CHAPTER FOUR
1350 Words
General Lestor of Kasturia swept back the flap to his pavilion with one hand, eyes seeking his new servant, Lucia.
Talos had fetched him from the end of a meeting with shame written on his face, saying in a small voice that she's hurt.
He heard a small gasp, and turned to see the girl trying desperately to sink into a kneeling position, her face white with pain.
Despite being a veteran soldier, Lestor still flinched at the very sight and took two great steps to grab the girl’s arm to prevent her from completing the movement.
“Do not be foolish.” The rumble of his voice froze Lucia immediately, and the girl trembled under his hand.
Lestor released her, finding himself disturbed by the terrible thinness of the arm beneath his fingers. There was nothing there but skin and bone…
Angry with himself for not seeing that his little servant was still not eating enough after a month, he growled under his breath, making the girl shake harder.
“Let me see the leg.” His voice was harsh as he dropped to one knee to examine the damage.
Painfully, the girl brought the leg out and Lestor knew immediately it was broken.
Looking up into Lucia's eyes, he saw tears there, and the same thought.
“I can just bandage it, my lord. It will be fine. I can still work…”
Lestor stared at her in shocked. Is she's being serious right now?!
Lucia clenched her eyes shut for a moment, tears running down her cheeks, before looking pleadingly at Lestor again. “I can work, my lord. Please... Please do not kill me…” The last words were whispered with desperation, then she looked down as though expecting a blow for her unexpected outburst.
Lestor froze. The girl truly believed she would be killed for a broken leg. Unbelievable.
The commander rose back up to his full height, looking down at the girl with a grim countenance. But really, what Lestor was expecting? He had been nothing but cruel since he had first laid eyes on Lucia. The girl had no other recourse but to believe such things. After all, Lestor himself was about to kill her at first simply for being her?
He turned away, sickened with himself. Had he truly become so like that vile Val…?
“We are not such barbarians. The healer will see to it.” His tone was gruff with his inner thoughts, and Lucia only shook harder.
Lestor gritted his teeth. “Sit properly, for godsake woman! The healer cannot work on the leg when you're about to collapse.” He took hold of the thin arm again and made her sit upon a large padded bench near the table.
Lucia kept her eyes lowered, but she paled alarmingly as the leg moved, and Lestor found himself almost hovering, should the girl would faint.
When the doctor entered the tent, Lucia cringed back, shaking with terror, and Lestor himself had to hold her.
Unbelievably, Lestor found himself making soothing noises, as he would to his young cousins, and wondered what it was about this strange creature being in pain that made him feel suddenly protective. He even growled at the doctor once or twice for being what he felt was too rough.
All it did was make both Lucia and the doctor tense.
When the bone was pulled into place, the young woman fainted, and Lestor immediately caught her.
When at last the broken limb had been set, splinted, and wrapped, Lestor lifted the girl easily and set her down on the thin pallet near the door. He stood for a long time, staring down at the worn, crumpled little form, before he turned and strode angrily out of the pavilion...
After awhile, Lucia woke to the smell of food. She sat up, grimacing as her right leg protested, though the terrible sharp, grinding pain had dulled to a bearable ache. She stared at the food so close to hand, within her reach on a low table, but did not move toward it. She licked her lips and looked away, wrapping thin arms around herself in meager comfort.
She was startled when the canvas door to the pavilion was swept back and her master entered.
Lucia bowed to the ground as best as she could, waiting for harsh words.
They did not come. Instead a large hand came beneath her chin and lifted her face so that she had to meet the General's eyes.
“The food is for you, little girl. Why have you not eaten?”
Lucia just blinked in astonishment.
General Lestor sighed. “You are no good to me without strength. Eat. When your leg has healed, then shall you return to your duties.” His look turned stern. “Until then, you are to keep weight off it.”
Lucia finally nodded, realizing that the other man expected a response. She was too confused to do anything more. Time to heal…why this concern now? Still, it made sense that she was useless at the moment, and she could only be grateful that she was of sufficient worth that they had not killed her. Yet.
Lestor let his hand fall away from Lucia's chin and moved across the pavilion to his desk, ignoring Lucia now that his will had been made clear.
For her part, Lucia slowly and tentatively reached for bread and cheese, knowing that her half-starving body would reject anything richer.
She watched her master with great wariness, chewing carefully and swallowing, waiting momentarily each time to see if she would be ordered to stop. Such cruelty had always been the norm for her. Often others had offered food to her, then snatched it back at the last moment, or put something in it that would make her ill. She did not detect such pettiness in this general; he seemed beyond such things, but one could never knew. Still, she was desperate enough to eat what was before her, even if it was a cruel joke.
Lestor watched her out of the corner of his eye, his lips thinning grimly as he beheld the uncertainty and fear of his small servant. So little she ate before holding a hand to her stomach and stopping, obviously unable to continue.
“The water has painkiller in it. Drink it.” Lestor's voice sounded harsh even to himself, and Lucia jumped violently, face paling as pain vibrated through her leg.
The General cursed under his breath, gritting his teeth. He would have to watch his tone with this one. It took very little to make her obey, certainly less force then he had used so far.
Lucia took the water in trembling hands and lifted it to her lips, drinking greedily in her thirst. She finished and wiped her lips before shooting a look at Lestor.
“Master?” The small voice was soft and low, and Lestor looked up in surprise. That the girl would find the nerve to address him was impressive. Perhaps she had more backbone than she had shown so far.
He looked at the white girl impassively, meeting her strange blue eyes.
Lucia flushed, looking down. “I need to relieve myself, master. Is it all right if I go out…?”
Lestor considered offering to help, then discarded the idea. It would do no good to his own reputation and certainly not to the girl’s own pride if he coddled her. She was a slave after all, no more than that.
He nodded and turned back to his work, refusing to watch the small struggle as Lucia got to her feet and limped slowly from the pavilion.
He would have to watch himself. It would be all too easy to like that girl, strange or not, enemy or not.
That would not do at all..
That was a dangerous thought.. Something, someone of his station could not have with a mere slave....
A weakness, a man like General Lestor, brother to the Queen of Kasturia could not have..
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- Writer
