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Varl slept far more quietly than the other Tenakth soldiers in the ruined infirmary, his chest rising and falling as Layan listened to the groans and whimpers uttered from the wounded men and women. It did not help that the building had no roof, for she could feel a constant draft blowing in through the open space above, sending chills across her body. She could not imagine what the wounded must have felt, for there were many occupying the area, their pale bodies stacked against the other as they tossed and turned on their makeshift beds. But when she looked around the stone walled room, she saw more injured warriors than healers, and if that was the case, then many of those placed here would not live to see the sun rise in the morning.
Layan took a deep breath as she wandered her gaze across the infirmary, her eyes falling on the soldiers' painted faces as they grimaced and squirmed. She twisted her lips and returned her attention to Varl, her dear friend. Placing her hand against his forehead, she felt his skin was lukewarm, better than what it once was when they had arrived at this foreign settlement. A short smile appeared across her lips as she stared at him. There was not much she could do for the Tenakth; not now. But for Varl she would do anything to keep him safe, to keep him alive .
Nevertheless, Layan knew she could not stay, time was no longer a luxury to her and she needed to be on her way. But she had left Varl once before and she could not bear to do it again, especially since he had travelled so far to be by her side. Besides, they were in a land she was not familiar with and surrounded with people she did not trust. Who was she to leave him in such undependable care?
But before Layan could decide on her abrupt departure, she heard a loud scream echo over the muffled voices in the infirmary. She turned her head sharply and gazed over the room of wounded warriors, but it was not them she had heard, she was certain of it.
The scream came once more and Layan’s eyes fell instantly on the doorway. She was sure now that the sound had come from outside, but what was Layan to do about it? She could not help the tortured soul nor ease their suffering, she had already gotten too involved in their petty squabbles and she would go no further.
Layan twisted her lips as she looked at Varl, but as she listened to his steady breathing she lowered her head, ashamed to see that he was the only one finding solace in this death-ridden chamber.
The scream tormented her head for the third time and Layan soon found herself closing her eyes shut, wishing it away. But she could not ignore the plea of another. How could she when so many ignored hers a long time ago?
Returning her attention to Varl, she looked at him with regretful eyes. Taking his hand in hers, she sighed deeply before whispering: “I’ll be back… I promise .”
Layan stood up from her seat and slipped away from Varl’s bedside before moving past the anxious healers and cautiously stepping over the wounded warriors that were placed on the floor. As she stepped outside into the hallway, the scream echoed through the passageway. She moved her feet briskly, using the tortured sound as a compass until she finally came to a guarded entrance, thin curtains blocking the view on the other side.
But before she could draw back the drapes to get a better look, the two guards posted outside crossed their spears over the other, stopping her in her tracks.
“ Skeeva .” The woman sneered, her eyes forming into blades. “The Tenakth do not suffer your kind in the Clan Lands.”
Layan furrowed her brows, taken back by the hostile greeting she had received. It made her even more curious to see what was happening on the other side of those walls. But as the woman held her blade tightly, her gaze piercing into her, Layan took a cautious step back. They clearly did not want her here but the agonized scream from before played over and over again in her head like a distant memory, willing her forward. She could not leave now.
“I am not here to cause trouble,” Layan replied, her voice collected and calm. She raised her hands, palms open, showing that she meant no harm. “I heard someone screaming…it brought me here.”
“Those matters do not concern you,” the male guard spoke, his voice less cordial. “Leave. Now .”
But before Layan could protest any further, a piercing groan erupted from inside, muffled voices whispering around it. Layan recognised the sound from earlier, and if their pain-filled cries were anything to go by, it was imminent that they needed attention.
She took a step forward, her hands still raised. “ Please , let me help.”
Layan reached behind her and noticed the two guards fastening their grip on their blades. But as she raised her hand once again, showing that she meant no ill will, she noticed their grip loosen. Taking a small crooked knife from her waist-belt, the hilt painted blue and yellow, she spoke once more. “I was given the right of passage from Marshal Fashav. Let me pass so I may attend to your comrade.”
