INJURED
1194 words
Galen, Erin, Theron, Rhiian
Galen moaned faintly. Erin bit her lip. He was heavy, and she wasn’t sure that she could make it to the horse with him leaning on her shoulder. But she had to. Galen had saved her. He had muttered the directions to her. She had to get there. For him. It didn’t matter that she had just met him. Nothing in the world mattered but getting him to the clump of bushes he had described. Not anymore, anyway.
Erin turned to look at the boy who leaned heavily on her shoulder. He was barely able to stay up, much less walk. His eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily. Blood drenched the left side of his tunic. More of the red liquid dripped from under his hair and into his pale face. Erin grimaced. She guessed that he wasn’t more than seventeen or eighteen years old. Too young to die.
“What was that?” Erin said, panting. Galen had muttered something unintelligible. When Erin looked over at the boy, she saw that his eyes were open now. They were a bright, deep green. Erin was sure she had seen them before, somewhere.
“Theron . . . . just . . . . over . . . . there,” Galen said, his voice barely more than a whisper, raising his arm weakly and pointing at a small clump of scrubby bushes on the side of the road. As he spoke, the bushes began to rustle and a short, chestnut horse with a saddle on its back, followed by a tallish man with scruffy brown hair and bow in his hand. An arrow was on the string.
“Galen!” the man said, astonishment exploding on his face, but fading abruptly to worry as he noticed the scarlet stain on the boy’s tunic. He dropped his bow after releasing the arrow and ran over, catching Galen as he slumped off of Erin’s shoulder, and guiding him onto the ground. The man bit his lip when the injured boy muttered something under his breath. He was unconscious, now, at least.
“This looks bad. Who’re you?” the man asked, looking over his shoulder at Erin.
“Erin,” she replied. She noticed now, with a jolt of surprise, that she was crying. Crying because a boy she didn’t know might die.
“I’m Theron,” the man said, sounding distant as he stared down at Galen. He smiled grimly and murmured, “You daft young fool,” under his breath. The chestnut horse nickered and nuzzled Galen’s cheek. With a faint grunt, the brown-haired man slipped his hands under the boy’s body and gently heaved him onto the horse’s back.
“Are you coming, Erin?” Theron asked as he settled Galen into the saddle. Erin nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. Theron whispered something in the horse’s ear, then patted him on the shoulder. The horse began to move forward in a long, smooth, ground-eating lope. Theron ran to keep up, and Erin was forced to almost sprint in order to make up for her shorter legs.
“What happened?” Theron asked.
“He was talking to me,” Erin replied, “And a man came up behind us. He tried to stab me, but Galen stopped him. They got into a fight. Galen got wounded. He managed to walk a bit with my help, then he collapsed and I had to practically carry him.”
Theron nodded.
“He’s a hero, if ever there was one,” he said with a sigh, “Too much, sometimes.”
“Where are we going?” Erin asked. She was already panting.
“There’s a healer I know who lives another mile from here. She can help him.”
“She lives in the middle of the woods?”
“Yes.”
They continued to run in silence.
***
The horse, Theron had informed her that his name was Carlam, stood silently while Theron carefully lifted Galen out of the saddle. The boy moaned quietly. His blond hair was matted with blood. Erin ran up to the small, ivy-covered house in front of them and knocked on the door. As the door opened, Theron came up behind Erin, cradling Galen in his arms.
“What do you--” a woman stood in the doorway. Reddish brown hair hung just past her shoulders. She was wearing a white shirt over a golden skirt. Her big aqua eyes widened as she saw the trio of visitors.
“Get him inside,” she said before either Theron or Erin could speak. Theron nodded silently and stepped through the doorway. He set Galen down gently on a carpet on the floor. The reddish-haired woman bustled into another room, gesturing for Erin to follow her. The woman took several clay pots and glass jars off of a shelf, as well as a roll of bandages. She handed them to Erin, who took them back to where Galen lay on the floor. The woman came in a moment later with a bucket of warm water and a cloth.
She knelt down beside Galen and, using a knife that she had had strapped to her belt, cut away the fabric over his wounds. Erin felt sick. Blood was soaking into the carpet, as well as the pale sleeves of the healer’s shirt.
“An arrow through his shoulder and a sword cut in his side?” the woman did not look up as she opened several pots and jars.
“Yes,” she croaked.
“Foul play?” Erin nodded. The healer frowned and put a glob of yellow goo into the two wounds, followed by a few leaves and a tightly wrapped bandage. Galen moaned quietly.
“How bad is it, Rhiian?” Theron, who had been standing silently in a dark corner, suddenly spoke. The healer rose to her feet and rinsed off her hands in the bowl of water. She turned to face the brown-haired man, whose face was currently a mask of calm.
“Bad, but not fatal,” the healer smiled faintly and swung around to look at Erin.
“I have not seen you before. What is your name, if you don’t mind me asking?” the woman asked.
“Erin.”
“I would rather I met you, Erin, in better circumstances. My name is Rhiianenn. Call me Rhiian,” Rhiian extended her hand and Erin shook it. Then Rhiian disappeared into another room. Theron did not speak. He and Erin stood in silence and stared at Galen. He was breathing raggedly.
Erin could see him in her mind’s eye. They had been talking when he leaned in close to her and whispered, “Laugh like I said something funny.” She had. And then he had swung around and smashed into the tall man standing, unseen, behind them. They had fought with swords, clanging and clashing like cooking pans.
Then, an arrow had appeared in Galen’s shoulder, before disappearing and thudding into the wall. Galen gasped and fell forward, dropping his guard. The sword slid into his side. He fell against the wall, blood soaking his tunic. A cut high on his forehead, under his shaggy hair, began to trickle more blood into his face. The man laughed hoarsely and left.
Galen had told her where Theron and Carlam waited. They had stumbled there. They were safe now, with Theron and Rhiian. Safe now, safe now. Erin repeated the words like a magic spell.
Safe now, safe now, safe now . . . .