Once upon a deception

The Cause 2

The screams of victory quickly died down. Women ran in to get any item they saw fit as first aid and the faster ones rushed to the village square to alert the healer. Clarisse’s stomach tightened as Lord Vincent approached them. She could barely breathe as the warrior she knew slumped to the ground when he was close enough. Nothing like this had happened in a long time. The freedom fighters were always successful in their raids. Something had changed.

“Are you just going to stand there!” Someone boomed out, shoving a vial of medicine in her open palms.

 The village had lined up, helping those who had lesser threatening injuries and the ones whose lives were in greater danger were transported to the healer. No one had gotten to Lord Vincent at the time. Most of them were all too bothered about their brothers and lovers while the lesser few were much too petrified to even move. How could they be blamed? Slowly, Clarisse approached the bravest man she had known, gently clutching to the vial she was damn sure was useless for the lord. Lord Vincent grimaced as the girl hurried to his rescue.

“What happened?” Clarisse asked as she stared at his side.

“They knew we were coming.” The lord spared, immediately forcing the arrow out of his side in a painful attempt to punish himself. Then he rose unsteadily to his feet, against sane orders, and on impulse began to limp to the healer’s hut. 

 Clarisse let out a defeated sigh and got up to reach the lord, Placing his hand over her shoulder and supporting him.

“I did not ask for your help!” Lord Vincent grumbled, trying to shove her off him but his body was too weak to even perform the task and he ended up with a sore sting by his side.

Clarisse was not pissed at his bratty behavior. He had become unbearable the last few days and it was quite understandable. Lord Vincent saw himself as a protector. He had abandoned a good life as a knight and given his life to the cause and the last few days, He had had to watch friends, brothers and innocent people die for the cause. It was enough to dampen any warrior’s spirit.

“You did not need to ask. I am not blind.” Clarisse said. “It is not your fault.”

“False! It is my fault. The soldiers warned me before the raid. I knew it would be difficult after all the good soldiers we lost but I just wanted to please my ego. See how well that turned out.”

Clarisse went quiet, and blank. Sadly he was right. The two paused their awkward conversation all through their walk to the Healer’s hut. When they were close enough, The healer’s apprentices helped wheel the Lord in. Inside, Lord Vincent was stripped of his armor and the old healer began mixing up some concoction as she examined his wound. Strangely, His bleeding side wasn’t pink or bright crimson. The cut had turned purple and something yellowish began to sip out.

“Why is it like that?” Clarisse queried the healer.

The healer took one look at her and without answering, continued to search for a herb she was missing. However, An apprentice was quick to entertain her question.

“The lord’s wound is poisoned. I suspect Delphinium.”

“Is he going to be alright?”

“If you let me do my work!” The healer spat, burning with conflicting emotions. Clarisse kept her mouth shut and let her do her work uninterrupted. A few moments later, She had readied a black paste and sought to apply it to the wound. Her apprentice firmly held the Lord down as the black paste was poured upon the wound. A guttural cry escaped Lord Vincent as he struggled to fight the apprentices off him. Clarisse imagined the pain must be unbearable. In between his writhing and cries of agony, The healer made it know to him that the paste had to be entirely applied or it could be fatal. Clarisse watched his calloused hands claw over the shoulders of the apprentice as he continued to fight. Then it finally stopped. Lord Vincent sucked in a sharp breath before turning limp. It felt as if he had drifted asleep.

Hesitantly, She proceeded to ask. “Is he alright?”

“Yes.” The Healer replied with a smile. “In an hour or two, The poison would lose its potency and I should be able to seal up the wound.”

 The healer finished sealing up Lord Vincent’s wounds and walked out of the hut to assist others. Clarisse remained in the room, watching over her mentor like a golden angel. She subtly examined the many jagged scars that snaked around different parts of his body. All with a story to tell. A long one down the left side of his neck particularly caught Clarisse’s attention. Mostly because he got that one while rescuing her as a child. She dropped to her knees, slowly tracing down the scars and at the same time reliving those awful memories. The haunting memories began pouring in, so wild that she felt she was on another plane. 

“Girl!” A sharp voice managed to break through.

Shaken back to the present, Clarisse turned back to see a man. 

“Yes?”

“I have a letter for Lord Vincent.” The man replied, slowly handing it over to Clarisse. “Could you give it to him when he wakes?”

Clarisse accepted the folded piece of paper. It had a seal. One with the emblem of a fox with nine tails. She suspected it was from the superiors and if truly it was, It would have something to do with the failed raids. 

“I will,” Clarisse promised.

The man smiled then hurried from the room, closing the door behind him. Against what she was requested to do, Clarisse tore through the seal and took a peek at what the letter had to say.

 “I am afraid it is time. The court is no longer lackadaisical. The raids will continue to fail. We can no longer go for the spoils. We have to hit big. You know what to do.”

The message was vague but Clarisse could sense something ominous about it. But what?