For no particular reason, right seemed the best path to take, so Yuiv tightened his grip on the bridle and led the animal down a street lined on both sides with multi-story brick buildings. He had gone a little over a half a mile when his soggy boot lost traction on the flooded pavement and he slipped, falling face first into a puddle. He rose up on his hands and stared at his warped reflection rippling in the settling water. A crushing weight of defeat fell over him, opening up a torrent of tears to which he clenched his eyes shut and sobbed, “Where I’as supposta go? Sitrell’as gonna die!”
As if in answer to his plea, something gently brushed Yuiv’s mind. Look up whispered the same invisible voice that had spoken to him before. Yuiv obeyed, raised his head, and then he saw it: a wooden sign swinging in the wind and rain from a brass pole. Carved on the front of the marquee was the stylized figure of an angel rasing her hands above her head and holding a ball of shining light. It was the symbol for healing. The building displaying the sign, only a short distance down the street, was a hospital.
Relief, like a burst of sunlight, dispelled the weight of Yuiv’s despair and he leapt to his feet, spun around, and almost shouted to the unconscious Sitrell, “Hospital!” As fast as the relief had come, it departed, replaced by panic as Yuiv saw blood oozing out of Sitrell’s mouth and dribbling down his chin. Yuiv moved closer to examine him, again placing his index finger under the man’s nose. To his horror, he felt nothing. There was no breath, no life. Sitrell wasn’t breathing.
“No, no-no-no-no,” Yuiv shook his head as new tears warmed his cheeks. “You’as can’t die cuza me, Sitrell!” Yuiv shot a desperate glance at the hospital and was about to break into a panicked sprint when he heard it again: You can heal him. It was the same woman’s voice, and as before Yuiv fought it, shaking his head and taking another step toward the hospital. Again it recurred, although this time it wasn’t a featherlike touch on his mind but a forceful shock that seemed to thrill through his entire body, stopping him in his tracks. You have to heal him or he’ll die!
Yuiv froze, stunned by the unmistakable reality of the voice. He slowly turned to stare at Sitrell, “How?” he sobbed aloud.
As if in answer to his question, an explosion flared to life inside Yuiv’s chest, feeling like someone had lit a fire inside him. The sensation spread like lightning from his chest to his extremities, like it energized every single cell in his body. Yuiv’s panic and fears retreated. They didn’t entirely vanish, but Yuiv felt as though they had been repressed or muted. His thoughts cleared, and he felt such a complete sense of confidence and clarity that the thought of miraculously healing a man on the point of death didn’t seem so ridiculous.
Yuiv stepped toward Sitrell and reached up and touched the man’s bluing face. A burst of invisible force surged from within Yuiv, shooting from his chest, down his arm, and out of his hand. Then it was gone―the inner fire, the calm clarity, the confidence. Yuiv’s fears and fatigue rushed in at him all at once and he collapsed to the soaked pavement. It was more than just his previous weariness returning that had driven him to the ground, Yuiv felt expended, drained of what little vitality he had had left. Unable to rise, he lay in the rain a full minute before he had strength enough to sit up. While he strained to make his legs obey him in an effort to stand, his attention was seized by the sound of Sitrell rasping for air. Yuiv looked up at his friend, still unconscious and expelling blood from his mouth, but breathing. Sitrell was alive. But why was he still unconscious? He stood and checked the wound in Sitrell’s side. He’s still bleeding? Somehow Yuiv had expected the bullet wound to have disappeared, blood and all.
“I don’t get it,” Yuiv murmured in an attempt to invoke another telepathic reply, but there was nothing. Confused and frustrated, he looked down the street at the hospital. I had better get him to a doctor.
It took a frustratingly long time for Yuiv to muster the energy to walk. His current condition made leading the warhorse only a few hundred feet down the block a slow process. Yuiv reached the front entrance of the four-story brick building. Panting in exhaustion, he glanced up at Sitrell and realized that he would not be able to lift him out of the saddle, let alone carry him inside. So Yuiv tied the warhorse to a hitching post, left Sitrell sleeping in the saddle, and stumbled toward the hospital’s large, arched double-doors.
