by J D Abbas
Elena turned her head slowly, gazing at each of the men in turn. “Now that you understand, will you please leave me to die? I’m so tired. I can’t do any more. Have mercy on me and let me go.”
Celdorn took her hand, fighting the despair and rage that swelled within him. “No,” he said softly, shaking his head, then again more firmly, “no, Elena. We will not let you die.” His resolve returned. “You came to us for a purpose, and that purpose is not completed. You will live, and you will find joy in this life yet. I told you I would hold onto hope for you. I refuse to give up now.
“Braiden, tell the men to get water for the bath.”
The healer didn’t stir. He had slumped to the floor, his head between his knees, his shoulders quaking.
Elbrion moved next to him and squatted down. He put his hand on the young healer’s head, speaking quiet words Celdorn couldn’t hear. Braiden uncurled and Elbrion helped him to stand, embracing him and whispering in his ear. The young man straightened and looked at Celdorn.
“Braiden,” Celdorn spoke firmly, “I need you to set aside your regret and prepare a bath for Elena.” He softened his voice. “We’ll need your healing skills shortly.”
“Y-yes, Celdorn.” He moved past Mikaelin, who remained rigid in the doorway.
Celdorn put his arms under Elena and lifted her as gently as he could. The movement sent a spasm crashing through her body.
“I’m going to be sick.” Elena made a feeble attempt to lean her head to the side but wasn’t successful; most of it landed on top of her.
“Don’t worry. We’ll get you cleaned up, little one.” Celdorn tried not to breathe too deeply as they moved out of the room.
Elbrion went before them to open doors and clear a path. Mikaelin stumbled into the corridor and out of their way, staring blankly at Elena as they passed. Deathly pale, he looked on the verge of collapse himself.
“Stay with us, Mikaelin,” Celdorn called behind him.
Elena whispered something into his chest.
“What, little one? I couldn’t hear you.”
“Did Sasha wake? Is she all right?”
Celdorn wanted to weep. Here she was near-dead herself, and she was asking about the dog. His answer squeezed past the lump in his throat. “She’s fine, little one. We’ll let you see her soon.”
Elena sighed and leaned more heavily into his chest.
When they arrived at the bathing room, Elbrion and Mikaelin emptied several water jars leftover from the morning into one of the tubs, filling it part way. Elbrion then turned to help Celdorn with Elena. She was too weak to stand, so he pulled out his knife and cut away what clothing remained and the useless, sodden bandages beneath her leg support. She whimpered when she saw the blade, but Elbrion was done so quickly she didn’t have time to react further.
“We need not wait for the heated water. She is so feverish, the cool water will be a relief,” Elbrion said. “I think we will need a second wash with clean water anyway.”
Celdorn moved to one side of the tub, Elbrion the other. They slowly lowered her. Elena’s body arched and contorted; the touch of the water seemed to be agonizing.
“I’m going to be sick again.”
Mikaelin grabbed a basin and held it in front of Elena as Celdorn and Elbrion tried to sit her upright. The vomiting created further paroxysms of pain, causing both her stomach and bowels to react and forcing fresh blood from the wounds on her torso. She was so weak in the aftermath, she collapsed into a stupor. Celdorn lifted her out of the befouled water, at a loss as to what to do.
Braiden arrived with several men, all carrying water jars. They emptied three into the second tub and set more against the wall.
Before Celdorn and Elbrion lowered Elena into the fresh water, Elbrion chanted softly. The Jhadhela grew stronger within him. This time when they immersed her, she didn’t react.
The men with Braiden emptied the first tub into the drain and rinsed it with clean water. They worked efficiently, not reacting to the situation in any visible way; Celdorn was grateful.
When the others left, Braiden approached. “Wh-what do you need from m-me?”
“Prepare the bed in the room between Elbrion’s and mine. Have spare blankets, basins and water there. You will need several lanterns as well. Most importantly, bring all your medical tools.”
“I-I’ll have it ready.” Braiden paused to gaze down at Elena, whose body now hung limply in Celdorn’s arms, the water around her already a deep pink. “I-I pray D-Dalgo returns soon,” he whispered then turned to go.
