Ch. 12 - The Injured

Jessica’s perceptive gaze swept over the streets. A few people had fallen and hadn’t stirred from where they lay. The bodies of soldiers as well as citizens could be seen sprawled across the streets. She eyed the body of the bird-like creature that Benji had killed. The young men stood beside her, studying the mass of flesh hiding underneath black armor. Its head was bald save for a few scruffy feathers poking out of its black skin, arranged like a misshapen crown. Its red eyes stared blindly up at the three companions through translucent eyelids. The large, hard beak poked out of its face, partially opened in a sneer that revealed its nasty, black teeth. A scrawny, bird-like neck protruded from the black breastplate, and the rest of its body was covered in its armor.

“What is it?” Jessica asked.

Benji replied without a trace of his usual smugness. “It’s a Waranger. I learned of those in my mythology class. Terrible beasts. The only way to kill them is with fire; otherwise they’re virtually indestructible.”

A hand grasped Jessica’s forearm firmly. Alarmed, she gasped and spun around. Andrew grinned.

“Jess!” a voice exclaimed, behind her. The hand loosened its hold and Jessica found herself staring into the eyes of a friend.

“Brooke!” she responded, laughing. The two young women embraced each other and chuckled, happy to be united once again. “It feels like much more than three days!” Jessica clasped her friend’s forearms and held her, examining her friend with a smile.

Brooke was a good two inches taller than Jessica, and her skin was as dark as the night sky in the summertime. Her face was shaped like a heart, and her black hair fell in unorganized curls around it. She possessed two unusually large, brown eyes that stuck out of her skin, and a white smile so huge it almost balanced out her wide eyes. She wasn’t extremely skinny, but rather possessed a muscular build, not that it was very apparent underneath her full-length skirt and over-sized blouse. She was several years older than Jessica, but she looked young and full of energy.

“Welcome back,” she said, her voice light and cheerful. She glanced over at Andrew, and then her eyes wandered over to the beggar beside them.

“He’s with us,” Jessica said. “New recruit.”

Benji gave her a charming grin, sticking out his hand. “Hello, I’m Benji,” he said.

Brooke clasped his hand in hers and shook it heartily. “I’m Brooke. Co-head of the resistance. My husband, the Dane, is in charge around here.” Her bug-like eyes shifted to search the rooftops. “He was helping the archers last time I saw him.” Her attention reverted back to the trio. “We got called here last-minute. Scout came and told us we’d been summoned.” She looked past them and around them, like she was expecting someone else to emerge from the shadows of the ramshackle houses. “Where’s the rest of the league?”

A shadow of regret passed over Jessica’s face. Andrew shook his head and answered, “Dead. The army killed everyone in Tosh. Apparently, while we were gone, the soldiers came and obliterated everything. When we got there, everyone inside the safe house was dead or dying. Justin told us where you had gone, and that’s how we knew where to find you.”

Brooke’s smile melted off her face. “All of them?” she whispered. Jessica nodded, trying to block out the images in her mind of her friends who were dead. Brooke closed her eyes, raised her hands to cover her face, and said nothing.

“It appears you two left just in the nick of time,” Andrew said.

“Indeed. We should hold a ceremony for them,” Brooke said, opening her eyes again. They were moist, but she didn’t allow a tear to slide down her cheek. People had begun to move again, and some had taken to clearing the streets of bodies. Others tended to the wounded. The archers had disappeared from the rooftops, and Jessica suspected they were meandering about the streets, helping wherever someone needed an extra hand.

Brooke sniffed and took Jessica’s hand. “Time for that later; we need to tend to the wounded now.” She led them through the people and bodies of the street, approaching a small building that looked less deteriorated than some of the others. Jessica made it a point not to look at the dead people. It would only make her sick, or sad, both of which were signs of weakness.