Soaked boots squirted water with every step he took as he lurched down a white hallway toward a row of doors lining the wall of a connecting corridor. The small reception table set opposite the hospital entrance was unoccupied, forcing Yuiv to wander the building looking for someone to help him. Upon turning into the adjoining hall, Yuiv slipped on his water trail and fell hard against the polished, wood floor. As he struggled to stand, he caught sight of a plump woman clad in a grey dress waddling toward him. She wore spectacles, carried a tablet, and a disapproving frown.
“What’re you doing in here?”
“I’as need help,” was all Yuiv was able to say before the woman gripped his arm and dragged him back in the direction of the hospital’s entrance.
“I’m sorry, but we are no longer offering vagrants nightly asylum.” The monstrous woman’s grip pressed into Yuiv’s bicep causing him to wince in pain.
“But I…” Yuiv attempted.
“You look young enough to win the pity of Matron Salyrus. Her orphanage is two blocks east of here. She won’t be happy to be roused in the middle of the night, but she’s never been known to turn away a child, especially when…”
Fueled by a burst of indignation Yuiv wrenched his arm free and stepped back from the fat nurse. “I’as need a doctor!”
The nurse’s cheeks colored in anger. “You don’t look sick.”
She shot out a hand to re-capture Yuiv’s arm, but he dodged by taking another step backward. “For my friend, he’as outside an hurt bad!”
The fat nurse scowled. “I will not be lied to just so you can get out of the rain!”
Angry disbelief rose up inside Yuiv. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t trying to cause trouble or break the law, and he wasn’t lying. He just wanted to help his friend, who was dying while this self-righteous beast of a woman wasted time Sitrell didn’t have.
“I’as not lyin!” shouted Yuiv.
“If you don’t leave, then I’ll be forced to summon the Royal Guard!” the fat nurse threatened.
“Good!” Yuiv shouted, hoping that someone else would overhear him. “I’as been’d look’n for em all night!”
Yuiv’s effort to attract attention paid off as he saw a tall, beardless, bespectacled man dressed in a white smock round the corner and quickly approach them.
“What is the meaning of this?” barked the doctor.
The nurse turned and opened her mouth to explain, but Yuiv spoke first. “My friend’as out in the rain, bleedin an dyin!” Yuiv angrily pointed toward a window. “He needsa doctor!”
The doctor glanced at the nurse who rolled her eyes.
“An she ain’t helpin!” Yuiv shouted as he threw an accusing finger at the fat nurse.
The nurse shot Yuiv a baleful glare before forcing a smile as she addressed the doctor. “Dr. Valarious, this vagrant is lying so he can get a bed for the…”
“I’as not lyin!” shouted Yuiv.
The fat nurse turned away from the doctor, attempting another grab at Yuiv’s arm, but stopped as the man put a hand on her shoulder. He brushed the nurse back as he stepped in between the two.
“What’s your name, son?” The doctor asked in a patient tone.
“Yuiv.”
“And where is your hurt friend?”
Yuiv glanced down to the far end of the hall in the direction of the hospital entrance. “I’as left em out front. He’as sleep, but he’as bleedin real bad.”
“And what’s his name?”
It was obvious to Yuiv that the doctor shared the opinion of his fat nurse, and was only acting kind in an attempt to diffuse the situation. For some reason this made Yuiv even angrier and he e
xploded, “COMMANDER SITRELL TRAUEL!”
“Commander Trauel?” the doctor blurted.
“Ridiculous!” scoffed the fat nurse.
“No,” the doctor shook his head. “Commander Trauel passed through Hirath early last week. His regiment was heading to Lisidra and I treated one of his men for Hiska cough.” The doctor looked down at Yuiv. “Quickly, son, take us to him.”
Adrenaline invoked by Yuiv’s anger gave him the energy to jog as he led Doctor Valarious and his fat nurse out of the hospital to where he left Sitrell passed out in his horse’s saddle. At seeing the unconscious Amigus commander, the doctor issued terse instructions to his nurse, who acknowledged them with a bob of her head before trotting back into the hospital as fast as her chubby legs would carry her. A moment later, three men dressed in white aprons burst out of the hospital’s front doors pushing a wheeled gurney. They rushed up to the warhorse, cut the cloth binding Sitrell’s hands around the animal’s neck, and effortlessly lifted him out of the saddle and onto the gurney.
