Page 21 of Blood and War
When she pounced, knife ready, Kellan felt his own body fly. Like hell she’d get it first. The boar squealed as it wrestled its way out from underneath her, fleeing in a frenzy into the thick brambles.
“Are you stupid?” He hollered, not bothering to look back as he instinctively followed the animal into the brush. His own blade left his hands with enough force to break bones. Embedding itself into the skull of the boar who skidded to a halt as it fell.
“You almost let it get away!” Still yelling, his feet carried him toward her as she sat on the ground panting for air. A crimson stream trickled down her forehead, indicating she’d been injured. The boar had nicked her with a tusk during the short tussle. She’d been lucky she hadn’t lost an eye. Or her life. Kellan nearly laughed at the thought.
“I would have had it if you didn’t come flying at me.” She grumbled, peeling her body out of the dirt, brushing it from her pants. “I played every part in that as you did.” Demitria was quick to add.
“Whose blade took it down.”
“That’s beside the point!” Tossing her hands in the air, she was shouting. If anything else was around she would draw unnecessary attention to them. “That takedown happened because of me! It only got away because you’re the idiot who nearly crushed me!”
Anger swelled but he squashed it. At least she’d tried.
“We’ll share it.” Through gritted teeth, he let a sigh slip through his lips. “Now would you keep your voice down?” Kellan had been equally as guilty of not keeping his own down, but she’d managed to push every single one of his buttons. He blamed it entirely on her.
Before she could make another remark he returned to the boar. Making quick work of the carcass as he cleaned and skinned the animal, a skill he’d learned back home from a very early age—taking with them only what they needed. He could sense the scavengers all around now. The smell of death and blood in the air having drawn them out from wherever they’dbeen hiding. Their near yelling match hadn’t helped much either, but Kellan was confident they’d stay away given his presence. The beings could take what they wouldn’t use, and he knew none of what the beast offered would go to waste.
“You’re bleeding.” He mentioned as they neared the cavern. Demitria touched a finger to her head, pulling it away to confirm.
“So I am.” She groaned. Inside, the girl returned to the dripping water. Cupping it in her hands and splashing it to the wound. Her face scrunched into a wince at the contact, but she continued anyway, flushing it out as best she could.
Useless. These creatures were useless. With his own groan, Kellan put the meat down and joined her. Washing the blood off his hands before tearing a small chunk of cloth from his cloak and soaking the fabric and stepping before her.
“Put pressure on it.” She didn’t protest as he placed the fabric against the wound, staunching the bleeding. “These beasts carry disease. You need to make sure it stays clean.”
“What I need are antiseptics.” She said, but didn’t move away.
“Just stop the bleeding. I’ll find you a medicinal plant.” He didn’t give her the chance to utter another word or stop him before he left the cavern. He’d spotted the fauna while they were out hunting the boar, and knew it wouldn’t take him long. He’d be back before she could even think about running away.
When he returned a few minutes later, the girl sat along a low edge, still clutching the fabric to her forehead. Kellan said nothing as he rinsed the plant under the steady drip before making his way toward her.
“Hand me the cloth.” He held out his hand and she did as he’d said, placing the bloodied fabric in his outstretched palm. He rinsed that too before returning to her side, laying the fabric on the smooth stone. Swiping a loose rock from the floor, hebegan grinding the plant into the fabric, mulching it up as best he could, given the materials at hand.
“This has medicinal properties that will help fight off infection.”
“Yarrow.” She nodded, her body relaxing as she watched him work.
“You know of it?”
The girl nodded again. “Someone back home taught me a few things. We make do with what we’ve got these days.” She gave him a sad smile.
“Where I’m from, you typically chew the plant before putting it on a wound. I’ll save you the horror.” Demitria made a choking noise, and he could have sworn she’d nearly laughed.
“I appreciate the gesture…I think.” She looked away from him as he picked the fabric up from the rock. Kellan said nothing as he dipped his finger into the green mixture, swiping it across her forehead as he packed it into the wound.
He was only keeping her alive to get his answers. She had to live long enough for him to reunite with his siblings, then figure out what the council wanted. After that, he didn’t care if she keeled over on the spot.
Eleven
DEMITRIA
Warmth.
Demitria didn’t know when the cavern had gotten so warm. The night had grown cold rather quickly, almost to the point of freezing, as if a layer of frost had swept over the cavern, turning her core to ice. She’d curled up as close to the burning embers of the fire as she could last night, watching as the flames danced across the walls. Willing the heat to envelope her in its warm embrace until she’d drifted off into a deep sleep, and it had still barely been enough to keep her from shivering.
Her eyes wouldn’t open. Reveling in the heat that now radiated through her. Reminding her of the community back home. The warmth of her bed, curling up with the quilt that Jace had Stella make for her birthday a few years ago. It had been mostly cotton, made up of an array of greens, purples, and blue fabric. He’d spent months slowly gathering the supplies needed for it, acquiring most from the traders, but others he’d gotten from their trips beyond the walls. The trips that she hadn’t been able to go on with him. Demitria remembered the crippling anxiety waiting for him to return. That feeling of complete helplessness as she spent each day pacing the streets wondering if he’d come home. She couldn’t think about the community anymore. Going home wasn’t an option now, not with the price on her head. Unless she found some way to get out and figure all this shit out, she wouldn’t see them again. Wouldn’t see Jace again, and she didn’t know what unnerved her more. The realization of never seeing his smile again, or her impending death at the hands of the Horseman.
Stretching the aches from her limbs from several nights of sleeping on a cold, hard surface, Demitria froze. Breath catching in her throat as the solid wall of muscle behind her stirred, ripping her from the sleep induced grogginess. It took a heartbeat for that fogginess to pass before she was pulling the dagger from the sheath around her thigh. The Horseman hadn’t taken her blade back last night, but from what she’d gathered, it was nothing more than him being cocky. Knowing he was invincible. That she couldn’t touch him.She’d show him.