The man stepped forward, studying the blade in Layan’s hand. A frown soon appeared across his lips, his gaze displeased. “Fashav was always too soft .” He took a deep breath and looked at his fellow comrade before jerking his head in the direction of the room.
Layan watched as the woman disappeared through the curtain, her silhouette fading into the distance. An unnerving silence slithered its way between her and the remaining warrior as his unwavering gaze fell on her. Layan lowered her head towards the ground, avoiding his stare as she twisted her lips and fidgeted with her fingers. Luckily, she did not have to wait too long as the curtains soon drew back, revealing the hurdled group inside.
The female Tenakth stepped into the hallway, her lips pursued as she jerked her head in the direction of the room. “ Go. ”
Layan breathed a sigh of relief, gratefully that she could escape the hostile pair and finally be granted means of entry. But as she stepped inside she felt a warm and stuffy breeze against her face, something that bewildered her since the infirmary had been surrounded with a chilling cold.
She soon became aware of the huddled group kneeling on a large mat in the centre, their wary and bitterly gazes placed on her. Most of them wore the same attire as the healers from the infirmary, besides two others, but it begged her to question the reason why they had gathered most of their physicians here when the infirmary was in need of many.
One of them curled up their lips in disdain, turning their back towards her as they spoke in a foreign tongue. Their tone was sharp and aggressive as they directed their anger towards the sturdily built man that stood over them. Layan did not understand the words that came out of their mouth but she recognised one amongst the rest. The one that they spat out with disgust. Skeeva . It was the same word the guard had addressed her with earlier before. She knew for certain that it must have been an insult.
But before the healer could continue on their verbal assault, the man stretched his hand out and curled his fingers into a tight fist. When he spoke in the same tongue as them, his voice was deep and authoritative, forcing the healer into submission as they bowed their head with irritance, their lips pressed tightly together.
As the man turned his attention towards Layan, she became aware of the large, metal ornament adorning the crown of his head. It was spread out like a fan, the front curved in the shape of a deer’s antlers. Layan assumed he was the leader of this unwelcoming tribe…his unwavering presence was definitely felt within the room.
“Come,” he ordered, his profound voice pulling her out of her thoughts.
Layan walked cautiously towards the group, her throat becoming dry as she watched their piercing stares. As she got closer, her eyes caught the attention of the leader’s chest, his dark skin engraved with blue and ashen-grey markings. She could not help but wonder what they symbolized, but she knew now was not the time to entertain her curiosities, and as she glanced up she met the man’s gaze, his expression unreadable.
Gulping down her nerves, she knelt down in the spare spot of the huddled circle and finally laid eyes on the shivering man in the middle, the one she assumed was the source of all the screams. She recognised him immediately from the before, for he was there when she and the Tenakth soldiers were ambushed at Barren Light, a place that was meant to be sacred and safe from bloodshed.
His skin was engraved with the same blue and white markings as his leader, though she could see them a lot more clearly since his upper body was exposed and not covered in tribal garments.
Layan soon became aware of the blooded cloth held underneath his arm…or what was left of it. It was clear that it had been gnawed or teared off by something with savage strength, for the blood that oozed out consumed the cloth whole, staining the healer’s palm underneath.
She touched the surface of her focus, submerging herself in a configuration of connected lines that formed a dome, while the device highlighted the wounded man in a purple glow. She scanned his shredded arm and flicked through the many data files that emerged before her until she found one that seemed useful. Layan caught the others around her shudder as they gazed anxiously at her device, but she did not care to pay them any attention. Many that feared the Old World had the same reaction and she was not bothered to go into lectures about its significance.
Layan read the file quickly and carefully before clasping her hands together and addressing the group. “We are going to need a lot more clean cloth and fresh bandages. It is paramount that we stop his bleeding as soon as possible.” She turned her attention to the trembling soldier, his breath hoarse and unsteady. Layan rested the back of her hand against his forehead and immediately shivered at the coldness of his skin. Shit! He is freezing! “We are going to need blankets as well, anything to keep him warm.”
