Chapter 8:
The wound stung as Armand spread a wet, hot towel over her back, Mandila doing her best not to whimper when the heat spread across her burned flesh. It hurt like hell, and was made worse by the fact that she'd never experienced anything like this in her entire life. Thankfully, Armand was a gentle man, and he treated the wounds with far more efficiency than she would have, making him the perfect nurse.
"How does that feel?" he asked.
"Terrible," she muttered, and he patted her shoulder with a sigh.
"You should have spoken to me before going after that house. It's been rumored that the owner's a powerful conjuror." Mandila continued to lie on her stomach and breath deeply as she considered the attack that had maimed her, and Armand was right; she had been foolish, but if it hadn't been for that ghost, she'd have pulled the mission off beautifully.
"I wanted to go after something big," she confessed. "I've only been doing small jobs lately, and I know that it doesn't look good. You're already on my case about Lex." Armand smiled fondly and smoothed her hair like she imagined a father might do for a troubled daughter.
"I know that you're annoyed with me, but I have to ask: What was the captain doing bringing you home last night?" Here we go again.
"He was on duty, Armand, and despite what you might think, he cares about protecting people. He wouldn't have let me die." The room was silent, and she slowly shifted her head to look at her superior. "How soon do you think I can go back to work?" She hoped that her eagerness for activity would offset her brief defense of the captain, and she was pleased that it seemed to do so as Armand shook his head.
"The wound looks infected," he warned. "So you might be off of the streets for some time. You ought to go to the temple."
"No!" Mandila asserted. "I don't like magic."
"It's not really magic," Armand reasoned.
"But what if the gods won't heal me because I'm a thief? They don't help the notorious." She honestly worried about that, even though she didn't feel like a wicked person, and what if the alter failed to respond to her? She would look guilty whether or not anyone could prove that she was. No, she'd rather not risk it, and magic gave her the creeps.
"Keep an eye on it," Armand told her. "That's the best that I can do. Do you feel dizzy at all?"
"Not really," but Mandila did feel a tad lightheaded, and there was an itchiness to her wound that made her want to scratch until her skin peeled off. The only thing keeping her twitching fingers in check was Armand's presence—that and the fact that she had a hard time reaching the center of her back. Maybe if she found a stick or something...
"Don't scratch or agitate it," Armand ordered. Damn it, and Mandila tried to ignore how horrible she felt. She'd been sick once or twice, and this was by far worse than any of those incidents. She wondered if the room was supposed to feel as hot as it did. Probably not, but she would only go to the temple as a last resort, and she was about to mentally vow not to cave to either Lex or Armand when several loud shouts from outside drew her attention to the open door of her shack. Armand had left it open at her behest for fresh air, and as he too looked outside, his face arranged itself into the most dire frown that Mandila had ever witnessed, and the reason quickly made itself known. People were milling about the shoddy, waterfront streets outside, chatting and warning each other that the world had gone crazy.
"What's going on?" Mandila asked.
"The bastard's actually going through with it," Armand ground out. "He's going to tax the waterfront."
"What? Today?" Mandila asked, shocked, and Armand shot her a reproving stare.
"You can't ever underestimate the callousness of Captain Lex." Mandila did not want to believe that Lex was doing this, but of course he was, and she had to accept that, for he hadn't changed since she'd started talking to him. The difference was that she now saw more to him than she ever had, and that was clouding her expectations of him. The image of her knight in shining armor began to crumple as she watched the captain and a tax collector begin walking amongst the shabby huts that her neighbors called homes. It wasn't just or fair, and Mandila seethed as she watched the first person turn over several coins to the guards.
"I can't watch this," Armand spat, and he left Mandila's home for his own, Lex and the long-running guild authority viciously glaring at one another when their paths crossed. In the name of Stendar, couldn't the captain see that these people had nothing to spare? Mandila was highly upset, which was unusual in itself, and the situation was worsened since Armand was proven correct and she was wrong. Where was the kind man that had nearly carried her home last night? He seemed gone when she looked at the unforgiving, but still admirable stance of the captain as another poor person turned out their pockets for a fee of two gold. Lex seemed so untouchable in that moment, and the scene rang of what had first attracted Mandila to him, but her anger was still boiling.
He was going after one of her friends now, and the Bosmer could take it no longer. She stood, wobbling as she exited her house, and angry with both herself and him, charging at his armored body as quickly as she could. Each step made her cringe, and the urge to itch was almost uncontrollable, but each nauseating push brought her closer to speaking her mind. It was not in her to tactfully hold back her tongue when she felt compelled to do something, and so, as she reached her target, she heedlessly reached out and tapped Lex's armored shoulder.
