The Healer and the General

Part 7

As the sun set, the twins came to collect Demi. This time, they led her to a large tent that smelled of blood, and death. She gulped knowing what was about to happen. She'd die here today, and while she was prepared for death, Demi sure as hell didn't want it. Still, she walked into the tent head high.

What greeted her was somewhat sickening. The tent only had one entrance, so the air was stuffy with death. There were bloodstains everywhere, but mostly on the slightly raised wood platform. Or, she thought it was wooden. The same two males from before greeted her, Doyle and Eric. They both looked very tense like they didn't like this place any more than she did.

Eric stepped forward, looking her up and down. Not in a condescending way, but as if to check for injuries. Strange. "Demetria, we seem to have no healer, now that ours is dead." He began. Demi knew where this was going, or she hoped it would go there. "Seeing as you've done nothing wrong to get the title of a slave, you'll become the healer here." Eric finished. But his wording bothered her. Eric said it like she wasn't going to have a choice, and if that was the case then she wasn't anything more than a slave again. When Demi didn't answer Eric went on to say, "You don't really have a choice."

Umph, there it is.

She looked Eric right in his beautiful eyes and said, "I always have a choice, it just depends on how hard you make it." His eyes stared straight into hers and Demi could see that he felt guilty for his wording.

"You'd have a guard in camp, and two if you ever needed to go out of camp." He continued. That was interesting. Demi was never allowed out of the Ura camp, even to collect herbs. Which had led to many incidents of her being brought the wrong ones.

It piqued her interest, and before she could stop herself she said, "Deal."

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"Deal."

That one word almost brought Eric to his knees. He still had a million questions, but they'd have to wait. He'd wait until she opened up to him, though it was hard to not pry. He didn't want to seem nosy. For now, Eric was just happy that she'd gone for it. If Demetria hadn't gone for it, Eric might've had to lock her up and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Well then, seeing as you are no longer a prisoner there is no need for the shackles," Eric said with a smile. He smiled further as surprise lit up on her face, Demetria hadn't thought that it was part of the deal. He gestured for her to follow him and led the way to the blacksmith. Doyle and the twins followed behind.

The blacksmith was the only permanent structure at the moment and was made of stone. There was a large furnace, and that was about it. Smed was hard at work inside and only glanced up after Eric knocked on the stone. He smiled brightly and came to greet the five of them. After introductions were made, Eric told him of our predicament.

"Don't you worry lass, this will be easier than watching the sunset," Smed said confidently. It was a strange phrase, but Smed said a lot of strange things. He led Demetria over to a wooden table full of tools that could be torture devices. After quickly moving them he had Demetria hop on the table and show him the shackles.

The first thing Smed did was cut the chain connecting the two shackles. Then he heated a rod slightly and got a hammer. Eric's mate recoiled at the sight but tried her best to keep still, as Smed made quick work of the metal bracelets. When he got the second one off, everybody quieted. The area on Demetria's ankles was so pale, Eric was certain it hadn't seen the sun in years. There were also painful looking blisters, that would scar. Plus the scarred skin that was already there.

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Demi didn't even mind the scars all along her ankles as she stood up and stretched her legs. It had been eight years since she did this. Before she knew it her legs were carrying her out of the tent. Demi ran, stumbling a few times and when she got to the edge of camp she saw a sea of gold. Running toward it, Demi smiled. She spun and spun, and in the setting sun, and she swore she glowed as brightly as the golden grass around her.

Déjà vu much?

She knew Eric and the others were watching her but didn't care. As long as they weren't stopping her from enjoying her kind-of-freedom. She dreamt of this moment, literally, but never thought it would come true.

When her legs finally gave out from exertion, Demi just laid there, staring up at the darkening sky, the grass swaying with the wind. She could hear the sound of a river nearby and wished she had the strength to go to it. She also wished she was strong enough to go to the forest. Demi could see it from where she lay, just a few feet away. It was the closest she had gotten to the beautiful woods in four years. The year after her mother's death hadn't gone well for Demi, and she tried to make a run for it a couple of times.

"Demetria, it's getting dark, you need to come back to camp." Demi struggled to get up and found Eric coming towards her.

"Demi," She said. "Call me Demi." If she was going to be stuck here, she might as well use her preferred name.

Eric looked surprised, but shook Demi's hand and said, "It's nice to meet you, Demi." She laughed at his serious tone.

"I'm sorry," When Eric raised his eyebrows, she quickly explained, "For running, it's just been so long and-"

"How long?" Eric interrupted. She didn't understand his question, "How long has the chain been on?" Demi made a giant O with her mouth. "Eight years." She finally answered. Eric's eyes filled with rage for a moment but quickly went away.

He just nodded and said, "I'll show you where you'll be staying. Tomorrow you can see the healer's de- I mean tent. The healer's tent." Demi could've sworn he was about to call the tent a den. Deciding to question it further tomorrow she followed Eric to her tent.