Princess of the Sands

Sore Loser

    The final lashing came "25..." I had successfully endured his torture, never making a sound to show the pain I was feeling. I had won in this game, and now Myra would be safe. 25 lashings later, standing, and panting like their was not enough air in the room.

    "I won, now Myra will be saved from any further trials and welcomed into your harem with open arms." I got out between my gasps for air. I could feel clearly that there was blood trickling down my back, the dress I wore would be ruined.

    "I truly believed that you would fail, but not only did you win this little game you did not make one sound aside from your counting. I had no satisfaction in beating a woman who will not even allow me to revel in the sweet sounds of their pained screams." He was clearly agitated, annoyed by this ending.

    Perhaps he is as cruel as rumors had made him out to be, or was this a defense to make the people fear him as he ascends the throne? I could care less as long as I can one day return to my simple life as a poor merchant's daughter.

    "Follow me" he ordered. I attempted to pull the dress up to cover some of the exposed torn flesh of my back. I wanted to cry, to fall to the ground and cry my eyes out from the agonizing pain. However, if I did,  I would be giving this devil of a man exactly what he wants. So, biting down on my already bleeding lip I pulled myself together and followed him out of the room.

    We seemed to walk for forever, but I think it had more to do with the pain I was feeling and becoming lightheaded from the loss of blood. Finally we arrived at a large door where the prince knocked to alert whoever was there to open up.

    An elderly man appeared from behind the c***k in the door. "You have someone to treat" the Prince's words were colder than ice, as if he hated to say the words. The man opened the door more to see me, still a panting mess with blood dripping from my broken lip. Without another word the elderly man yanked me in by the arm and slammed the door in the face of his highness.

    "Turn young lady" the elderly man demanded. I did as asked and dropped the back of my dress lower. "Go to the table and remove that rag of clothing. I will gather water to clean these" He was quick for an old man, and was very attentive to his surroundings.

    "You must be the one that boy is so fascinated with. Tell me have you made any noise of pain in his presence?"  I shook my head slowly and continued to bite down hard on my lip. "I can tell you that he is long gone and you may release your lip now. I am very impressed that a small girl like you could be capable of handling such a beating."

    He began to cut down the back of my dress, as I could barely move my arms. The loud gasp made his hand push against the back of my head holding me down so I would be unable to arch  my back. Something I was quite grateful for, as I didn't know how much longer I could stand. After removing my clothing he helped me to sit on the small stool he had placed next to the table.

    I screamed out at the first contact of a rag touching my roughed up skin. The man said I was not to hold it in any longer for fear that I would pass out. He cleaned my wounds and began to patch up my wounded flesh. I heard him gather more materials from a shelf behind us as he explained to me what he had to do.

    "I can tell that you have been beat before this. I assume this means you are aware of what I will need to do to patch you up?" He questioned, I think in hopes to distract me from the agonizing process that he was about to put me through.

    "I do" I stated simply between gritted teeth. He walked back over with the supplies and dumped a large bottle of  alcohol  onto my back. The scream that came from my mouth would have sounded like a hurt wild animal if I had not known it came from my own lips.

    "It would be best if you try to relax as much as possible or this could become worse." he tried to explain to me as calmly as possible. "If this is supposed to be helpful than I suggest that you hurry up and begin to stitch me as I do not have the calm left in me to hold my tongue in this situation." I snarled  at him.

    He gave me a small amused chuckle as I felt the first piercing pain of the needle sliding through my skin. "You truly are beyond fascinating. I can see why he finds you so attractive, aside from your physical features." I know he  was trying to keep a conversation to distract me from the thread work he was weaving through my torn skin.

    "All I did was take on someone else's punishments. Since the selection this morning all I have done is try to protect others." I tried to say out to him but from my ears it sounded like faint whispers. He could clearly hear me as he replied to inquire "Who were you saving this morning?"

    I was trying so hard to focus but being someones pin cushion is not exactly helping in means of conversation. "My father, now honestly if you do not hurry up so you can apply the herb salve and clay to relieve my pain and keep my wounds clean then I will begin to do it myself!"

    He stopped stitching for the briefest of seconds before continuing and asking "how many times have you been injured to this degree? And no need for you to take over, I am just tying up the lose ends." I could hear the snip of scissors from behind me and gave a small sigh of relief.

    I indulged this old man to keep my sanity and stay awake "I could count the dates on a tree better than I can the beatings I have endured... Now please bring me the herbs and I can assist you in preparing the salve and you can prep the clay"

    "You have medical knowledge? Did you learn from the towns healers or are you self taught?" he seemed even more intrigued now, but did bring me the herbs. "You forgot yarrow root if you want something potent and will help with clotting the blood."

    He looked at me and stormed over to the table where I was working. He seemed to be searching frantically through the herbs and then ran over to the shelves to grab an old leather bound book. He flipped through the pages until it seemed like he found what he was looking for.

    He strode back over to me, nose still in his book, then showed me the pages he had been looking over. "You are definitely self taught, only royal healers or self taught healers have ever dared to try and use yarrow root in the unconventional ways you just stated. But yet you are correct in your statement, and I will allow you to use some but you will show me how you mix these herbs together."

    I gave a nod and slowly proceeded to add herbs to the grindstone. Yarrow root, turmeric, rose hip, goldenrod seed, and a pinch of calendula. I slowly ground the herbs into a paste then added them to sweet tree sap, creating my homemade salve. I handed it to the old man and turned my back to him.

    "I see..." he seemed puzzled but proceeded to apply the salve to my back as he questioned "what clay do you use on top  of such salve? This truly is the work of a master." I was already beginning to feel some relief with the feeling of the salve being rubbed into my back. "I would top this with a mixture of red and white clay. 2 parts white and 1 part red."

    He hummed in response, finished applying the salve and the made quick work of putting the clay together. Slapping on a thin layer of clay to keep the wounds clean and the salve protected, he draped a blanket over my shoulders.

    "How would you like to become my apprentice? Ms....." he left the question open. "Saphira, and I would love to" I told him with a small smile  gracing my lips.