Chapter 7
Too say she was annoyed was an understatement. Inara darted around the small room where all the medical supplies were kept; collecting everything she needed to tend the new uninvited guest. As was her practice she pondered every aspect that had led to these unfortunate events.
The snowfall this year and last had been ample, and compacted ice had made it easy for animals from the mountains searching for food to enter the valley from the west gate. As the snows melted they continued to come thru the small gap and over the months a small opening had been made bigger by the shifting of dirt and rocks as snow melted and hooves traversed through.
She'd noticed it last fall, but after having followed the path for several miles decided that the odds a man may penetrate the valley through this entrance was so insignificant there was nothing to worry about. And the chance for fresh game to enter would benefit their food stores. Inara had been wrong, because a man had indeed entered the valley; the same man who was lying in a bed in her home at this very moment with 3 long gashes across his abdomen and a bulging knot on his head.
She squeezed her eyes shut in frustration before taking a deep breath and returning to her work. After completing a quick inventory of her tray, she lifted it carefully and left the room. On her way to the stairs she stepped out a side door and to a small garden just outside the building.
It was late April and many of the plants were burgeoning from the earth in every shade of color Inara could think of. The garden boundary had been marked by a low roughhewn wall made up of all the different stones available in the valley, hinting at the age of the dwelling. Inara reminded herself in passing that this was another thing on her list of things that needed update. The world outside had seen an exorbitant amount of science, innovation and invention, and she intended to bring some of that into their hidden corner of the world.
Just inside the garden someone was eagerly digging into the earth, tilling the soil with his bare hands.
"Vincent, I need your help with our guest this morning. I need you to move him so I can replace the linens and change the pan." She called out on approach.
Vincent stood slowly and stretched out, reaching high into the sky and emitting a low rumble from his chest. Inara knew he'd been so satisfied playing in the dirt he'd been purring and she smiled at the thought.
"You mean he hasn't recovered yet? He was only scratched by that bear." He responded teasingly when he turned to meet his friend, and instantly regretted it when he saw the look of determined annoyance on Inara's face, in spite of that mischievous grin that threatened.
"Well, maybe being practically eviscerated isn't the same as a scratch." She replied, allowing a small bit of guilt to invade her voice. Vincent understood why, she was blaming herself for this poor fellow's situation. After all it was she who had relieved him of his weapons; leaving him without a way to defend himself against that angry mother bear. "Now stop teasing and come help me, but go wash your hands first. It would defeat the purpose of cleaning if oregano and lilac started growing in his bed." She shot back.
"Now you know very well the oregano is in the west garden, so that it can get the best sun. There are only flowering perennials here, at your request so that you can smell them every morning." He'd begun walking toward her and together they exited the garden, heading back to the open door. "You head on up, I'll wash and be there in a moment." Vincent said as he headed down the far hallway. Inara called after him.
"A moment doesn't mean after you've spent 30 minutes saying hello to your wife!" and she headed up the staircase chuckling to herself and confident that she wouldn't see Vincent for at least half an hour.
She climbed to the 3rd floor landing and made her way to the guest room, treading carefully in case the stranger had regained consciousness.
Steadying the tray on her right hand, she opened the door and peered inside. Everything looked exactly as she had left it the night before, including the peculiar person lying on the large bed in the center of the room. She walked over and placed the tray on the small side table before turning to look at her patient.
Inara noted that he'd turned his head to the left and was now facing the window from which the early morning light was streaming. It was a good sign, showing that the fever hadn't been so severe. He would be awakening soon, which also meant he would be gone soon.
She allowed herself to breathe a small sigh of relief. Once this interloper was gone things could go back to life as normal. For several minutes she simply looked at him. The deformity of his face was clearly visible. She wondered how he'd been marked so horrifically. Was it an accident, a punishment perhaps, or had it been intentional.
Several strands of hair had fallen against his cheek and she absently pushed them behind his ear. The expression he wore was almost serene as he slept and she found herself rather distractedly touching the marred skin of his face, tracing its outline all the way along the side of his head right behind his ear where it ended. The way the texture turned from rough to smooth was unconsciously pleasing.
When she heard the heavy footfalls of someone coming down the hall she nearly jumped and berated herself for being at all sympathetic with the man. Certainly a man such as this wasn't prowling the wilderness heavily armed because he was a saint. She stood up and went to the door to let Vincent in.
The room had been equipped with a locking mechanism and you had to know where the catch was in order to get in or out, a necessary precaution to protect everyone. She managed to reach the door and open it just as Vincent approached.
