Hellfury

Chapter 15: Cahir

Cahir swiped the dagger away from his face before it hit him again. She was erratic, scared and confused. The poison worked its way through her bloodstream and messed up her head. He knew this would happen. He just assumed it would be less dangerous for him. She'd been fine for three days. She'd sat up, spoken to him, hurled her guts up and gone back to sleep.

She had never hallucinated before. Cahir had left her cuts, trying to heal the wound left by the arrow first. He had thought that once he got the splinters out she'd be fine, he'd been too late. The black splintered metal had been in there for hours, and the poison had spread. By the smell of it it was something flowery. He didn't know many poisons. He knew of nightshade and basilisk venom, but she wasn't paralyzed so he had ruled those out.

Cahir waited for her to pass out again before he moved from the back of the cave. He needed to keep her still long enough to clean her wounds. He still needed her to save his own neck, she was free to hate him as much as she wanted, but if he saved her life, she'd have to ease up eventually.
He moved her onto her back and placed her arms by her sides. He hadn't dared ask her to take the shirt off, she had been right days ago, he did value his neck.

He moved a hand over her wounded front, assessing. Five deep cuts marred her pale skin, several of the cuts crossed the deepest one and green pus had already formed underneath the forming scabs. He should have stitched them first. Now he had to pick the scabs away, rinse the cuts and stitch them up all without her waking and stabbing him in the throat.

The black residue left from the dimeritium-tipped arrow ran down her chest along with the sweat. He wasn't too worried about that anymore. He assumed the poison caused delirium and nothing else. If she'd been alone, it would have killed her, she would have wandered off a cliff or broken a leg and been eaten. Auri only moved when he dabbed at her chest with a rag dunked in alcohol. The pure kind this time.
He'd told the lady at the inn about the probability of his wife getting hurt and she'd gladly parted with several bottles of clean Mahakam spirit.

'Get your hands off me,' she tried and clawed at his hand.
'No,' he said and pushed her back down onto the bedroll. She could claw at him as much as she wanted, he'd been worse off before. If she really wanted to, she could probably stab him again and he would still help her.
'Nilfgaardian traitor,' she mumbled and opened her eyes. She shook with hatred and confusion. Her eyes kept darting from her hand to his. She watched him closely as he slowly picked at the scabbed wounds with the corner of the rag.

'If you're going to keep insulting me, do it properly.'
'What?'
'I am a Vicovarian traitor, not Nilfgaardian.' He said and reached for the bottle again.
'Are you-' she began but hissed through her teeth when he poured a small stream of spirit into her festering wounds.
'No, I am not lying to you.' He began and dabbed at her skin. 'I will tell you who I am if you stop trying to fuck this up. I have to stitch you back together, and you will let me or so help me-'
'Fine!' she snapped and closed her eyes.

Cahir grabbed the needle as he spoke. Anything to keep her occupied. He didn't know if she'd be able to feel all of it, with the poison messing up her mind, but the sound of his voice and his touch had calmed her before.
'I was born a Vicovarian count. My father fell after we revolted against the Usurper. My brothers followed soon after, I had nothing left to do but to fight. That's when Nilfgaard came. Emhyr decapitated the fucker with a dented and dull Mahakam blade and saved my life. I had been left to starve and die on my own after my family was killed.'

Cahir threaded the needle and bent over her chest, moving away from the light. He had to go slow, rinse first and stitch after. She would bleed so he thought it best to close the wounds one by one. She protested a little when the needle sank into her skin but quieted when he continued to speak.
'He told me the Usurper was a fool to let me go. He brought me back with him to Nilfgaard and taught me to fight and to defend myself.'