Yo dudes! I like totally apologise for the humungous delay, however real life sent me a rogue wave and I kind of like, had a dissertation for my degree to do. Any way, this is just a little something to let you off of the cliffie I left ya all on ;)
Disclaimer: Van Helsing and co. are highly trained weapons experts, do not attempt to copy anything at home, or anywhere else for that matter. This is an amateur writing attempt, no money is being made and the denting of the characters is entirely intentional, so don't sue.
Chapter 8 – Not Quite.
Kellan and Tyris, being the nearest, were able to grab the hunter before he was able to slump all the way to the floor. Tyris, who was on his right, noticed the expanding bloodstain that had even managed to soak through his coat, and pulled it back to reveal the large, deep wound. "This is deep, I can see bone. I'm surprised he stayed standing as long as he did. We need to stop this bleeding, or he'll die."
"Take him to my chambers," Tarja said, stepping down from the tomb and striding across the room. "We can treat him there."
"What about that?" Cecaise asked, giving the remains on the floor only a cursory glance.
"Remove it from this hallowed place and bury it. Away from the Coven." Tarja answered dispassionately, opening the door.
"We need to hurry," Tyris said, holding Cade's blade in her hand.
"Why?" Kellan, holding the hunter up with an arm around his waist and the hunter's arm slung over his shoulder.
"This blade was poisoned. If we don't get the poison out, there will be nothing we can do." Tyris answered. Sheathing the blade she stood and took the other side of Van Helsing. "One thing Cade was always good at was poison."
Carl, who had not said a word throughout the entire confrontation, moved forward and took the door from Tarja. "I'll hold the door, you lead the way." Concern was evident upon his face.
"Don't worry Carl, he will be alright." Tarja comforted as she turned and walked through the door.
Following her lead, Kellan and Tyris carried the unconscious man through the door and followed down winding corridors. Carl, trailing behind them, observed the path they were taking. "Are we not going upstairs?"
"Tarja's old chambers are down here. She always felt more at home with the earth and preferred rooms that were underground to the ones that are upstairs and in the towers." Kellan replied, his voice showing almost no strain from carrying the hunter's unconscious form.
After turning a few more corners, they came to a large set of doors, intricately carved and made of solid oak. Pushing the doors open, Tarja stepped aside to reveal a well-furnished room with a large bed in the far corner. Moving through the door, the two Elite carried Van Helsing over to the bed and laid him down.
Removing his coat and handing it to Kellan, Tyris began to cut away his shirt with a blade. "I need some hot water, bandages and my healing herb bag I have in my room."
"I know where they are, I'll get them." Kellan offered, placing the coat he had been given on the nearby chair. On his way out, he placed a hand on Carl's shoulder. "Van Helsing will be fine, Tyris is well known for her healing abilities. Although, she may need your help." With a faint smile he left.
Tarja had already begun to light a fire in the hearth by the bed and had begun to place water over the growing fire to boil. Carl, realising that he could actually help, having patched Van Helsing back together many times in the field, moved closer to the bed. "What can I do?"
"Help me get his shirt off, I need to get at the wound." She replied. She finished cutting the shirt along the right side, using the already ripped area to pull. Carl lifted Van Helsing's shoulder as she peeled the shirt down and around his back, out of the way.
"Here's some water," Tarja said, placing a bowl of warm water and a clean cloth down beside them.
"I need you both to be ready to hold him down, in case he comes around while I clean this. If he moves I'll have to start all over again." Tyris told them, taking the cloth and placing it in the bowl. Closing her eyes she began to sing, a lilting melody, methodically wetting and wringing the cloth out as she did so.
Carl, who had taken up position to restrain Van Helsing's shoulders if he should stir, looked up in surprise, recognising the language she was using. "That's a Lakota chant," he stated, surprise evident within his voice.
Tyris simply continued, ignoring Carl's statement. Taking the cloth, she began to clean the still oozing wound. The song seemed to fill the room with a sense of peace and refreshment, and as she continued the oozing appeared to slow, and then stop.
"How…" Carl asked, voice slightly hushed in awe. He had seen a few healing wonders in his time at the Order, but never seen someone stop serious bleeding with a wet cloth and a song.