They approached the wooden door in the stone building and Brooke pushed it open. Tables lined both walls of the crowded room, and the smell of smoke floated by Jessica’s nostrils. Wounded people were sprawled out over the tables. Small candles rested on top of the side tables, upon which sat various herbs, bindings, and other items meant to help heal the sick. Jessica’s eyes jumped from one being to the next. Blood dripping down an extended arm…someone clutching their leg, their face wrinkled in pain… a hand clutching a shoulder that looked as if it had popped out of its joint.

Jessica swallowed. Brooke led them to the back of the room, pulling up the sleeves of her large shirt. They stopped in front of a table upon which a man sat, waiting. His dark, shaggy hair covered his eyes, and he sat with his back resting against the wall. A hood covered his face. He gripped his bloodied arm loosely in his other hand. Brooke turned to Andrew and Benji. “You two want to get started with them?” she asked, gesturing toward a few bodies draped over tables no more than ten yards away.

Andrew nodded. Benji said softly, “I’ve never…tended to anyone before…”

“Do what I say and you might be alright,” Andrew said, a hint of a smirk on his face. Jessica watched the two boys walk off, out of earshot. She let out a long sigh and turned to her friend, the heavy mood of the room settling over her soul and dampening her spirit.

“Can you dip that cloth in water and hand it to me, please?” Brooke asked as she took the bloodied arm in her grasp and inspected it. Jessica blinked at the bowl of water resting on the table next to a rag and a pile of dried plants. She doused the cloth in water and handed it, dripping, to Brooke.

Jessica watched the woman talk to the man, gently wiping away the blood from his arm. He didn’t say anything in response. He had thick gashes down his forearm and snaking around to his elbow, and it looked like the bone of his elbow was sticking out of his skin. Brooke worked quickly to cleanse his skin from dirt and blood. She glanced around, searching for something impatiently.

“Jess, could you find me a length of rope?”

Jessica wordlessly floated around the tables until she found the necessary item and brought it back. Brooke took the rope and placed it in the man’s good hand. “Bite this.”

For the first time, the man spoke. His voice was deep but smooth, and Jessica imagined he might sound nice as a singer. “I don’t need that.”

Brooke placed a hand on her hip. “It’s going to hurt, and I won’t have you screaming to the whole hospital making them think we don’t treat you well. You need to bite the rope to withstand the pain.”

He raised his head, and Jessica was slightly startled by his features. Long scars stretched down the corners of his cheeks, the purple lines spreading across the bridge of his nose and even over his neck. Tattoos and designs decorated his jaw and covered his throat. His firm chin was set in defiance, and he stared at the young women from underneath dark eyebrows. “Don’t speak to me of pain. I don’t need a rope.”

His eyes were so dark they looked black, and he stared at Brooke challengingly. Jessica thought for a moment that she would retort with a clever remark. Instead, she merely reached out, firmly gripped his elbow, and snapped it back into place with a jolt. A pop issued from his body, but the man only flinched, keeping his eyes on the young woman.

Brooke began to dress his wound, Jessica wordlessly handing her herbs and cloth bandages. “What do they call you?” she asked.

He rested his head against the wall behind him. A few dark locks of hair shifted with the motion. Jessica couldn’t keep herself from staring at the man’s strange facial markings. It was like he had gotten in a fight with a razor blade gone mad.

“They call me many things,” his voice rumbled from beneath the hood he was adjusting over his face, obscuring his mangled features. “You may call me Jaimus.”

Brooke finished tying the cloth bandage around his arm. “Do you live in the city?”

“I was coming through for a meeting. With your husband, I believe.” Brooke stared at him.

“You’re the storyteller, aren’t you?” Brooke’s fingers slid off the man’s arm and he slowly pulled it towards himself, his eyes roaming over the mended appendage with approval.

“Another of my many names.” He swung his legs around the edge of the table and jumped off, lightly landing on his feet. “Come; help me find him.”

“There are still men to be tended to,” Jessica said. The hood swung in her direction.

