The Silver Sheen Chronicle - Emblems of Power

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The Silver Sheen Chronicle - Emblems of Power Page 4

by C.L. Patterson


  Kosai groaned as his arm and chest shook and shivered. Cold, damp sweat blanketed his body. He groaned load as the pain intensified and grew to a crescendo.

  “The pain is good for you, it will make you stronger,” a voice said from the corner of the room. The deep tones, though harsh in nature, brought to comfort to his wounds.

  “I was unaware that you were here Captain,” Kosai said through his gritted teeth.

  “I have been here since sun down. I take it that you’re gaining feeling back in your shoulder; that’s good. I told the nurses to hold off on applying any pain blockers to your wound Kosai. Do you know why?”

  “No sir.”

  “You need to know how damaged you are. I don’t want you to push yourself. The doctors fear that you may never gain full mobility in that arm again.” The Captain stood and lit a glass lantern with a sulfur match. It was an older invention by the School of Chemistry and Alchemy, though it was not a very profitable item.

  The room erupted with golden light. The Captain turned a dial on the lantern to reduce the intensity of the light. Blood percolated through most of the bandages on Kosai’s shoulder and began to ooze onto his skin.

  “I don’t understand why I have to be strapped to this table. That’s the worst part of it.” As Kosai spoke, the Captain opened the cabinet and pulled out a new bandage, wrap, and a bottle filled with brown liquid. He walked over to the table and undid the leather straps around Kosai’s forehead and chest.

  “It’s to keep you still so you don’t hurt yourself too much. You have a strong spirit Kosai, but you should be grateful that you aren’t dead. You are fragile right now. A simple fall could push back your recovery for weeks, if not months. That is something we cannot risk.” The Captain removed the bandages. Kosai cringed, swore and clenched his hands into a fist as the bandages rubbed against the open flesh. “The wound looks a lot better than it did the other day.”

  “Still feels fresh,” Kosai said as the Captain began to apply the new bandage. Kosai cringed and moaned again as the sting of the brown liquid shot into his shoulder. The burning sensation sent tingling pricks down his arm, causing him to flex. The Captain wrapped his shoulder and secured the bandage before placing the leather strap back over his chest.

  “I visited with the doctors today,” the Captain said. “The medicine has helped slow the infection, but it will still take more time to heal. Had you been another day out, you would have died.” Kosai winced and groaned as wave of hot searing pain grew in his shoulder. The Captain ran to the cabinet and took a cloth. He tore it in half, rolled up one of the halves and held it in front of Kosai’s mouth.

  “Bite, it helps,” he said. Kosai took the cloth and clenched until the pain passed. The Captain took the cloth and laid it on the counter. “There are things you can learn from this experience Kosai. When you are healed and back to your usual self, there is an assignment awaiting you.”

  “Another caravan escort already?” Kosai asked with the cloth in his mouth. A memory of the hooded figure flashed in his mind and he blinked hard, removing the image. The Captain smiled and shook his head. He placed his hand in front of Kosai’s mouth and Kosai spat out the cloth.

  “I will let you know what it is tomorrow when I return from a caravan escort.”

  “But you haven’t done that in years! Isn’t that beneath you sir?”

  “It is critical that I go. If anything, it will strengthen the Guard’s morale and help the drivers feel at ease. There are also a few things I want to look into. Kosai, it’s late. Sleep well. I will see you tomorrow.”

  “Yes sir,” Kosai said. The Captain blew out the lantern. The door opened and closed and Kosai was left to himself, strapped to a bed.

  Another assignment already? Kosai thought. He had been placed on patrol duty from time to time, but his main assignments consisted of escorting caravans and hunting down aggressive nomadic tribes. And what can I learn from this?

  He stared up at the ceiling. The darkness reminded him of the dark figure that attacked him. He closed his eyes to shut out the figure, and then opened them again, embracing the memory. The pain in his leg surged again, but he used that to help him remember; to help him see the dark figure. With every heartbeat, throbs of pain pulsed in his back, reminding him of the club, the vial and the peering amber eyes of the dark figure.

  CHAPTER 4

 

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