Outcasts of Aquila (Aquila's Originals 2)

Chapter 14: Dark Night, Part 2

VHEN WASN'T CERTAIN how he managed it. Perhaps it was the trusting way Orla followed his orders, perhaps it was two centuries of leadership bred into his family during their indomitable climb up Sutheralli's ranks of power, or perhaps it was some twist of blind panic that drew strength from the pounding in his ears rather than sending him flailing around screaming, but somehow he held his nerve. Which was no mean feat, especially when their fellow students came streaming down the corridor to point, scream and hurl abuse.

Fortunately, the commotion also attracted a handful of Riders from their night patrol, who fetched more Riders, who brought down officers, all of whom formed a protective barrier on the stairs, keeping Vhen, Orla and the wounded safe from the rest of the students.

"What in Maegla's name is going on here?" Dean Myran asked when he limped along the lower halls, Caelo trotting by his side. The man in charge of Aquila looked strained in the green glow of the globe, but his spine was straight and his expression resolute as he glared past his Riders at the avid mob of students. "Silence!"

The angry rumble ceased at the dean's command.

Vhen caught Orla's eye, the pair of them sighing with relief. Vhen had been trying to block out the noise while he kept his hands pressed against the cut on Student Nedek's head, attempting to staunch the bleeding, but it had been hard. He recognised too many of the voices, knew too many of the faces, all of which were now twisted with hate and fear. Orla shivered beside him, her pale face streaked with blood as she too tried to use her hands to hold Zestyn's head steady and allow him to breathe.

It had taken a while to recognise the two boys as neither were members of Vhen's flurry, although they were second years. The fall down the flight of stone steps had not treated either kindly, leaving their faces battered and their limbs a tangled mess. Vhen had no idea how deep Nedek's wound was since heads always bled so much, but it was all too obvious what Zestyn had done to his back.

"Is it broken?" the dean asked Orla, kneeling beside them with a grunt. His calloused hands traced the line of Zestyn's body but didn't quite touch.

Orla nodded. "I think so. It... doesn't feel right, sir, and if I move my hands he can't breathe."

"Best not move your hands then." The dean's smile was tight as he rested a hand on her shoulder with a supportive squeeze. "You're doing very well, student. The healers will be here soon."

Orla exhaled a shaky breath and nodded.

Myran turned to Vhen and his charge. "That looks messy."

"Yes, sir. I daren't lift my hands."

"No, I can see that. I wish Morri was here. Where are the healers anyway?" The last was said as the dean sat back on his heels, frowning around the crowded hall.

"Here! We're here. Make way, coming through! Move aside, that's it."

Finally. The dean had time to squeeze Vhen's shoulder too before he was rudely thrust aside. Unable to help himself, Vhen sagged in relief as a group of white clad people swept around them, chattering and grumbling.

"Don't do that!" a sharp voice snapped. "Maintain the pressure. Your job isn't over yet, student. Hand me bandages, someone. Korel, stop gawping and go chivvy those stretchers along."

Locking his elbows, not allowing himself to fall apart just yet, Vhen kept pressing Nedek's head as the healers flocked around Orla and Zestyn. There was a lot of discussion about braces and backboards before even more healers arrived. Eventually Zestyn was borne away by a twittering crowd and Vhen was surrounded once more.

"Now then, student, nice and slowly, if you please. Lift your hand. Good. Slowly, slowly, very good. Now move!" It was only as he was roughly dragged back, allowing healers to take his place and set to work stemming the bleeding and assessing the wound, that Vhen recognised Lieutenant Cayn. In the absence of the head healer, the Rider had apparently taken his place, bossing the healers around in admirable style.

"Can you fix him?" the lieutenant asked a slender older man, whose face was pensive.

"We can fix him," the healer murmured. "Tight bandaging works wonders, though we daren't stitch it until it slows in case it puts pressure on his brain. I wish we could replace his blood so easily."

Vhen looked at his hands, black in the green light, feeling sick.

"Don't pull that face, lad," Cayn grumbled, pulling Vhen to his feet with a hand under his arm again. "Puking won't fill him up again, nor crying neither. It's thanks to you he has any blood left at all. Now shift." He nudged Vhen back against the wall with a gentleness at odds with his brisk tone and followed the healers as they carried Nedek away on a second stretcher.

Vhen's breath shuddered in his chest, but he stopped just short of rubbing his face with his bloody hands.

"Come with me, you two," Dean Myran ordered softly, and Vhen blinked, realising Orla was standing next to him. He met the dean's calm eyes and nodded, willing to go wherever the man led, just so long as it was away from here. "You as well, Caelo. Lieutenant Honra, would you mind?"

Vhen hadn't even noticed the lieutenant was there. He was grateful though, after his legs collapsed on his second step.

"Steady there, lad," the lieutenant murmured, bracing his shoulder under Vhen's and holding him up. "You've done wonders. Just a little more, eh, then you can collapse."

Collapsing sounded good. Much better than the jeers and accusations being thrown from the crowd corralled at the top of the stairs. Refusing to show any weakness before the mob, Vhen forced strength back into his legs and with Honra's help followed Dean Myran, Caelo and Orla down the corridor, away from the stairs, away from the stained stones, away from the noise, but the blood on his hands seemed to burn. Even after he sank gratefully into the bath caverns that bubbled up beneath the citadel, the blood stuck to his skin, refusing to be rubbed clean. He scrubbed his skin raw, until Honra dragged him out again and wrapped him in a warm towel.

"Get dressed," the lieutenant said kindly and left him to his privacy.

Alone, Vhen slumped on the bench, shut his eyes and allowed exhaustion to catch up with him. Not even the horrors of everything he'd witnessed and done could keep him awake any longer and he surrendered to sleep with a relieved sigh.