"Excuse me," she angrily demanded, and all activity around her instantly seemed to stop or continue in slow motion as the captain spun on her, clearly surprised at her tone. She had never been angry with him before—not like this, and she had certainly never glared at him with any genuine malice, but negative emotions poured from her now, even as the temperature around her soared. Gods, but she was sweating, and it wasn't supposed to be that hot today. It had been fairly mild all week, so why did she suddenly feel like she'd been tossed in an oven?
"Mandila," Lex nodded, noting her pale complexion. "How can I be of service?"
"Don't give me that formal crap," Mandila harshly replied. "Can't you see that these people are poor? Taking even two coins from them can mean a day's food!" But Lex seemed unmoved by her comments, which only added fuel to the fire.
"It's only lawful that they pay taxes like everyone else in the city," he explained. "No one gets special treatment."
"Do you actually believe that?" Mandila demanded, and Lex's gaze hardened.
"Yes, I do, citizen." Mandila wiped the sweat from her brow and decided to find a tree to scratch her back against just as soon as she was done here. Curses, but that blasted sun was making her want to guzzle water and even jump in the harbor again.
"People with money get special treatment under the law all of the time," she forced out. "When my brother was murdered, did anyone come to his aid? No! They didn't even collect the body for a whole day, and the boys who did it got off light. Why? Because they came from influential families, and why ruin their lives for some homeless boy?" Mandila felt the hot tears running down her face, outraged that Lex did not understand, but how could he? He'd never lived in their shoes, and he probably had no idea what it was like, because he was too busy being the perfect captain. He had never seen her brother's broken body bleeding in a ditch, begging for burial, and what hurt the most was remembering that she couldn't even give him that since proper burials were so expensive.
"Mandila," Lex began, clearly uncomfortable with this crying elf before him.
"No!" she told him. "Don't act like you care when you're making the burden on us even greater. You're just angry because you think that we're all in cahoots with the Grey Fox! I thought that someone like you might be able to see..." Biting her tongue, she began to lose her bearings, and she faltered for a few seconds, body swaying precariously.
"You didn't take a potion," she heard Lex accuse. One of his hands gripped her arm to steady her, but Mandila ripped it away from him. "Go the temple," he ordered. "Your wound is probably infected. That can be deadly if you let it go unattended."
"I'll take care of myself like I've always had to," came the hurt and unsteady reply. Mandila backed up and threw several coins at his feet.
"There's my contribution to the royal coffers," she sighed, no longer angry. She was just sad from thinking about her brother's death and how life had a way of devouring some of the kindest and most unfortunate people. She turned and made her way back to her shack, shutting the door behind her so that she could slump onto the bed and sleep. She was so tired, and she would do anything to escape the heat. The room was spinning, and for a second, she imagined that the door was opening, and Lex was coming through to apologize and heal her. Her fevered vision grew hazier, and as she looked up, there was no mistaking that she was alone. Lex wouldn't come, for he would be finishing his duties, and she wasn't his responsibility to distract him from that.
************
Lex couldn't believe that this was the same Bosmer that was the trickster terror of the waterfront. He had never seen her so angry, but now she sounded not only angry but hurt, and her bundle of emotions all seemed connected to him. How did he invoke such responses in her, and why wasn't he annoyed with her right now? She looked so weak and tired as she began to cry, talking about her brother and the injustice of her life. Lex wanted to tell her that if he had been there, the criminals would not have gotten off, and he would never let a body lie in the gutter for an entire day, waiting for someone to claim it, but he couldn't tell her that. She was too distressed to listen, and she was clearly unwell.
"Mandila," he said, reaching out to support her unsteady body. She was sick, sad, frustrated, and accusing him of wrongdoing when he suspected that she had been involved in distracting him from a heist several days ago. He should be the one who was angry, and he had been, giving her the coldness that she deserved the day after the drinking incident. Had the kiss been part of her act too? Part of him said yes, and the other part couldn't believe that the open, wanting expressions that she bestowed on him were false. There was something so genuine about the elf's attentions to him that he found being around her uncomfortable at times, and he shouldn't encourage her if this was some type of girlish fixation, which he was beginning to suspect.
He had thought that being a bit more distant would solve the issue, for he didn't want to give her any false hopes, and he could see that his decision to converse with her might have unwittingly encouraged her. He wasn't cruel enough to take advantage of her—although he was always considering doing so if he found her connected to the Thieves' Guild—and he had thought that distance was working. Yesterday he had snubbed her on the harbor, and although he hadn't liked the hurt expression that she gave him, he could live with it. Then she'd injured herself, and he had been surprised at the strength of his concern for her wellbeing. She was always smiling like some bright beacon of positive energy, but to see her pained and serious had seemed wrong.
