Myshka

Chapter 15: Attack

Myshka was out of it for hours which worried Emtilov to no end. He had left his main healer at the camp to look after the injured from both his camp and the villages. Now he cursed himself for it. The young apprentice was good enough for assistance but fell short of being good at actual diagnosis. The more he fumbled with his huge collection of medicines, nervous about treating the new Princess, the more Emtilov reigned in his anger. If he killed this one then he'd have no healer at all, he told himself.

Myshka stirred in her sleep and asked something incoherently. The healer didn't understand and leaned in closer. That was the last straw. Emtilov flew towards him in a rage, caught him by his collar and picked him straight off the ground. The apprentice protested and looked absolutely terrified. Myshka looked alarmed at the sight. Emtilov sighed deeply. This boy was lucky he was more worried about his wife at the moment. He dropped the guy. The guy scampered away. Maybe he should call Myrrha,like Rahara had offered, even though he wasn't sure of her abilities. The girl looked like she'd faint at the sight of blood and this was her own sister she had to treat.

"What are you doing? " Myshka groaned from her make shift bed. A tent had been put together hastily for their convenience but she wasn't sure of the Prince' intention in such close quarters.

"Are you feeling better now? Would you like some water? Do you want a masage? I could prepare a bath maybe." Emtilov asked in practically one breath.

Myshka narrowed her eyes and looked at him. Why was he acting so concerned now? It wasn't like he was actually bothered was he? She was just fine. Just the heat had gone to her head a little. She tried to sit up. The Prince instantly kneeled down by her side and caught her.

"Stop it! You are not well. I have sent for a messenger to summon my healer. Till then you will not get up." He admonished her gently.

Myshka was astonished. Nobody had ever shown this amount of love and care toward her except her sister. Her sister though was gentle by nature, she loved and cared for everyone. She had however never expected the Prince to be like this. However, his concern was misplaced. She felt absolutely fine and would never listen to a word he said. She tried to get up again. The Prince stopped her and glared at her.

"Are you listening to what I'm saying?" He asked.

Myshka was about to protest when suddenly she heard a noise from outside. Not just any noise, this was the deadly noise of swords clashing. Next they heard the screams of people, something Myshka recognised all too well. Screams of pain and death.

She got up and was suddenly on her back again. The Prince towered over her and forced her to look at him.

"What is wrong with you? There's some trouble outside!" She hissed at him.

The Prince clamped his hand over her mouth.

"Yes I know there's trouble. Which is why you must stay away! I will go look outside. Stay here and don't make any noise." He whispered back. Then within a blink he rose, withdrew his sword and left the tent.

Myshka looked at his back with vehemence. Like hell she would stay back! Who did he think he was? She was the Khasha Chief and had handled a whole warrior clan for years. She got up and searched for her sword. When she couldn't find it after a few minutes, she cursed him inwardly.

Angrily she went outside the tent to see a full blown fight ongoing. Her guards were engaged in a deadly battle with men masked in black. Bandits! Her heart plummeted to her stomach when she realised how outnumbered they were. In an effort to travel faster, they had taken less guards and soldiers. The Prince she saw was engaged in a battle with several men at once. Infact so many surrounded him, it was difficult to see him clearly.