Elbrion continued to bathe Elena’s body as Celdorn held her. They then moved her back to the first tub, now empty, and Elbrion slowly poured clean water over her. Fresh blood immediately oozed from her many wounds.
As she lay nearly lifeless in his arms, Celdorn noticed again how small and frail she was, barely more than a child, and yet having suffered so much. Sobs of agony welled up in him. He looked at Mikaelin. “Is there anything you can do for her?”
“I don’t know, Celdorn.” Mikaelin’s voice quavered. “I don’t know what I’m capable of. The last two days have been a complete mystery to me.”
“Do you have strength remaining in your body to survive another transfer?” Elbrion asked.
“What strength is left in me, I would gladly give to her.”
“But will you survive it?”
“I would rather die than watch her do so.”
“I believe you might very well if you try to take on her wounds.” Elbrion looked across at Celdorn. “You cannot trade a life for a life, my friend.”
Celdorn gazed at Elena then Mikaelin. “I can’t choose.” He loved both of them, feared for both of them. Tears rushed to his eyes. “I-I can’t.”
“You don’t need to.” Mikaelin stepped forward and put his hands on Elena’s head before they could stop him. His body shook so fiercely it drove him to his knees, but he didn’t let go. Mikaelin stared at Elena with dismay. “Nothing’s happening.”
Celdorn saw no change. “I don’t understand.” He looked at Mikaelin.
The young man squeezed his eyes shut and tried again. After a few moments, he raised his gaze to Celdorn. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed.
There was a silence as hollow as Celdorn’s chest.
“We will depend on what healing skill Braiden has,” Elbrion encouraged them. “All is not lost.”
Mikaelin let go of Elena and stepped back, his face tormented. He picked up a blanket and held it out to Elbrion, who carefully wrapped it around the girl. Still unable to speak, Celdorn carried Elena back through the hall. They stopped at Elbrion’s door and went through his chamber to the smaller one, which stood between their rooms. At one time, it had served as an antechamber to the two rooms, but its door into the corridor had been sealed ever since he took over as Lord Protector.
Celdorn laid the girl on the small bed, hoping this room would keep her near at hand but also allow more privacy than she’d have in his chamber. He berated himself for not thinking to put her here while he was away. He knelt beside her, stroking her face.
Braiden appeared in the doorway, tools in hand.
Celdorn stood. “I know you have much training and skill in the healing arts, more than your humility will allow others to see. I know your gift. It is much needed.” Seeing the tears well up in Braiden’s eyes, he stepped toward him and laid his hands firmly on the young man’s shoulders. “I need you to focus all your energy on your healing skills. Examine her and tell me what can be done. I’ll wait for you in Elbrion’s room.” Celdorn wanted to avoid his own chamber and any other responsibilities for the time being.
“I’ll try not to fail you again.”
Mikaelin collapsed into a chair in the corner as if Braiden’s words had punched him in the gut.
“I trust in you more than you do yourself.” Celdorn squeezed the young man’s shoulders then walked over and kissed Elena on the forehead.
Elbrion knelt at the head of the bed, caressing he
r hair and singing. Glistening drops of light slid from beneath his closed lids, but his face was serene. Celdorn envied him that.
He rose and went to Elbrion’s chamber to wait.
Chapter 41
Braiden moved next to the bed and knelt down, taking Elena’s hand in his. “C-can you hear m-me?”
The girl’s eyes fluttered but didn’t open. She nodded almost imperceptibly.
“A-all right.” He patted her hand. “I-I’m going to examine you. I-I’ll start with your head and w-work my way down. I-if you feel strong pain anywhere or l-like you’re going to vomit, t-tell me. It would be b-best if you not go away yet. I-I need you to help me to know wh-where the injuries are w-worst. C-can you do that?”
Elena gave Braiden’s hand a feeble squeeze.
“G-good. D-do you need anything or h-have any questions before I begin?”
“If I am beyond repair,” she rasped, “will you then let me die?” Her eyes peeked out at him from the blackened bulges, pleading.
“N-no one in this room is giving up, Elena. Y-you are alive, and I-I am going to keep you that w-way,” Braiden said with far more conviction than he felt. He wished his blasted stammer didn’t make him sound so nervous.