Yuiv made sure to grab Sitrell’s blood-soaked satchel from the pommel of the horse’s saddle before anyone could discover what it held. He followed as Doctor Valarious and his three assistants wheeled Sitrell into the building, down several corridors, and up two floors by means of a ramp. As they rushed through the hospital, Yuiv watched them remove the rest of Sitrell’s armor and the makeshift bandage he had tied around Sitrell’s wound.
“How did this happen?” Valarious demanded of Yuiv as they wheeled Sitrell through a set of double-doors into a room sectioned off by white curtains.
Yuiv stammered before answering, “H-he’as shot.”
Valarious nodded as he and his three assistants transferred Sitrell from the gurney onto an operating table. A waiting nurse presented Valarious with a basin of water in which he began to wash, while a second nurse wheeled a table filled with sterile cutting tools to his side. A third nurse, far more attractive and kindly than the fat one, gently steered Yuiv away from the operating table and led him out into the hall.
“You need to wait out here,” she said.
“He’as gonna be ok?” Yuiv asked with a frightened earnestness, for he had caught the grim look on Valarious’ face when the man had seen Sitrell’s wound.
The nurse flashed a reassuring smile. “Doctor Valarious is our chief surgeon, so trust me when I say that the commander is in good hands.”
Yuiv nodded and the nurse placed a comforting hand on his shoulder before turning and disappearing back into the operating room. After she was gone, he sighed and leaned against the white plastered hospital wall. Relieved that, at last, Sitrell was getting the help he needed, Yuiv’s bone-deep weariness reasserted itself. He sank to the floor, hugging the blood-soaked satchel to his chest. He was determined not to let anyone examine its contents until he could return it to Sitrell. Then what? What will happen to me when Sitrell wakes? Will he have me arrested and taken to the capital in a prisoner wagon? Despite his anxiety, Yuiv’s weariness overwhelmed him. He stifled a yawn as the world around him muted and blurred. Awake, I have to stay awake. He straightened.
Yuiv glanced down at his right hand, recalling the feeling of power that had moved through him when he had touched Sitrell, a touch that had resuscitated the dying Amigus commander. Had he only imagined it? By some coincidence of timing, had Sitrell’s body just decided to start breathing again? He tried to believe those explanations, but deep down he knew that somehow he had healed Sitrell. The scope of the mystery confused Yuiv’s exhaustion-muddled mind, and he found himself again slipping into sleep.
Have to stay awake. He once again forced himself straight against the wall.
What had happened to him in that moment of life and death desperation? What was that feeling, that power, that fire that had filled him? He stared with weighted eyelids at the drab wall opposite him, helpless as his body slipped against his will to sleep. It was in those final seconds of consciousness that Yuiv heard the disembodied woman’s voice return, whispering a single word: Jia.
What did that mean?
But when Yaokken tried to take the crown off, he couldn’t. It had dug into his skull with tiny metal teeth and would not come off of his head, though he pulled with all of his strength until blood ran down his face.
Chapter 9
Tyra
Yuiv’s nightmare of being eternally burned alive in a basement furnace was interrupted by a kindly baritone voice calling his name. He opened his eyes and found himself lying on the Hirath city hospital floor with Doctor Valarious leaning over him. Yuiv sat up, his left hip throbbing from lying on the polished hardwood. He flailed in a panic, calming once he found the black knight’s satchel crumpled up on the floor at his feet.
“I’as jes restin my eyes.” Yuiv reached up to rub out a kink in his neck.
Valarious smiled as he straightened. “You’ve been asleep for a while.”
Yuiv winced as his neck rubbing evoked a stab of pain. “No, I’as jes dropped off.”
Valarious shook his head. “It’s been almost five hours.”
Yuiv glanced up at Valarious and then the sight of the doctor’s blood-spattered smock shocked him into full alertness and an attempt to rise. “Sitrell!”
Valarious again smiled as he put a hand on Yuiv’s shoulder and pushed him back to the floor. “It’s all right. You can rest. Commander Trauel will be fine.”
Yuiv relaxed, nodding to himself in relief as he sat back down. Valarious stared at Yuiv a long moment before saying, “You saved his life, you know.”
Yuiv looked up at the doctor and nodded, “I know’d.”