Brooke crossed her arms over her chest. “You’ll have to wait and talk with him later; the meeting invitation still stands. Be in the war room an hour before Sun Up.” The man spun around and slunk out of the hospital.

Jessica released a breath without realizing she had been holding it. Brooke sighed and faced her. “Come on.” They headed over to another injured man. “Tell me of what happened on your mission,” Brooke said.

Jessica told her about the wolves they had seen, and walking into the city to find their home destroyed. “Your beggar friend – who is he?” Brooke asked as she wrapped a huge gash on someone’s leg. Jessica applied herbs to the adjacent patient’s arm.

She hesitated for a moment, cautiously eying the injured people around her. A woman who sat eying her quickly turned away, embarrassed for being caught eavesdropping. Jessica licked her lips almost nervously. The announcement that the heir to the throne was still alive and posing as a beggar was not one she wished to make public. Brooke, noticing her friend’s silence, turned to scrutinize her.

“Come,” Jessica said, heading toward the door. Once they were both outside, Jessica searched the streets with her eyes to make sure no one was listening. A few people lingered about the bloody streets, but many had gone home or to help at the crumbling infirmary. Satisfied no one was close enough to hear her, Jessica whispered, “Benji is the prince.”

Brooke stared at her. “What?”

“King Darfane’s son. That’s Benji.”

Brooke grabbed Jessica’s shoulders and squeezed them tightly. Her eyes seemed to pop out more than usual as she exclaimed in a strained whisper, “You were supposed to kill him!”

“I couldn’t! I can’t!”

“Jess-”

“He can’t die.”

“I can’t believe this. You’ve been killing all your life, why choose now to—”

“No, Brooke, literally, he can’t die,” Jessica replied quickly, trying to make her friend understand. “He was enchanted by a faerie at birth. Andrew and I have seen it happen – even in the battle today, he took a blow for Andrew that went clean through his body, and got up afterward.”

Brooke gaped at her. Jessica continued, “And Benji’s different from his father. He’s not what I expected. He actually agrees with what we stand for – in fact, I think he’d be useful in the resistance. The fact that he can’t die would make him a valuable asset.”

Brooke shook her head as if to clear it. “But…faeries are exiled. We’ve even recently received word that most of them have been killed off by soldiers. It seems that the king’s army is seeking out anyone capable of doing anything magical and killing them.”

“Benji was enchanted at birth. Before the ban. And so was the king – neither of them can die.” Jessica had a sudden thought. “I bet that’s why king Darfane banished the faeries and magical creatures – if faeries can bless royalty with eternal life, what would stop them from making any old beggar off the street invincible?”

Brooke released her friend’s shoulders and rubbed her face with her hands. She let out a long sigh. “We’re fighting a king that can’t die?”

Jessica didn’t answer. Despair trickled into her heart discreetly like water dripping from a tree branch. “We have Benji on our side,” she said quietly.

“Mm,” Brooke said, hiding behind her hands.

“Are we going to tell the Dane?” Jessica asked tentatively.

Brooke let her hands fall. “No,” she said. “I’ll tell him.” She looked tired now. Strained. “I need to find him first. Jess, help Andy and Benji with the rest of the injured. Dinner at sundown. Meet in the tower. We’ll talk about things later.” Jessica watched her walk away, her shadow darkening the street underneath her determined pace. Jessica ran a hand through her hair, her eyes roaming the now-empty streets illuminated by the setting sun. The air was suddenly chilly, and she shivered as she contemplated everything that had happened that day. They now knew the king was invincible. They now knew he was killing magical creatures to keep commoners from becoming indestructible. They now knew he had strange, unknown creatures in his army that were incredibly hard to kill.

The weight of hopelessness pressed down on Jessica. She suddenly felt very small and insignificant. Things were changing. Times were ending and a new era was beginning. Strange things were happening behind the walls of king Darfane’s castle. It unnerved her and made her shudder. It was like the wind of uncertainty, stirring her bones and chilling her thoughts from the inside.