The Empty Ones (Fantasy Romance)

11. Young love

I promised Fera we were going to help her keep that boy alive till he would be able to move again and get away.

It was not like we had much of a choice in that brief moment but it also felt wrong to sentence them to death.

As one might imagine, the technicalities of the operation weren't thought through at all.

"His leg bones are not broken. That means he will be able to walk as soon as he gains some strength. Except for the ones on his right abdomen side and his right arm, the other wounds are superficial. I think..." I said, after staring at him for a while.

So far I only read books with maybe some illustrations, but I never saw the insides of a person in real life. I wasn't sure if those were his guts or only muscle tissue, or if the cut reached his kidneys, and many other questions. As far as I remembered, you only can take care that the wound doesn't get infected, tie it up, and hope for the best, unless you have healing powers, which none of us had.

"How do you know that?" asked Salma. She was crying continuously even if Fera wasn't holding the knife at her throat anymore.

"I read that in books. My father had a few and I wanted to be a healer like my mother, I guess, to compensate for my lack of powers. But I didn't read all of them..."

I had been only eleven and sometimes the book became too boring and I chose to do something else. At that point, I felt stupid and guilty for having done that.

"You are only children..." The boy's voice was weak.

"You are a child yourself," I huffed.

"I... sixteen. I am a man grown."

Even if he was speaking Mane, the language of Quomared, his accent was strong, much stronger than Fera's. It's sounded somehow beautiful in its one odd way, with the sharp vovels and how the R's were rolling off his tongue.

He didn't look like a man grown. Even if he seemed tall and somewhat muscular, he had the face of a boy.

"Are you princesses, like she said?" he asked. His voice was becoming increasingly weaker, which was really concerning.

"No. She was just mocking us."

"Not even her? She looks beautiful, like a princess," he said, looking at Salma.

He was right and all. Everyone knew Salma was beautiful but he was bleeding all over so I found the ogling mildly annoying. Then again, when you think you are about to die it's worth focusing on the beautiful things around you.

"Jorn, just shut up."

I looked surprised at Fera. Seemingly I wasn't the only one irritated.

"We need a plan. He obviously cannot stay here," I said.

"There is no better place. The soldiers are patrolling the whole garden. I was thinking in a day or two he can walk and then..." Her voice sounded desperate. She was well aware of how bad her, now our, situation was. Hers was actually worse.
If The White Grace were to catch us, she might spare me and Salma, but Fera was common born and northern. That would make her almost equal to a rebel.

Three days. It had to suffice. If we were smart, we could take care that nobody found him here for three days. The sisters never came to the pantry and the other girls, if they happened to discover him, could be 'persuaded' as we were.

"Fera, how much do you know about healing?" I whispered to her.

"Not enough. I know about herbs and potions but mother died when I was ten so I obviously didn't learn all there was."