Elena gave a weary sigh and turned her face toward the ceiling, her eyes drooping shut.
Elbrion kissed her pain-creased brow and sang louder.
Braiden started his examination with the new wounds to her face. The swelling indicated that the cuts weren’t from being struck once with a large object, as he had first thought, but rather several separate blows. His guess was a large fist. So her assailant was likely a large, left-handed man.
He examined the tear at the side of her mouth and wondered if the man had shoved something in her mouth to keep her quiet.
“D-does your jaw hurt?” He gently moved it from side to side, suspecting it might be dislocated.
“Yes. It’s difficult to open my mouth.” She shuddered.
“D-o you know wh-what happened?”
“No. I don’t remember.”
“Wh-what’s the last thing you d-do remember?” He examined the jagged tear, trying to decide how best to mend it.
“You helped me to lie down after everyone left. I was so... I just wanted to rest.”
“D-do you remember seeing or hearing anyone in your r-room after that?” He opened the blanket and looked at the slashes on her chest. The gouge on her breast would leave a nasty scar. He wondered if it had been done intentionally to disfigure her since it was deeper and the only one cut in an L shape. The others were straight and shallow.
“I fell asleep,” Elena recalled in a faraway voice. She stopped and her body shook.
“Wh-what is it?”
“It’s all blurry and distant, like in a dream...a very dark dream.”
“Wh-what is?”
“I hear knocking on the door which awakens me, though I’m not really awake. Then I see a giant enter the room.” Elena’s breathing grew rapid and shallow.
Braiden glanced at Elbrion. “El-Elena, you don’t need to think about th-that dream anymore. El-Elbrion’s going to help you g-go away for a while and r-rest.”
As Elbrion stroked her face and sang, she drifted away.
Braiden continued his exam. He had to stop several times, forcing himself to breathe. It helped to focus on prioritizing the injuries: Where was she losing the most blood? Was there anything that was an immediate threat to her life?
When he was done, he covered her and looked up at Elbrion. “W-will you keep her in that p-peaceful place while I speak with C-Celdorn?”
Elbrion nodded then leaned his forehead against hers and continued to sing.
Braiden stepped into Elbrion’s room and closed the door behind him. Three strides in, he picked up a chair and threw it across the room, shattering it against the far wall. He chased after it, kicking the broken pieces as he roared out his frustration. Finally, he leaned his head against the wall, breathing heavily, working to regain control.
He felt Celdorn’s warm hands on his trembling shoulders. He’d witnessed Braiden’s outburst and not said a word. Now he stood behind him, waiting. Braiden didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want any of this to be real. It was like a nightmare from which he couldn’t wake. This was his first time traveling the Shalamhar with Celdorn’s inner circle, the first time left in sole charge of a patient, and he had failed, miserably. How could he tell Celdorn that this girl he had rescued, this girl who had become so precious to him, was most likely going to die from these injuries?
“Braiden?” Celdorn’s tone was soft but insistent.
“H-he not only r-raped her,” Braiden sobbed, not looking up, “he s-s-sodomized her as well.” He struggled for words. “H-he was a big man, even by R-Rogaran standards, far too b-big for her small b-body. Sh-she’s all torn up inside.” His chest heaved, and he steadied himself. “Her b-bowels loosed, not from sickness, but from the trauma. I-I don’t know if I c-can repair the damage.” He turned and looked up at Celdorn. “Th-this is my fault. I-I failed her; I-I failed you. I-I am so d-desperately sorry.”
Celdorn’s massive arms wrapped around him and pulled him into his chest. Braiden felt an emotional storm rumbling through his lord, but Celdorn didn’t speak. He just held Braiden and let him cry, not rebuking him, not telling him to be a man, just holding him. Braiden soaked it in, wanting to draw from Celdorn’s strength to face the next few hours.
When Celdorn spoke, his voice was husky with grief. “Braiden, it could have happened had I been here as well. This isn’t your fault. The fault lies with her attacker.”
“H-he had to be from here, C-Celdorn.” Braiden pulled back and looked up at him. “El-Elena said he was a giant; h-he had to be Rogaran. I-I just can’t b-believe one of our own c-could do something s-so vicious and-and vile.”
