Chapter Four
"I need aid!" Seth called as he carried Eirika to the healers' tent. Her head lolled to the side and her pallor terrified him. Blood had soaked through the cloth binding her arm and into his tunic so that he could feel its sticky warmth against his skin.
Natasha appeared, staff in hand. Her eyes widened as she saw them but there was no hesitation as she spoke. "Set her down here," she said indicating a treatment slab. Eirika moaned as he lay her down, her face a mask of pain. "Bring me the disinfectant," she ordered one of the apprentice healers before turning her attention back to her patient. Eirika's eyes snapped open as Natasha began unwinding the cloth that bandaged the wound and she paused. "This will hurt for a moment, princess, but then I'll be able to treat you."
Eirika managed a nod, but she was biting through her lip as Natasha peeled away the blood-soaked cloth. Seth, aching with helplessness, found himself clasping Eirika's hand. "All will be well," he whispered, as she gripped his hand with such force that he almost thought he could hear his bones creak in protest. Her eyes, wide and glassy, fixed on him as if he could somehow banish the pain. But all he could do was stroke her face and assure her that she would fine.
By the time the apprentice had returned with a bottle of emerald coloured fluid, Natasha had managed to unwind the torn cloth. Seth could not miss the way her lips thinned to a line as she peered down at the wound. "The wound is deep, more than my staff can heal in one treatment. I'm going to apply a disinfectant. You'll feel a sharp burning sensation."
Again Eirika nodded and Natasha poured the green salve liberally over the open wound. This time Eirika could not hold back a cry. Able only to watch as her features contorted with pain, Seth wanted to die. This was his fault, his entirely. She murmured his name and looked to him again and his helplessness wrenched at him.
"That's the worst of it," Natasha said gently. And then, finally, she raised her staff. A soft glow pulsed from the staff and Seth could actually see the flesh of Eirika's arm beginning to knit together. And though it did not heal completely, the flow of blood slowed to a crawl. Only when he looked to Natasha and received a firm nod and an encouraging smile did relief sweep over him. He was no fool; he knew that without a healer close at hand such a wound could easily have been fatal.
Eirika's breathing steadied with the touch of the staff and though she remained very pale, the lines of her face had relaxed as the pain had begun to ebb away. Seth stayed with her, clasping her hand all the while, as Natasha removed his belt looped around Eirika's arm and proceeded to properly bandage the wound with a splint. Seth was thankful that this had been done before Ephraim could burst into the healers' pavilion. At Natasha's suggestion, he carried Eirika to the far wing of the healers' pavilion where they would be out of the way and she could rest.
By then, the injured from the battle had begun being brought in and Natasha left to treat them. He glimpsed L'Arachel and Moulder bustling about as well. The healers' pavilion was essentially made up of three large tents strung together, the outer ward being used for triage, the middle one for treatment, and the furthest back as a place for patients to rest. Looking through the long segments of the tent towards the entrance, Seth could see the casualties coming in. Soldiers were carried in on stretchers or aided, limping, as he watched, unable to bring himself to leave Eirika's side. They were suffering just as she had, and many of them did every day. His warning about the coming attack had helped to reduce casualties, certainly, but they could not be avoided entirely. They spilled their blood day in and day out... and there was nothing he could do to stop all this suffering.
"Where is my sister?" Ephraim demanded as he marched into the healers' tent. One of the apprentice healers pointed to the corner where Seth remained by Eirika's side. Bile rose in Seth's throat as the future King of Renais strode towards them.
"How is she?" Ephraim asked immediately, but one look at Seth told him all he needed to know. He stared at Seth, looking shaken, and Seth realized that his hands and clothes were covered in blood. Hers.
"She's sleeping, my lord," he said as he rose to his feet and offered a low bow.
"I was told that you'd been seen carrying her here. What happened?"
He steeled himself to deliver his report. "Gwyllgis, three of them. She somehow became separated from the rest of our forces and she fought them off alone. Her arm was badly mauled, the bones crushed." Ephraim's eyes lingered on his sister's sleeping form as Seth spoke. "She'll be all right. She'll require several more treatments before her arm is fully healed, however."
"I see," Ephraim said quietly. "Thank you, Seth."
Ephraim's words were like salt in a wound. "It was my fault, lord Ephraim. I was late. I should have been with her, but I–"
"Enough, Seth," Ephraim said– quietly but with a firmness that ceased all protest. "You couldn't have known." Seth did not speak then for he could not tell Ephraim how wrong he was. "You should go get some rest."
"But, my lord–"
Ephraim raised a hand. "At least get yourself cleaned up."
Seth nodded and bowed his head. As he turned to leave, casting a last, furtive glance in Eirika's direction, he saw her stir and open her eyes. Ephraim knelt by her side. "Brother," she said weakly.
