Chapter 15

Harlan and her kidnappers rode into their home village of Rathara at nightfall. Although she’d lived on AEssyria a long time and was used to riding hyperias, she had never ridden days and days at a time and it was murder. She jumped off her mount and collapsed to one knee. Her legs were cramped and hurting. Sulla came over, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to a small run-down shack on the edge of what looked like the village center. “My brother’s in here,” he said, thrusting her inside.

Harlan walked into the shack and blinked for a few moments trying to adjust to the poor light. The only illumination in the room was a thick yellow candle on the bedside table. Next to the bed were two women, an older female and another quite young. Their resemblance made Harlan believe they were mother and daughter. The older female wore a ragged peasant dress with a soiled blue shawl over her shoulders and the younger one wore a simple tan dress. Sulla pushed past Harlan with two more candles in his hand. He placed one on a battered dresser and the other on a table by the door. It helped, but not much.

“Who is this?” the older female said, staring hard at Harlan.

“A doctor,” Sulla answered.

“But she’s human,” the older female persisted.

“That’s right. What of it?”

“Where did you find her?”

Sulla pushed Harlan toward the bed and turned on the woman. “Stop with your questions. It’s enough that I found her,” he snarled at her.

The females moved away from the bed so Harlan could examine the patient. The foul stench of infection had struck her the moment she was pushed into the shack but as she moved closer it increased exponentially. Harlan removed the blanket covering the patient and almost gagged. He was a young male, probably close to Sulla’s two hundred years. He was naked and his dark green skin was ashen and covered in a thick sheen of sweat. Harlan spotted a deep, pus filled stab wound in the man’s abdomen. The smell of necrotic flesh sent her salivary glands into overtime and she suppressed the urge to dry heave. What the hell am I going to do? There’s no way I can save this man in such an advanced stage of infection.

“Well?” Sulla said.

Harlan took a deep breath in but didn’t look at him. “I’ll need my bag,” she said. She’d do the only thing she could; she’d keep him alive as long as she could and make him as comfortable as possible until he died, and he was most definitely going to die. She didn’t need a thermometer to feel the intense fever ravaging him. He was septic for sure, and even if they were in a hospital she didn’t know if she could save him.

Sulla left the shack and came back in with her bag. He was about to close the door when she said, “No. Please leave it open.” The stench of the wound coupled with the heat of the windowless dwelling was almost too much for her. Sulla opened the door wide and made a gesture for the two females to leave. They scurried out casting nervous looks at Harlan. Sulla came over and dropped Harlan’s medical bag at her feet.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said in a dangerous tone.

“What was your question?”

“Is he going to live?” Sulla said.

“I’ll do everything I can,” she replied. “I need some water and towels or cloth or whatever you have access to.”

Sulla’s face darkened in rage. “Is he going to live?”

“I don’t know,” she said, trying not to seal her fate too quickly.

“If he dies, so will you,” he growled at her.

Harlan had had enough of his threats. “Look, either you are going to help me or be in the way. Which is it? Because standing here threatening me is being in the way and does not help your brother’s situation. Now if you want me to try and save him then get me what I’ve asked for!”

Sulla left only to return with some tattered towels, and a wooden bucket of water. He placed them next to the bed. “What else?”

Harlan rolled up her sleeves and rummaged through her bag, finally pulling out a bottle of disinfectant. “I need you to hold him down,” she said as she poured some of the contents of the bottle into the water and washed her hands. “This is going to hurt like hell and he just might get violent.”

It took Harlan over two hours to clean out the wound with Sulla going out every few minutes to fetch her clean water. The worst sign of all was that, despite her fear that his brother might get violent, he didn’t so much as utter a groan. The poor man was already in a coma but Harlan kept up the illusion of hope. She fashioned a makeshift drain for the wound and shot him up with some antibiotics. He really needed intravenous fluids but these morons weren’t smart enough to steal any medical supplies when they took her. All they brought was her bag.

She stepped back and wiped some sweat off her forehead with her sleeve. “Now the only thing I can do is wait and see if he responds to the medication.”

Sulla didn’t utter a word. All he did was stare at her. And Harlan prayed for this guy to live long enough for Gavin to find her.