _you_ complainin' about? Nobody poked you with anything."
Then he looked back at the others, and noted Laurelyn talking to the stranger - Brendan - and Rudolpho staring morosely at the fire.
He sighed again, and stood slowly. Using that much energy in one go didn't leave him much any more, and his bones ached. He cursed. Must be getting old.
As he walked back to the others, he reached into a pocket and pulled out his silver bottle. So the bandits might come back. Better to die drunk than die because you couldn't damn well move any more. He took a long pull, and another. And then shook the empty bottle sadly.
Fiend tried a half-hearted yip as he approached and he reached down to pick the pup up. It licked across his face, and snuggled in a little closer before making a contented purring noise.
"Thought _you_ were a dog, bot. Not a cat." Jacques then turned to Rudolpho.
"Hey kid. Glad to see you showed some sense there. Ain't no point in _all_of us getting beat up. Sometimes its best to stay out of the way once you've done what you can. Don't be in any hurry to kill people, boy. There'll come a time you'll wish you never started, and find you can't stop. You stick to scarin' them."
He paused, and remembered the two bandits who'd turned on their friends, and the little dolls he'd spotted the boy making of Daron and Thomis. It didn't take an accountant to put three and two together to get five. Or something.
"And if you use a little imagination next time you're controllin' somebody, you needn't have _them_ do the killin' either."
He shrugged. Much as Daron obviously thought he was some uncle type, he didn't know how to handle children. Nor did he really intend to find out.
[Brendan]
Brendan looked blankly at the woman for a moment, his senses still dimmed by the ringing in his ears. She had a sense of business and intelligence to her, this one, and he knew better than to let her get the upper hand of the conversation.
"What exactly did you wish to talk about, Miss..." he probed tentatively.
[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn settled into a more comfortable position. Her expression calm, her blue eyes watching him - her tone conversational as she said, "Well, you were mentioning warnings in the trees - I only caught part of what you said." She tilted her head slightly and looked at him quizzically.
[Brendan]
He smiled. "Ah, that was just some friendly advice, nothing important", he said, waving a hand to dismiss the matter. "But you said that there was a talk that we were meant to have... that couldn't have been about my advice, as I hadn't proferred it yet". He sat back and let his dark eyes lock with hers. "Who are you anyway? Surely not mere travellers, by the way you handle your weapons..." he grimaced, looking around at the small piles of clothes and flesh that were once men. "If it weren't for appearances, I would take you for mercenaries or militia... and sadly then I shall have no lot with you."
[Daron]
Daron raised a dark eyebrow at Brendan's words.
"I, sir, have had to defend myself from the likes of those bandits for the past year. My father did not believe that 'female' automatically meant 'helpless'. If my being able to defend myself disturbs you so much--then--then, the devil take you!" she blurted angrily.
She returned to her mending, taking angry stitches an inch long in the material.
[Pierre]
Pierre nervously reached out and put a hand on Daron's shoulder, hoping she wouldn't cringe away, and hoping he was doing this properly.
"I believe he did not mean that women are weak," he whispered. "Please, do not be angry," he added, urgently.
[Daron]
Daron looked up at Pierre, grateful the musician did not touch her wounded shoulder.
"I just don't like his attitude when, after all, we risked ourselves to save his neck." Her calm features belied the venom in her voice.
-_Don't_ take your anger out on the undeserving!- she chided herself.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Daron gently covered Pierre's hand with her left hand. "Now, could you please get that letter so I can make it right?" she whispered urgently. "Your secret's safe with me..."
[Pierre]
Pierre's face paled visibly and he began trembling ever so slightly. So...she knew. "Please," he whispered. "Promise to me you will not read it. It is...private."
[Daron]
Daron's green eyes met Pierre's violet ones.
"I will not read the letter," she promised.
[Pierre]
Pierre made his decision. She knew about the letter; refusing to bring it to her would do nothing. However, if he was to bring it to her, perhaps then it could be mended. He excused himself and made his way for his horse, wherein it was stored, still in the satchel.
[Daron]
The artist put down her mending and picked up a sheet of rice paper and her black lacquer box. Rummaging through her sack, she pulled out her rectangular drawing board with a metal clip along one short edge. The sheet of rice paper was then clipped to the board. Daron took out a glass jar and a brush from the black lacquer box and set them near her on the ground. She sighed softly, and waited for Pierre to bring her the letter.
[Pierre]
Pierre handed Daron the torn letter, folded over so that the words were not visible. "Here it is," he whispered.
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho looked up at Jacques a bit surprised. Based on their interaction thus far, he hadn't expected him to be concilliatory in as much as he expected an "I told you so". "I shouldn't have hesitated. I had the chance to end this before it really started but I didn't. If the leader was out of the way, they wouldn't have known what to do next. But I didn't get him, he told them to attack and... well, you know the rest. If it wasn't for you, we would have been a lot worse off. I wonder if that guy Brendan was one of them. -And I'm going to find out.- Knowing that people often let "children" get away with things adults couldn't Rudolpho got up, strode purposefully over to where Laurelyn and Brendan sat talking, and stopped crossing his arm in front of him. "Are you a bandit too? Or maybe you were and you decided to go out on your own and they are after you now. Why were you out all by yourself in the woods? Its pretty dangerous unless you know you have nothing to fear?" He waited expectantly for the man's answer.
[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn refrained from rubbing a blood-begrimed hand over her tired eyes - now was not the time to show weakness.
She remembered that the last time they had cornered Brendan he had walked away - if he tried that now they'd have to subdue him, in case he was working for the bandits. Or if he had fallen out with them - and might try to get back into their good graces by offering up a wounded group. "We'll talk later," she said, standing up and schooling herself against wincing. She moved off to seem to be seeing to her horse, but she kept an ear on Brendan's answers to Rudolpho.
[Brendan]
Brendan rubbed at his aching head, not sure if it was sore because of injury or the troublesome questions... he sighed.
"Lad, I can't tell you what you want to know. There are issues in this that you are too young to be worrying about."
He tried to stand, and this time managed to raise himself to a squatting position. In a few minutes he'd be fine to walk. He addressed himself to the rest of the group, without completely ignoring the young man.
"I had nothing to do with the attack on you, at least trust me in that. Milady..." he said gently, looking at Daron, "I honestly meant no offense. If my word would ever mean anything... I apologise."
He looked down, ashamed.
"However, I do intend to get my revenge. I would not suggest you linger in these woods much longer. Those bandits will be back, and I would not want you to risk yourselves again."
He stood, and checked the strap on his shortsword. Despite the blood which lined the hair on one side of his head, he looked ready to take on anyone.
[Daron]
Daron could not keep her surprise from being reflected in her expression.
"Apology accepted," she whispered just loud enough for Brendan to hear. She appraised the man's condition.
-Stubborn. Like someone else I know...-
Uncomfortable comparisons to her brother caused Daron's expression to cloud over. She promised herself she wouldn't cry before this stranger.
Her voice shook slightly when she spoke, "I may not be a healer like Master Keir, but I still think you should rest a bit before you try running off."
-And getting yourself killed,- she finished silently. -Like Dillon might have...-
Daron broke her promise. Tears silently
trickled down her cheeks.