"You gave me a scare," he said with a smile as he reached out and began stroking her face.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Seth turned towards the exit but he paused before he'd taken more than a few steps as he heard Ephraim say, "I hear tell that a gallant knight saved you."
Clenching his fists, Seth strode out of the tent. Ephraim was wrong. Today he had failed her entirely. In a few hours' time, all this would be erased but the pain she suffered now, at this moment, was real... as real as the blood on his hands.
ooo
Though he was wearier that night than he had been since this ordeal had begun, Seth had no desire to rest. Instead, he procured a jug of water and returned to his tent where he stripped off his bloodied garments and scrubbed himself clean. The water was icy and gooseflesh rose on his skin in the cool air, but he scrubbed mercilessly until his skin felt raw. All the while, his vision was filled with the memory of Eirika's face contorted with agony. His sense of vague indifference from that afternoon seemed now like a weight carried about his neck.
It was late when he finally returned to the healers' tent. He came to an abrupt halt a few paces from the entrance when he glimpsed Ephraim in what seemed a rather heated discussion with Tana.
"Please be reasonable, Ephraim. You need your rest for tomorrow."
Ephraim's arms were crossed over his chest, his back straight, shoulders squared. "There's no need for you to worry. I'm fine."
"Stop that! You don't need to be so formal as if we–"
"Pardon me," Seth said loudly as he stepped towards them.
Tana coloured and her evident abashment only made Seth all the more uncomfortable. "Oh. Sir Seth... Good evening."
Seth bowed. "Princess Tana. Lord Ephraim. How is Lady Eirika?"
"Much as you left her," Ephraim replied.
"My lord," Seth began, "you will be leading our forces tomorrow in battle. You need your rest. If you would allow me the honour, I will watch over Princess Eirika."
For a long moment, Ephraim peered at him and Seth could not help but be reminded of King Fado. The late king had had a way of looking at you so that you felt he could read your most secret thoughts.
Relief flooded through him as Ephraim finally nodded. "All right. You win, the both of you. I'll get some rest. But make sure she's all right, Seth, that she's comfortable. She's not like us, you know. She's never endured such a serious injury."
"Eirika will be all right," Tana assured Ephraim, reaching out tentatively to squeeze his arm. "She's stronger than you give her credit for."
Ephraim smiled at this and nodded. "You're right, of course." He sighed then and turned once more to Seth. "Goodnight then."
"Goodnight, my lord. Princess," he said, bowing.
He made his way through to the back area of the healers' tents where a dozen or so soldiers were resting soundly. Most of the wounded, once treated by the healers' staves, were well enough to be sent to their tents, but those with more grievous injuries remained under the healer's close watch. It pained him that Eirika should be one of these. The assistant healers, who guarded their patients like a mother bear would her cubs, normally chased out all visitors, but, recognizing him, they only told him that the princess was resting and that she ought not to be disturbed. When he insisted on staying they handed him something to give her in case she were to wake and then returned to their other duties.
It was dark where the injured rested, the only light coming from a small lantern by the entrance. As he sat by Eirika's side, her face was masked in shadow.
The night dragged on as he sat, silent, listening to the breathing of the injured men and women around him. Now and then a low moan would rise and occasionally one of the apprentice healers would stop in to check on a patient. He listened to their groans, looked on their bandaged limbs or head or face, and felt the weight of their suffering settle over him like a rain dampened cowl. It was he alone who could ease their pain... if anyone could.
It was late into the night, an hour or so before the day would come to an abrupt halt, when Eirika stirred. "Ephraim?" she murmured. She grimaced as she moved.
"Drink this," Seth said, holding out the tin cup the healers had left him with. "It will help with the pain."
She raised herself enough to take the cup and drink down the murky brew, grimacing yet again, though this time from the bitter taste, Seth was certain. He had had to down such concoctions before and recalled how little pleasant they usually were.
She set down the cup and, laying back, turned her head slightly to look in his direction. "Seth," she whispered. "You're here." She reached out in the darkness and what else could he do but clasp her hand in both of his?
"I'm here, my lady. Lord Ephraim was ordered to get his rest."
She chuckled. "Tana's doing, I imagine."
"Yes, milady."
A minute's silence followed before she spoke again. "How bad is it? I asked the healers but they just tell me I'll be fine and that I need to rest."
"You'll recover. With time and a few more treatments."
"I see. So I... I won't be able to fight tomorrow." It was impossible to ignore the quaver in her voice.
"Lady Eirika..." How could he tell her that there would be no tomorrow? "I'm sorry. I should have been there sooner. I–" Groping in the darkness, she managed to loose her hand from his and press her fingers over his lips.