"Would you go to the hall closet and fetch fresh bed clothes, I'd forgotten." She managed, trying to divert the slightly embarrassed flush to her cheek before her friend noticed. With a small chuff Vincent turned on one heal to go back the way he'd came, but before he'd gone a few steps there was a loud crash behind Inara and she disappeared back into the room.
With his natural felinity, Vincent moved quickly and came in right behind her to see the man on the floor next to the bed. In his clumsy attempt to get up he'd knocked down the tray of medical supplies to land sprawled face down on the ground. Inara dropped down next to him and grabbed his arm to pull him over onto his back so that she could check the stitches and bandage across his belly. If the wound had opened again it could lead to a more severe infection. Thankfully he was once again unconscious.
Vincent dropped down on the other side of his body waiting for her diagnosis. The man was naked except for the bandages around his waist, so Inara removed the pin holding them in place and carefully lifted the gauze to inspect the laceration.
"He's fine." She announced, "But leave him there for a moment so I can go ahead and clean up. At least it doesn't look like anything is broken, just all over the place." She stood and began the task. "He's lucky he's in such good shape; the flesh is taut enough so that there isn't a lot of pull on the stitches. That's probably why they didn't tear." She mumbled. Vincent had to hide a snicker in response to her comment, because for her that was as good a compliment about the stranger's physique as any she'd ever made about another living soul other than her horse.
Vincent regarded the stranger, much as he had when he'd first arrived. He took note of the crisscross of scars that marked the man's skin from shoulder to calve. This was a man who had a hard life, no doubt because of his face, which probably meant his soul had also been equally abused. Vincent inhaled deeply, honing his empathic abilities and aiming it at the body, but all he could sense was confusion with anxiety covering an ocean of anguish.
As one of the last of a dying race Vincent had scars of his own, and shared a moment of sympathy with the stranger. He'd come through a stronger man, and more confident in his own character and integrity. But not everyone comes through tribulation with an enlightened view of things. In fact most take the low road of rage and vengeance. Where did this fellow fall?
When she was done she collected the tray, which Vincent had reassembled, from the floor and performed another inventory. She then came back to help lift the man back to the bed. Vincent was amused as always that she believed he needed help to pick him up, so he scooped up the body and stood in one effortless motion before she could lend a hand.
"Be careful not to bend his waist." She said with a look of aggravation. Vincent walked easily to the other side of the bed and set the man down on the fresh sheets. Inara immediately began unraveling the bandage, cleaning the wound, applying a medicinal salve, and redressing it. Just as she was about to place the pins to hold the gauze a hand suddenly appeared and roughly grabbed her wrist, making her look up to a pair of wild eyes gazing at her accusingly.
Vincent moved with his cat like speed to pry Inara's hand from the stranger's grip, but when the man turned to look at him his eyes went with shock. He began to struggle violently against Vincent's grip. He was strong for a man so injured and who had just awoken after a day and a half of sleep. Inara knew that the man was acting out of fear, so she moved forward and placed a gentle a hand on each cheek, forcing him to look at her, and spoke slowly in French.
"No one here is going to hurt you, so there is nothing to fear. Please stop or you will hurt yourself. You are wounded and we are tending your injuries. Please stop fighting! The man looked nervously into her eyes, glancing back to Vincent, and finally trying to wrestle away from him. She had to unlock Vincent's grip on the man's wrist before he crushed it. After his earlier fall, the exertion of energy in fighting had been too much for the stranger. He tried for a moment to speak, but then fell unconscious again. Inara looked anxiously to Vincent before assessing if any damage had been done to the injury. Finding everything in order she drew the coverlet over her patient and collected her remaining supplies.
"You shouldn't be alone with this man, he's much stronger than he looks." He said worriedly.
"As am I and I have other hidden talents as you know. I have nothing to fear." She stated flatly as she picked up the tray and headed out of the room with Vincent following closely behind. "Would you take these dirty sheets to Catherine, I think she needs one more good morning from you."
"I'd still feel better if someone was with you whenever you tend him. It wouldn't kill you, but it would certainly ease all our minds." Inara chuckled at the implication and nodded acquiescence. They parted ways at the bottom of the stairs. For a moment she stood alone in the small store room and allowed a feeling of dismay to descend. She didn't like the thought of using extreme measures to protect her home and family, especially after having taken such pains to nurse this man back to health, but she would if she had too. She looked down at her hands, as she had done countless times before, wondering how she would handle more blood on them.