Turning to look at him with tired eyes Tyris smiled. "You were right, it is a Lakota chant. The Lakota, who taught me how to heal using their ways and magic, raised me. It is a chant that calls upon both my ancestors and his in order to help heal. The herbs I sent Kellan to get will help too. They will counteract the poison that was on the knife."
Just then, Kellan entered; bag in hand and with an arm full of bandages. "I have the herbs and brought some bandages. Have you managed to stop the bleeding?" Handing her the bandages he knelt and inspected her work.
"Yes, it was difficult going. Almost as if something was trying to block the healing, but I managed it." She replied, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I trust you can remember how to make a poultice and bandage the wound?"
"I can," he replied, giving her a concerned look. "You had to use a lot of energy didn't you." It was not a question but more of a statement. At her small nod he turned to Carl. "Can you and Tarja manage with the rest?"
"Why, er, yes we can. Is there something wrong?" He too had noticed the sudden paleness of the red clad Elite female.
"Although I hate to admit weakness, healing always drains me, and I'm afraid I used more energy than I normally do. Kellan being his overprotective self wants me to go and lie down before I fall down." Tyris answered with a wry smile in Kellan's direction. Before she could say more he had hefted her in his arms and had begun to walk for the door. "I shall be fine once I have had some rest, and I will come and check to see whether the herbs have worked. We have done everything we can and can do no more than wait and see," she called over his shoulder.
"Don't mind Kellan, Carl," Tarja said as she walked around the bed and began to unroll the first bandage. "He can be very protective of Tyris and knows that she would not have said anything right up until the moment where she collapses." At his confused look she smiled. "It has happened before in the past."
They worked in companionable silence as they binded the wound, placing the poultice on it and re-bandaging the hunter's arm also. Throughout the entire time they were working he did not stir, but continued to breathe slowly and deeply, deeply unconscious. When they had finished Carl felt he had to ask the one question he already knew the answer to: "When will we know if he will be alright?"
Tarja looked at him with compassion, she knew what it was like to have a friend's life in the balance and what it was to lose one. "When he wakes up," was the only answer she could give him. "I will send for a few blankets and a cot to be sent down, you can spend the night here if you wish. Tyris will be back in a few hours, and will check to see if the poison has been stopped. If not, then she can try another healing."
Carl absently nodded, thoughts running to the events in the chamber. "The being gave you a gift of power, why did you use it to kill that man?" He turned to look her in the eyes, wanting an honest answer.
"I didn't, I allowed the spirits of this coven to decide, and allowed them to act through me. I take no pleasure in killing Carl. I only did what was necessary. If we had let him go, Mercer would know what we had accomplished and would have hidden the cross, killed Nico and made sure that no one in this Coven would live, including Van Helsing and you. The spirits agreed." The pain of that decision shined in her eyes, "I will see his death for the rest of my life."
"You didn't think he was a traitor did you?" he asked, suddenly understanding she had viewed him as a friend, even if it was only on her part.
"No, no I didn't," she replied and turned to leave. "I will return with Tyris, until then I have a Coven to rebuild," with that, she left.
Carl, finding himself alone, turned to begin the lonely vigil at his friend's side and did the one thing that came naturally. He prayed.
Van Helsing opened his eyes to reveal darkness and a sense of displacement. This wasn't where he was supposed to be. Automatically reaching for his weapons he sat up and realised that he could feel no pain. Hadn't he just been in some bizarre ritual with Nico's wife, where a traitor had tried to kill him? His hand went to his side, no blood. 'Okay, now things are starting to get a bit on the weird side' he thought as he turned to take in his surroundings.
"Carl! Tarja!" he called, waiting for their reply, hearing nothing, just the endless dark.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of white, and turning to see he was left stunned. Stood before him was the one person he thought he would never see again, no matter how much he had wished to
"Hello Van Helsing," the accent was unmistakable, as were the long dark brown locks.
"Am I dead?" he asked, staring at the one person he had allowed to get close to his heart.
Anna Valerious smiled, "Not quite."
That's it for this chapter, but I will be doing a mass writing session, so more is on the way. PLEASE review, let me know if you want anyone to be whumped!