Chapter 6

Washing the blood from her hands Jillian saw that they shook. At least they had not when it counted. She had managed to clean the infection from all his wounds save for a deep one in his side. As a result she had to cut into the infection in an effort to drain it. The stench had twisted her stomach, but she had remained strong, cleansing again and again as she squeezed the infection out. The man had not staid unconscious throughout but had awoken, fighting her like a madman, reopening his other wounds. In the end he had lost consciousness again but the damage had been done.

She lay the cloth down and cast a glance to the form that now lay quietly in the bed. Jillian knew far more about the man than she wished to know. Had she really wanted another human to be with her? Why was this one sent? Why not some gentle man or woman who knew compassion? The old woman was correct, he had shed a great deal of blood. It seemed, if she could believe his ranting, everyone wanted him dead for his transgressions against them and those they loved. This man was not without guilt for the things he had done. Those memories would not torment him now if he felt differently.

Jillian stepped outside the hut into the moonlight casting down through the trees as they swayed in the cooling fall breeze. He was a soldier, was that not his job? She knew he had thought his father the emperor and had felt the anger and hate he had the day he found out otherwise when he relived it in his delirium. She did not know for sure what he did to the man who deceived him, whatever it was she was sure it was but another dark spot on the man’s black soul. She waited there, outside her hut, exhausted but unable to sleep. With another human present she feared her nightmares more than anything. Slowly the moon gave way to the sun and early morning light flooded down on her.

Pushing him from her mind as best she could, for he consumed her thoughts every moment of the day and into the night where his muscled body was strong again and he came to her of his own will, she went to the river to wash herself for the first time in the days he had come to her. The water was cool and relaxing. She used the sliver of soap she had left. Mara had known how to make soap, and Jillian learned that knowledge did not necessarily make for success. Though she knew all the ingredients and the components that went into the making of it her soap always ended in disaster. Soon she would not be able to bath for her ignorance, at least not with the soft smelling soap she so loved. She dare not ask the Druids, for their price might be her life and despite her tormented loneliness she suspected she would never welcome being one of their sacrifices.

After washing her hair she lathered the soap gently onto her cloth and began washing her body. She slowed her scrubbing when she reached the scar on her leg. The result of falling out of a tree Mara had told her time and again not to climb. She had tried to hide the deep gash, suffering through its long and painful healing assuming it was one of the many secrets each thought they hid from the other. Truthfully they could keep nothing hidden from the other, after all, Mara had raised her and they had lived many years together, just the two of them. Jillian knew the depression that sometimes had taken over her maid from their sentence of solitude though she tried hard to hide it. Jillian never confronted her about it but went out of her way to either try to cheer her up or grant her the complete solitude she sought at those times, depending on her mood. Likewise she knew Mara saw the debilitating fear that came to Jillian in the night, and sometimes during the day, that she would infect the entire world with the evil that lurked inside her.

The soap slipped from her grasp and into the water. Jillian lunged for it, lost her footing and fell head first into the water with a gasp before she closed off her airway so as not to drown herself. She came up sputtering looking franticly around herself for the soap. It had caught the current and was being swept quickly away. Lunging forward she did her best to swim for it in the shallow water. She banged her knees and shins on the larger rocks in her effort and finally stood back on her feet to race after it but it only got farther and farther away. Finally, it excited the strong current and entered the deep pool of water that to Jillian appeared as if there was no bottom. It caught in the swirl and went under. She saw it spit back out only to be sucked into the depths again.

Jillian stopped at the ledge, the water swirling about her, sucking her toward the abyss. She watched several moments for the soap to return to the surface but when it did not she drew in a breath and her courage and plunged in. Fear squeezed at her chest quicker than the lack of fresh air as her arms pulled her down and down. What lived in this stretch of dark water? Could this be where the dragons of those tells she heard from early childhood went to seek safety from the hunters. They could be now coming after her enraged that they had to give up everything to make way for her kind. Or even worse there could be man eating fish here, dark slimy creatures that had never seen the light of day. What if this was the place Cerberus dwelled when he was not guarding the gates of the Underworld.

Suddenly she saw it, hanging in limbo just below her. With one final kick she reached it, wrapped her hand around it than swam madly for the surface. As soon as her head broke above water she pulled in a great gasp of air. She wasted no time swimming for the ledge and the safety it offered from the monsters of the deep. She could feel them grabbing for her as she pulled herself back into the rapid flow of water as it plunged over the edge and disappeared into the darkness.

Panting she sat in the current for a few moments catching her breath, holding onto what was left of the soap as if it were a life line. Perhaps it was, for it was the last thing they had done together that day before Pluto had come for Mara in her sleep.

She heard it. Coming quickly, like a thousand bats swooping down on her. Jillian scrambled to her feet, gripping the soap tightly in her hand so as not to lose it again, she dashed for the bank. She could not let them take her here in the water for she was sure that would mean her death. She heard the voices with the beating of the wings, she could not make out what they said. Familiar voices but unfamiliar just the same. She wanted to stop and listen to them, to hear what they said but dared not.

With a strong leap she sprang from the water and landed on the bank. She moved a few more paces from the edge before dropping onto her knees, her world whirling about her. The taste of blood came to her mouth and she knew she had lost the fight as blackness enveloped her.

She heard the birds singing and felt a bug crawl across her hand. Slowly she opened her eyes and cringed at the sunlight that flowed down over her. The sun had progressed across the sky, to its peak and appeared to just be descending toward night. She realized she had lain there hours but could not find the energy to rise. A few more moments she laid there, her head full of fog before she slowly recalled her dash for the soap in the river hours before. Did she still have it? She would have to see in a moment for she could not find the strength just yet to raise a finger. With her memory of the river returning came with it the knowledge that she had not a stitch of clothing on. Her skin was not as fair as it once had been but she knew despite that her hours in the sun might see her burnt but numbness still reined over her body.

Jillian lay there longer as she struggled to reclaim her body from the darkness that tried often to take her. Slowly she rose to a sitting position. She had wallowed about turning the dirt into mud from her wet body and hair. Her tongue had been damaged on either side from her teeth but she knew it would be later in the day before she would feel the extent of the pain. She looked down at her hands and the bar of soap in one of them. It was no longer a sliver but a pulp when she had squeezed it so tightly in her hand. It was then she cried, the tears doing nothing but taking more energy from her already worn out body.

She rolled onto her knees, pausing on all fours as she drew in more air and tried to quiet her shaking limbs. So tired, she just wanted to lie down but knew she had to get back to her hut. Then the memory of him came back to her and she worried briefly about his well being. She had been gone a long time, a part of the night, all morning and a part of the afternoon. Long enough.

Finally Jillian staggered to her feet, grasping a tree as she straightened to steady herself. Her legs felt like they would give out from under her. She stood there for as long as she dared before stumbling through the trees along the river bank. It seemed like it took the rest of the afternoon to reach her clothes and by the time she did the mud has dried to her. She gingerly stepped into the water and sitting washed herself again. Again she dropped the soap and on a cry of anguish she watched the current take it in the direction it had earlier. Only this time she could do nothing but watch it disappear from sight before climbing to her feet. Gathering her clothing she did not bother to don it but shuffled toward the hut. Entering, one glance at her bed and she saw the man still breathed. Unable to do anything for him she dropped her clothes onto the floor and lying down on them she let the exhaustion claim her.