Braiden’s rage swelled again. He kicked at a piece of the broken chair then turned to punch the wall. Only Celdorn’s quick reflexes stopped him.
“You need that hand in working condition, Braiden.” Celdorn held his wrist firmly. “You’ll do Elena no good by damaging it.” His stern eyes held Braiden’s gaze. “What can you repair?”
Braiden pulled his arm free, rubbing the wrist. “I-I can stitch the g-gashes around the eye and breast, and-and the slashes on her ch-chest. H-her mouth can be m-mended as well, b-but it will be difficult to m-make it look natural again. I-I’ll have to reset her jaw. Whatever h-he shoved in her mouth did a lot of d-damage; h-he almost b-broke her jaw. And he completely t-tore out the wound I stitched at the t-top of her thigh; the t-tissue is shredded. I-I don’t know what I can do to repair th-that or the...the w-worst of the injuries. I-if I don’t do something, she’ll n-never have control of her b-bowels again.” He swiped at the tears with the back of his hand. “Sh-she’s a young woman. Th-this is so unjust.”
“I have faith in you, Braiden. You are gifted.”
“B-but I can’t work m-miracles.” His head drooped. “I-I wish D-Dalgo were here.”
“He can work no greater miracles than you. He’d tell you so himself. Do what you can and leave the rest in the hands of the Source of All Light.” Celdorn clasped Braiden’s shoulders. “You need to work quickly. She’s been without food and water for some time. Her body grows weak.”
“I-I know. I know. Y-you’re right.” He nodded nervously. “I-I have control now. I-I can do this,” Braiden said, as if to convince himself. “I-I won’t disappoint you again, C-Celdorn.”
He returned to the antechamber where Elbrion continued to sing softly to Elena. Although she was gaunt and blood oozed from wounds all over her body, she looked peaceful. It appeared as if the Jhadhela from Elbrion had somehow seeped into her.
Braiden grasped at a thread of hope. “Are y-you able to speak healing into her b-body, Elbrion?”
“I am not, but you are.”
“I-I don’t have that k-kind of ability.”
“You have more power than you know; you have yet to test
it.” Elbrion resumed singing.
His words surprised Braiden—and seemed to torment Mikaelin, who groaned in the corner. Braiden considered them as he approached Elena.
He glanced at Celdorn, who stood in the doorway. “I-I’m going to start with the w-wound I stitched b-before the attack since it is b-bleeding most heavily. I-I’ll need your help to h-hold her leg for m-me, like this.” He showed Celdorn.
Braiden was surprised when Celdorn hesitated. He saw him working to breathe. “Are you all right?”
“I just...hate seeing her like this.”
Celdorn grasped Elena’s leg as Braiden had shown him, but he turned his grief-stricken face away.
Chapter 42
Elena heard voices from a distance, but she didn’t want to move toward them. Doing so meant leaving the peace that enveloped her. In spite of her resistance, she heard Elbrion getting closer as the light around her faded.
She groaned.
“Welcome back, Sheyshon.”
Elena pried open her eyes, what little she could, and saw Elbrion’s blurry glow just above her. “I’m not dead then,” she rasped. “I was hoping that was Elondhur I was in.” She scoffed weakly. “Who am I kidding? I’ll never be allowed there; Umbradhur is where my future lies.” Feeling a twinge in her hip, Elena adjusted her position. Pain screamed at her from every quadrant of her body. She groaned again. “I was wrong. I’m in that place of torment already.”
“Though your body may feel as if it’s in Umbradhur, hopefully being with us isn’t quite the same,” Celdorn said, kneeling beside her, smiling. “You’ve been gone a long time. I’m glad you’re back.” He leaned in to kiss her forehead but seemed to think better of it and instead reached a hesitant hand to stroke her brow.
Curious, Elena lifted her head to look at her body. With a moan, she lay back, in agony from that small effort. It was then she noticed Braiden standing off to the side, staring at the floor. “Apparently you weren’t able to fix me.” She was unable to keep the mocking tone from her voice. When he grimaced, she looked away. “I’m a waste of your time anyway, Braiden.”