"Seth..." The way she said his name sent a shiver down his spine. There was such fondness in her tone, such warmth, that even undeserving as he was, he could not help but take her hand once more and squeeze it all the more tightly. "If I commanded you to stop burdening yourself with guilt would it do any good?"
"My lady..."
"After the war... After everything is settled, I–" She bit back a cry as she shifted, disturbing her injured arm.
He stroked her face and made soothing sounds until her features relaxed. "It will be better in the morning, I promise you," he said, bringing her hand to his lips as he had never before dared.
"Seth..." Eirika whispered.
His eyes shot up towards the entrance as he thought he saw a silhouette there and glimpsed a flutter of white robes.
"You should rest," he said gently, laying down Eirika's hand.
"So should you. Right now, I mean. I won't be there with you tomorrow," she said quietly, "so I want to know that you'll be ready."
He nodded. "Rest well, my lady," he said as he rose.
"And you, Seth."
And he would indeed have gone to get some sleep had he not known that less than an hour remained before the day began again in its seemingly inalterable loop.
When he left the darkened area where the patients slept, he was little surprised to find Natasha waiting there. He'd thought it might have been her.
"Sister Natasha," he greeted her with a nod. "Is it not late for you to be doing the rounds?"
She nodded. "Yes. Only... I couldn't sleep. Knowing how many will be injured in tomorrow's battle..." She paused then, her eyes avoiding his face. "General Seth, I must apologise. I had only meant to check on our patients. I didn't intend to eavesdrop, much less on a... personal moment." He cringed inwardly as he thought of how things must have looked to an observer. He had taken liberties with the princess that no simple retainer ought to have dared take. And she had let him.
He ought to protest, to deny that there had been anything personal, only a retainer trying to comfort his injured liege. But it would be a bald-faced lie and he could not summon the energy when he knew that soon all of this would be forgotten.
"You care deeply for Princess Eirika, don't you?"
"I..." Seth cleared his throat. "She is my liege, and I, only a knight. I've sworn sacred oaths..."
A faint smiled played on Natasha's lips as she spoke, though her gaze was distant. "I've discovered that some oaths are worth breaking."
"Pardon?"
"Oh. I–" She looked up at him. For a moment she appeared uncertain, but then a smile appeared on her face. "A secret for a secret, general," she said and, before he could ask what she meant, she reached into her robes and pulled out a gold chain that was strung around her neck. Dangling on the chain was a heavy ring encrusted with a large ruby. He had seen that ring before on the finger of a certain roguish prince.
"That ring... It belongs to Prince Joshua, does it not?" She nodded. "I'd noticed he was no longer wearing it but I thought he'd lost it in a bet perhaps."
Natasha smiled. "Actually he lost it by winning a bet." Seth quirked an eyebrow. She shook her head. "Never mind."
"So," Seth began, brow crinkled, "you and Prince Joshua plan to marry?"
Natasha nodded. "After the war, yes. I had meant to return home and serve my people in Grado, and I still intend to aid them if the great catastrophe strikes, but I wish to do so by Joshua's side. If any good, any happiness can come out of this terrible war then I've decided to embrace it. And I would wager my happiness on him."
"I... see. I wish you both the utmost happiness."
"Thank you, general. And I hope the same for you."
He resisted the urge to glanced over his shoulder, back to where the patients lay, to where Eirika rested, injured because of his laxity. "Might I ask you your thoughts on a peculiar matter?" he said without quite looking at Natasha.
"Yes, of course, general."
"I heard a tale today– a man, punished by the gods to relive the same day over and over, a day filled with strife, with none of his friends or comrades having any memory of events once the day began again. What would such a man have to live for, do you think?"
Her eyebrows arched but she said nothing for a minute or so as she mulled over his question. "I suppose he would have to do his utmost to atone for his crime with the hope of someday freeing himself," she said finally. "I've not heard this tale. What crime did this man's commit to earn such a punishment, if I may ask?"
Seth sighed. "I'm not certain. Overreaching perhaps." And this time he did glance over his shoulder. "I won't trouble you any longer," he said as he turned back. "Goodnight."
"General Seth," she said as he moved towards the exit. He stopped but did not turn to look at her. "If I might offer you a word of advice... I believe the Everlasting smiles upon the love shared by Its creations. And I think sometimes it is we and not the gods who make the chains that bind us."
For a moment he remained still. He would not allow himself to believe that the gods had anything to do with his predicament for surely they would not punish Eirika in this manner. She was innocent. It was he who... But perhaps it all came to the same thing for here he was regardless of the cause. "Goodnight, Sister Natasha," he said once again and then marched out of the healers' tent.
With the remaining minutes of the day he took a lantern and made his way to the glade where Garcia and Dozla had attempted sorcery that evening. However, the staff they'd been using was nowhere to be seen.