Chapter 3

 

“Garna, there are a lot of them this time!” A man ducked out of the tent and hurried towards them. He was on the small side and his back was bent with age.

“Welcome back, massina. Did any of them die coming through?” He asked Quinn curiously.

“No, Naveen.” She glanced behind her at Silas. “But this one is injured.”

Naveen peered around her. “Ooh, he’s a danen.”

Barkha winked at him. “He’ll be popular at the claiming ceremony.”

Naveen stepped closer to Silas and looked him up and down. “She will want him for herself.”

“That’s not fair,” Barkha pouted. “We should have the chance to fight - ”

“Enough, Barkha!” Quinn pulled Silas toward the tent that Naveen just exited. “Fionn, give the others some water. Naveen, come with me.”

She led Silas into the tent and pushed him toward a small stool. “Sit down.”

He sat down. It was awkward with his hands chained behind his back and he winced as she bent until her face was directly in front of his. “Naveen is going to examine you. If you try to harm him, I will hurt you in ways you’ve never dreamed of. Do you understand me?”

Silas stared into her grey eyes. “Who are you?”

She gripped his chin and squeezed it hard. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” Silas pulled his head free of her hand.

“Good.” She stepped behind him and nodded to Naveen.

“Hello, I’m Naveen.” The man smiled at him in a friendly manner.

“Silas.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Naveen brushed back Silas’ thick dark hair and studied the cut on his temple. He probed gently at it and Silas hissed in pain.

“Do you feel sick to your stomach? Light headed?” The old man questioned as he turned and rummaged through a leather bag on the floor of the tent.

“A little,” Silas admitted.

The man nodded. “Aye, I’m not surprised. It is a nasty gash.”

He looked at Quinn. “He’ll need stitches.”

“Can it wait until we return home?”

Naveen shook his head. “I do not believe so. The wound is not clotting very well. It would be best if I do it now.”

He glanced down at Silas. “This will hurt I’m afraid.”

Silas leaned away from the old man. “Are you a doctor?”

Naveen smiled. “Well, in this world we’re called kalans but it is the same thing. Mostly.”

“What do you mean this world?” Silas frowned at him as Naveen rinsed the wound with water.

Naveen didn’t reply, just hummed softly under his breath as he wiped away the streaks of blood from Silas’ temple and face. He applied pressure with a soft cloth to the wound on his head for a few minutes, studying Silas’ body and face as he did so.

“Garna. He’s good looking isn’t he?” He grinned at Quinn.

Quinn snorted softly. “He had all of them glowing like fireflies.”

Naveen laughed. “Hell, I don’t blame them. If I could glow I’d be glowing right now.” He squeezed Silas’ arm through his thin shirt. “He’s strong too.”

“Naveen,” Quinn said softly and the old man blushed.

“I was just feeling the material of his shirt, that’s all.”

“Now you sound like Barkha.”

Quinn spoke in a disapproving tone but Silas could hear the affection under it. Naveen was obviously someone she cared deeply about.

“Well, we’d better get this done,” Naveen said cheerfully. “Hold his head, massina.”

Silas stiffened when he felt Quinn’s hands circle his head and hold it firmly.

“Sorry about this, Silas. I’ll try to be quick.” Naveen held a needle and thread in his hand and he poked the needle through the skin of Silas’ temple.

Silas jerked with pain and tried to move his head but Quinn held him firmly. “Easy, danen,” she murmured. “It will be over soon.”

Silas gritted his teeth and leaned his head against Quinn’s firm abdomen. He could feel sweat breaking out on his forehead as Quinn moved one hand down his face and cupped his chin firmly. She held him steady as Naveen continued to sew the gash closed.

As Naveen began to hum softly again, Silas hissed in pain. His chained hands latched onto Quinn’s firm thighs. He dug in hard with his fingers but if it hurt she made no indication nor did she try to move away. He shoved his head against Quinn, trying subconsciously to move away from the pain. She used her other hand to squeeze and rub one large shoulder.

“Almost finished, danen. Take deep breaths.” She continued to rub his shoulder and he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

“What does danen mean?” He muttered.

“Big one,” she replied.

There was another sharp stab of pain and he twitched his head. Naveen frowned. “Hold him steady please, Quinn.”

She strengthened her grip on his head. “For a danen you’re kind of a bala.”

Naveen snorted soft laughter and Silas frowned. “Bala means?”

“Baby.” Quinn’s full lips curved upwards and Silas squeezed her thighs again.

“You try getting stitches without anesthetic. Then we’ll see who’s a bala.”

Naveen actually laughed out loud this time and he patted Silas’ head affectionately. “Oh, danen, you know not what you speak of. The massina carries many battle scars.”

Silas frowned. They had a weird way of speaking. Forgetting the odd words that were peppered throughout their speech, they had an almost old-fashioned dialect with a slight accent that made them hard to understand from time to time.

As Naveen tied the thread and cut it, Quinn squeezed his shoulder. “Well done, bala.”

She pulled free of his grip as Naveen rinsed the wound clean and peered out the opening of the tent. “The weather still hasn’t cleared.”

Naveen shrugged. “It can take a few days - you know that.”

“Aye, I do. Although I wonder if there won’t be two this time.”

“That has only happened once before, Quinn, and it was many years ago.”

She turned around and frowned at Silas’ white face.

“Danen, are you okay?”

Silas swallowed thickly. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Garna!” She grabbed a wooden bucket that was by the opening of the tent and rushed over. She had just enough time to shove it in front of him before he was leaning over and vomiting into it. After a few minutes he straightened, panting harshly.

Naveen wiped his mouth with a damp cloth and then used another to wipe the sweat from his brow and the back of his neck.

“He has a concussion I think.” Quinn frowned.

Naveen gave her a quizzical look. “Concussion?”

“It’s a,” she gestured vaguely, “head injury. It’s addled his brains a bit.”

Naveen nodded. “Ah, like a kadeen?”

“Yes. He’ll have to be watched through the night and woken every few hours.”

Naveen held up his hands. “Count me out, Quinn.”

She scowled angrily at him. “Are you a kalan or not, Naveen?”

“I am.” Her anger didn’t frighten him. “But I am also an old man who needs his sleep. I will be of no use to you if I am up every few hours all night.”

Quinn rolled her eyes and he shrugged. “Ask Barkha to watch him. No doubt she will find that a very pleasing assignment.”

Quinn snorted. “Aye, but I want him woken every few hours, not fucked every few hours.”

Naveen laughed and wiped Silas’ face and neck again. “Then I guess you’re on kalan duty tonight, massina.”

She sighed and crouched in front of Silas. “How do you feel, danen?”

“I have a bad headache,” Silas mumbled. “Could I have a drink of water?”

“Yes.” She gestured at Naveen who brought a tin cup filled with water. Quinn held it to his mouth and he drank greedily. The water was freezing cold and tasted amazing.

“Thanks,” he said hoarsely. He was suddenly very tired and he wanted to close his eyes and sleep.

“Danen, take this.” Naveen was holding a white packet of yellow powder in front of his mouth. It smelled like dead skunk and Silas wrinkled his nose and turned his face away.

“It smells awful.”

“It will help with your headache. Take it,” Quinn said sternly.

He swallowed the bitter powder and Naveen held another cup of water to his mouth to wash it down with.

“Naveen, help him to my bed. I will get the others settled and return shortly.” She hesitated. “Do not let your guard down. He is injured and bound but remember his strength.”

“I’ll be careful,” Naveen replied.