Valarious shook his head. “No, I don’t think you realize just how close to death he was. Stomach wounds like that don’t kill instantly, but they are lethal given enough time. Had you taken any more time getting him here, he would have most certainly died.” Valarious sighed as he removed his spectacles and wearily rubbed an eye. “In fact, I’m surprised he didn’t choke to death on his own blood, as much as we expelled from his lungs.”
Yuiv recalled the woman’s voice telling him that he had to heal Sitrell or he would die. Choking on his own blood? That’s why he stopped breathing, but I healed him. Again, the sensation of being filled with inner fire flashed across Yuiv’s memory. “But he’as be’d ok?”
Valarious nodded. “He’ll have to stay in bed for a few weeks, but as long as we can stave off infection, he should make a full recovery.”
Yuiv nodded as he exhaled in relief, “Good.”
Valarious glanced at the blood-soaked satchel. Catching the curiosity in the doctor’s eyes, Yuiv placed his hand on the bag and tugged it closer to him.
Valarious glanced back at Yuiv. “You said the commander was shot. Can you tell me what happened?”
Yuiv hesitated before answering, “He got’d in’as fight.”
Valarious squinted at Yuiv for a long moment before asking, “Where are his men?”
Guilt pricked Yuiv’s heart and he dropped his eyes to the floor. I killed them. “When’s can I’as talk to Sitrell?”
Disappointed by Yuiv’s reluctance to elaborate, Valarious sighed as he replaced his spectacles and said, “He’s sleeping right now and will likely not wake for several hours. I’ve just dispatched a messenger to summon Captain Klayon of the Royal Guard and I imagine he will be here within the hour. I’m sure he’ll want to interview you, but until then I’ll fetch a nurse to find you a cot so you can nap. You still look exhausted.”
Yuiv stared up at Valarious, mute as he wrestled to subdue a sudden surge of panic. “Thanks,” he finally managed.
Valarious smiled and tousled Yuiv’s hair before turning to head back into the operating room. Fear drove Yuiv to his feet and it was all he could do to restrain himself from breaking into a sprint down the hall. The captain of the Royal Guard was coming to investigate Sitrell’s sudden army-less return to Hirath, and he was going to want to talk to the boy who had saved the Amigus commander’s life. He was going to
find out what had happened in Lisidra, what Yuiv had done, and then the captain would arrest him. I won’t go back to prison!
“Wait!” Yuiv called out to Valarious just before the doctor made to push through the operating room doors. He turned back to face Yuiv. “I’as wanna see em.”
“He’s sleeping” Valarious said with a measure of surprise.
“I’as know’d” Yuiv nodded. “I’as jes wanna see em, jes for a spell.”
Valarious hesitated a moment before smiling and motioning for Yuiv to follow him.
Yuiv forced a smile, grabbed the blood-soaked satchel, and dashed after the doctor. Several nurses shot Valarious questioning glances as they saw Yuiv scamper into the operating room, to which the doctor replied, “It’s all right.” He then pointed Yuiv toward a corner of the room that had been sectioned off by white curtains. “He’s over there.”
Yuiv nodded and unobtrusively made his way toward Sitrell’s bed while Valarious broke away to speak with another doctor. Upon reaching the corner of the room, Yuiv pulled apart two hanging curtains revealing a pale, slumbering Sitrell. His face had been washed clean of blood and a large, white bandage wrapped the lower part of his naked abdomen. Yuiv was relieved to hear Sitrell’s breath coming in a strong, steady rhythm, one free of obstruction. He really will be okay.
Yuiv cast a furtive glance back toward Valarious who stood near the entrance to the room still engaged in conversation with his colleague. Confident that he was not being watched, Yuiv took the opportunity to wrench a corner of Sitrell’s blanket free from the mattress and hurriedly stuffed the blood soaked satchel under the covers, between the sleeping man’s feet. He then did his best to re-tuck the bedding and make it appear undisturbed before turning to walk away. However, just as he was passing through the cloth partition, he heard a mental echo of his earlier prayer to the Creator, the one in which he promised repentance in exchange for deliverance from a fiery furnace, a prayer that he knew had been miraculously answered.
Heroes of the Crystal Star (Valcoria Book 1) Page 9