Layan reached into her woven pouch and quickly took out a fine, sharp needle along with some string and a small bottle of weak alcohol. She was about to pour the liquid onto her tool, but paused to glance at the motionless bodies still hurdled around her, their grudgeful gazes still present as before. Layan could not help but roll her eyes as she watched the scene play out in front of her. Were they really so deep in their hatred that they could not bear to take instructions from someone who was not Tenakth? A man could die because of their insolence!
“Do as she says,” the leader commanded, his voice demanding attention.
The healers glanced towards him before returning their gaze back to Layan. They huffed with disdain and stood up to their feet before pacing towards the exit.
Layan let out a deep sigh as she closed her eyes. This was going to be a long and tiresome afternoon. She glanced at the wounded warrior and soon met his weakened stare. His eyes grew wide as he became aware of her, his mouth agape as he bared his teeth. He uttered the same tongue as those before, mentioning the same word as they had done. Skeeva . Layan was in no mood to listen any further and turned her attention to the older woman knelt beside her. She had ashen-gray hair that was styled in a mohawk and her skin was painted in red and blue pigment, different to those of the wounded soldier and her leader. She could not deny the woman’s strong presence, though her wrinkled skin showed she had spent many years on this Earth. Even so, she looked at Layan with a gentle gaze, something the rest had not.
“What is his name?”
“Kotallo,” the older woman replied, her pitiful stare falling on the wounded warrior, her lips forming into a twist. “ Kotallo .”
Layan nodded and turned her attention back to the trembling warrior. She placed a gentle hand against his bare chest, hoping the body warmth from her skin would calm him. “Kotallo,” she spoke softly. “Do not fear. I am here to help—”
“Do not touch me, outlander !” Kotallo spat, slapping away her touch with his unmaimed hand.
But before he could continue, Layan noticed his eyes dilate as they became dreary and spiritless. His breath soon appeared irregular as his chest rose and fell at an uneven pace. Layan quickly placed the back of her hand against his forehead and felt his skin was clammy and sweaty.
“He is going into shock,” Layan revealed as she pressed her fingers hastily against his neck, her focus showing his rapid pulse and heart rate. “I need those bandages and blankets now!”
The older woman moved to stand up but paused when the rest of the healers strode briskly through the entrance, blankets and clean cloth in their hands. Layan breathed a brief sigh of relief before turning her attention to Kotallo. “Stay with me, Kotallo.” She reached for her needle and opened the small bottle of alcohol before pouring it on the steel. “I need you to stay with me.”
Layan watched as the other healers wrapped Kotallo’s pale body in thick blankets, sheltering him from the severe cold he must have felt shivering across his skin. They placed new pieces of cloth against his maimed arm and added pressure to try and stop the bleeding. Kotallo gasped for a moment, a sign that he was still responsive and alert.
Layan quickly used Fashav’s knife to cut away a piece of string before dampening the tip against her tongue and wrapping it around the needle. She had never had to sow together an amputated limb before, but today seemed as good a time as any. Besides she had the focus to guide her step by step with the process. All she needed to do was follow it to the letter.
Soon, she felt a strong grip on her shoulder, forcing her to look up at the leader towering over her.
“Do what you can for him,” he spoke, his gaze focused on Kotallo as he shivered beneath the covers. He turned his attention back to Layan. “But once you are finished here you will meet me in the throne room. There is much that needs to be discussed.”
Layan furrowed her brows. His abrupt proposition making her zone out of what was going on around her.
“Dekka will guide you,” he declared, nodding at the older woman knelt beside her.
Dekka placed her hand against her temple in salute. “Yes, Chief.”
Layan watched narrowed-eyed as the Chief glanced at Kotallo for one last time before disappearing through the curtained entrance, his large figure fading into the distance. She could not help but feel like she had walked into another situation that she did not want to be in. Nevertheless, It was becoming clear that the longer she stayed here the less opportunities she would have to finally leave. Perhaps she should have gone when she had the chance. But she knew it would have been cruel to leave Varl in a place he did not know.
Layan let out a regretful sigh. It seemed she would have to accept her fate and stay here for a while longer, see what this
Chief
wished to speak to her about…