Like now, he realized. She was in no condition to be out and about, and he was annoyed at her persistence as she pulled away from him. Fine then, maybe this would widen the gap that she'd been bridging between them, for he had realized that he was more social with her now. He'd even enjoyed drinking with her, and maybe he was still concerned with her injury. By the nine, when had he started to care about this woman? She should be nothing to him but a distraction, and she was probably one of them. Well, he reasoned that he could lock her away without hating her like he did the Grey Fox, and she might help him in the end. This young woman clearly had a rougher life than he'd thought, and by the disappointed look that she was giving him for collecting taxes, it would appear that she did indeed have a soft spot for him. He'd been denying it, but this assault on him was too heartfelt and personal for him to ignore the implications, and after the drinking incident...
But what did she expect from him?
Lex had the urge to drag her out of her shack and force her to the temple. She was being foolish, giving him a hard time, and making him question the pure elation that he had only recently felt when seeing how angry Armand was. Agitating Armand was part of his goal, for the man stood as a symbol of lawlessness, but Lex had not anticipated also angering Mandila. Part of him had expected to finish the taxes and return to patrol, her happily chirping at his side until she annoyed him too much, but she didn't always annoy him. He had been thinking about her more often since the kiss, and he'd come to realize that she was one of the few people that treated him with admiration and respect. Even when she taunted him, there was a trace of appreciation that emerged when serious issues descended upon them, and he had yet to experience that from anyone else on this godforsaken waterfront.
He might enjoy her company on occasion, and he might even care about her current health, but Lex, that is no reason to...
"Finish here," he ordered the tax collector. "There is something that I need to attend to." He was a captain of the guard, and he was not going to let someone die from stupidity, however tempting. So he marched over to Mandila's house, pausing before the door and debating whether or not he should do this. After all, it was her decision, and she would earn herself the medical complications by way of her stubbornness, and perhaps this did go beyond what his duties required.
But you disappointed her. He had little experience in that area, for he always did his job with an exactness that people expected and took for granted. He had never disappointed any citizen who'd he helped, at least not to his knowledge. For the most part, people on the waterfront didn't expect anything beneficial from him (even though the idiots should), and so they could not be disappointed by his actions, only angry or scared. In light of that, it ate at Lex's insides to realize how strongly a few harsh comments from a Bosmer were bothering him, for slander and fired words usually bounced off of him like straw arrows. He'd had years of practice at ignoring comments, but then again, they had never came from someone who seemed to think very highly of him.
He raised his hand to knock on Mandila's door but froze, the debate growing more heated. Damn it, but he probably looked like a fool right now, and he loathed looking like a fool. It made him want to double the taxes on these people, just to show them that they had no right to laugh at him. With gritted teeth, he realized that his pride would not let him do this—something as simple as knocking on a door to check on someone's welfare.
It's not personal, he told himself. Do your job, and force her to see reason. That sounded like something that he could go along with, and so he gently knocked, opening the door when he received no answer. Mandila was curled in a ball on her bed, the position making her look much younger than she was, and her hair forming a curtain over her face.
"Citizen," he called. "Mandila." She stirred and stared up at him as he leaned over her. "You need to go to the temple or this is going to get worse."
"You can't even leave me alone in my dreams, can you?" she asked, clearly not believing that he was in her house.
"You're being foolish," he told her. "Now get up and put your boots on." Mandila slowly sat up and did as she was told, Lex helping her stand and leading her toward the door. He could see that her back was bandaged, but that would not help with an infection. "Be careful," he cautioned as she nearly fell.
"It's so hot," she complained. "Aren't you dieing in that armor?" Lex sighed and let her lean on him as he motioned to a nearby guard. This was as far as he'd take her, for it wouldn't do to be seen being so soft before people who were mostly set against him. And the way that she was reaching out a hand to trace the front of his armor was creating a strange urgency within him that demanded he get rid of her as soon as possible.
"Take her to the Temple," he ordered the man before him. "See that she gets treatment, and then return to patrol."
"Yes, sir," the man answered, taking over Lex's supportive position of Mandila. As the two walked off, Mandila turned her head and gave Lex a lopsided and goofy smile that could only be attributed to the infection. Still, it was better than seeing her upset, but not everyone was pleased with his actions. As Lex returned to tax work, he noticed that Armand was standing outside of a nearby house, a hard gaze pinned on him. The heat that passed between the two made others shy away, and Lex attributed the other's anger solely to the taxes, which gave him great pleasure. What he did not realize was that Armand was very close to telling him off and ordering him to stay the hell away from Mandila. The older thief could see the danger of what was happening between Lex and Mandila more clearly than either of the participants could.