About twenty minutes in Torn came in to check on them and find out what was taking so long. "What, in the name of the stars, are you doing to him?" he asked in shock as she stitched up the surface of the first gouge over the original stitches.
She stopped to explain; to which he responded "Why not just magic him back together, like you did yourself? You are a healer, aren't you?"
"Yes, I'm a healer. And if I knew of any better way to fix his arm I would; but I don't. This is your friend's best chance of keeping his arm and not bleeding to death." What was it with these people and magic? Just because she healed unusually fast didn't mean she could make other people heal like her. "Healing is a science, there is no magic". If she really was part witch and knew how to do magic, she'd use it now… even if it meant possibly burning at the stake like her grandmother.
Torn backed off and she began to stitch again, but when she pulled it tight and Torn saw the skin lifted up by the thread, he immediately threw up in the trash bin and excused himself to go sharpen knives. She gave a small smile used to the fact that a lot of people, especially men ironically enough, couldn't take the gore her job entailed.
Another ten minutes and she tied off the last stitch, rinsed it with spirit one more time, and applied some of the same green paste she'd used on Shadow before bandaging it up. Next, she struggled to untie and slide off Takal's green uniform top, chainmail, and undershirt to inspect for other injuries. Usually, it wasn't that difficult to do even on an unconscious patient, but Takal weighed a ton and she didn't have her sister's help.
She could have asked for Torn's help but if he was just going to get sick watching her work he wouldn't be of much use. She noticed significant brushing on the side of his ribs right off. Thankfully it didn't feel like it was floating so it likely didn't brake all the way through. There was little that could be done about broken ribs. She could apply some green paste that would at least help numb the surface and then bind it to give support and restricted movement. But she'd need more bandages so she put Torn to work turning one of the bedsheets into long strips in the other room.
She began to wash off the battle grime from the rest of her unconscious patient, cleaning out the small scrapes as she found them. It would suck to have been so careful sanitizing his big wound just for him to get an infection and fever from a simple cut. As she worked she was surprised to find that he had no scars. His chest and arms were smooth, with the exception of some chest hair, and free of any raised or discolored skin. How could a person who dedicated their life to fighting, not have a single mark to show for it?
She looked at the man, considerably less intimidating in his current state of unconsciousness. He almost looked relaxed; almost. The only marks on him were the ones he'd received tonight. She remembered being in aw that he had fought those demons a few days ago without a single scratch to show for it. She thought for a second that maybe it was because he was just that good; but no one could go their whole life without getting a scar when they played with swords, knives, and demons for a living. No one. What secrets did he hold… magic?
It simply wasn't possible… so how did he do it? She ran a hand down the smooth but firm contours of his chest and abs. Even unconscious, muscles relaxed his chest was hard under the smooth warm skin. None of her patients had ever been this toned, and she worked with sailors and hired swords most of the time. None of the men she'd touched had ever felt this good under her fingers. Her hand froze at that realization and she quickly pulled back her hand and pushed that thought far, far away.
Instead, she directed her attention to the dark dribbles of blood blending in with the dark hair on the side of his head. She washed it off with water first trying not to notice the softness of his hair or the prickles of his stubble sending strange chills up her arm. She poured the alcohol over the cleaned-out scrapes to kill any infection. A small trickle of fresh blood and spirit ran past his ear.
Takal woke with a start. His hand shot up and grabbed her wrist before his eyes snapped open. Startled Nieka pulled back as far as she was able to go with her wrist in his tight grip. Recognition, confusion then irritation flashed across his face. He let her go but Irritation lingered as he stared her down making her uncomfortable.
The look might have been more intimidating if he wasn't in a tub with half his hair all wet and sticking up at odd angles. It looked ridiculous, yet somehow good and a bit distracting, as was his now tense chest, her eyes snapped back up to his dark-eyed stare, still locked on her. She felt like squirming to break free of the invisible grip he had on her, but that would just serve to make her look weird.
Nervous she did what she always did. She started talking… and asking questions. "Are you feeling okay? You passed out when I showed you the demon claw I took out from your biracial bone. I finished cleaning and stitching you back up but you'll have to change the bandage at least twice daily and reapply this paste each time" she babbled showing him the jar of greenish paste. He gave his arm a quick look and returned to staring her down. "It helps numb the pain… at least on the surface… and fights infection." He continued to stare while slowly getting up with the help of his good arm.
"I only removed your shirt to check for other injuries and it's a good thing I did because you have a broken rib that needs binding. I was just waiting for you to be able to sit up on your own, so I was just trying to clean the scratches on your face when you woke up" she prattled twisting her hands together uncomfortably, why is he still looking at me like that she whined to herself.
"How are you feeling?" she couldn't help but ask again uncomfortable with his continued silence.
He gave a small laugh causing him to grip his side. He sat down on the edge of the tub holding his bad arm to his chest with the other, inviting her to get back to work with a nod. "Like I just fought a dozen demons." He said grouchily.
"Bet you're wishing you waited to get healed by Master Robin tomorrow huh," Torn said walking in with a bowl of soup and the strips of cloth.
"What do you mean?" Nieka asked as she started wrapping Takal's rib.
"Well, Takal is leaving first thing tomorrow to report to the council and request reinforcements," Torn said.
"Oh. Why so soon? You shouldn't travel like this." She said a bit taken off guard. For some reason, she had assumed he'd stay a while. She knew his original plan was to just drop her off and leave and that he was already staying longer than planned… But who in their right mind would travel in his condition. Was he suicidal or just plain stupid?
"Well someone needs to report to the Masters and request backup." He explained as if it was just some simple matter. "Torn will be of more use to your town as he's not injured and my chances of healing are better if I get back to the castle… no offense."
Offense taken! But she wasn't about to show it. It was his life, after all, he could do what he wanted with it, but his horse shouldn't have to die with him.
"Well, you better be taking Torn's horse because Shadow can't even fully support her own weight right now, let alone a rider. She needs time to heal before she goes anywhere." Nieka said almost scoldingly. Giving the knot on his rap a slightly harder than necessary tug.