Savage (22 page)

“The Savage wins! The Savage wins!” declared the bartender to the cheers of the few souls who’d been foolish enough to bet against the general. The rest of the crowd stood in shock. The mercenaries employed by Vargas gave Bazur deadly looks as they decided if they should help Bazur into the next life.

The bartender, seeing the looks some of the mercenaries were shooting Bazur, reminded the crowd of the penalty for disobeying the house rules. “Make a move against the victor and you’ll be joining General Vargas,” warned the bartender.

Bazur ignored the mercenaries above. He had more pressing matters, like the deadly dagger stuck deep in his belly. Carefully, Bazur pulled out the evil looking dagger. Blood started to pour out of the wound. He pushed his hand against the wound, stopping the blood. Bazur looked up at the bartender. “I don’t suppose you have a bandage or three?”

The bartender lowered a ladder into the pit and then looked over his shoulder. “Ella, get your kit and get down there. It’s bad luck to let both fighters die.” He then turned and looked down at Bazur. “Ella, our serving girl, is pretty handy with wounds. She fixes up all the fighters that only fight to first blood. She’ll fix you up best she can and perhaps you might live yet.”

Ella, the serving girl and part time healer, made her way into the pit bringing with her a small basket. She gave Bazur a quick examination. “The little wounds aren’t serious but I’m afraid I can’t do much for that last stab wound. It is beyond my skill level.”

An idea came to Bazur. It was something that the healer, Marcus, had said. Perhaps there was a chance he might live after all. “In the pouch at my hip is a little package of salve. Put it into the wound and then wrap my wound up,” said Bazur.

“Put salve in the wound? That is the stupidest thing I’ve heard of. You trying to die, mister?” asked a perplexed Ella.

“Humor me,” said Bazur with a grunt of pain.

Ella found the salve and pushed all of it into the stab wound. She then placed a piece of gauze against the wound and then wrapped Bazur’s torso in thick cotton bandage. She then cleaned and stitched the smaller cuts to his arm and leg. “That’s all I can do for you, mister.”

“My thanks, Young Lady,” said Bazur. Could I bother you for one last favor? Would you place my weapons back in their harness?”

Ella grabbed his scythe and sword and placed them where requested. She then walked up to Vargas, placed a foot on his back and yanked the dagger out of his side. She wiped the dagger clean on Vargas’ shirt and then spit on his corpse. She then handed Bazur the dagger and gave him a hand up the ladder.

“You weren’t a fan of General Vargas.”

“Mister, you could say that. Besides spilling drinks and fixing up the odd lad’s wounds, I also tend to the inns patron’s other wants and desires. What Vargas desired was to inflict pain. I’m glad he’s dead.” Ella lifted her head high. “If a normal man tried that with me, I’d cut his jewels off, but that damn Vargas, he was like a snake. I was too terrified of him to say anything or do anything about it. I’ll be forever grateful that you killed that bastard.”

“There is one thing you could do for me, Ella,” said Bazur.

“Anything you want. And I do mean anything.”

Bazur grinned through the pain. “I haven’t the energy for that sort of help. It would definitely be the death of me. No, what I would like is for you to pick three of the mercenaries here. I want the three most honest ones you can think of that won’t hate me because Vargas is dead. I need you to hire them for me.”

“The Moga brothers,” said Ella instantly. Three reasonably respectable mercenaries, they won’t steal from a client like some of this lot and they weren’t fond of Vargas. They avoided his jobs. Thought he was too bloody. I’ll go fetch them straight away.”

“If they agree, have one of them go rent a wagon and horses, we’ll be leaving right away.”

As Ella hurried off to find the Moga brothers, the bartender came up to Bazur. “Your winnings. I’d be careful. You’re safe as long as you are here, but once you leave the Empress and Southend, you are no longer our guest and are fair game.”

“Understood. I’ve made arrangements.”

“I wish you luck. I have to say, I’m somewhat relieved that it was you and not General Vargas who survived. We knew Vargas was up to something shady when he first arrived here and started hiring every mercenary and bandit he could. When we found out that he was targeting Prince Valentine… well, we knew there would be repercussions. The Empress doesn’t involve itself in the affairs of any of the kingdoms that surround us, and we certainly don’t condone the actions of anyone who stays here at the Empress. We provide entertainment and housing for weary guests, no matter their background.”

Bazur nodded. “I will see to it that Prince Astor understands that you weren’t part of Vargas’s operations.”

“Much appreciated.”

Two burly men then walked up. “We’re the Moga brothers. I’m Jared and this is Carter.”

“I’ll leave you to it. Thank you for conveying your thoughts to the prince,” said the bartender as he went back to check on his underlings.

“Gentlemen, did Ella explain the situation?”

“Sure. We’re to get you back to Draisha in one piece. She insisted on it. Made us swear we’d do our best. She even threatened to never speak to Tomas again. He’s in love with her and she’s been putting him off. Tomas is eagerly tracking a wagon down as we speak.” Carter eyed Bazur’s heavily bandaged stomach. “She better not blame us if you die from your knife wound. We can protect you from this lot, but nothing we can do about existing wounds. The general got you pretty good. You’re pale as a ghost.”

“I feel as good as I look. I promise to do my best not to die before we get to Draisha.”

“That’s good enough for me,” said Jared. “But some coin up front will be required. No offense.”

“None taken.” Bazur reached into his winnings and pulled out a dozen gold coins. “Is this enough coin up front to convince you to take the job?”

“It will do,” said Carter with a wink as he accepted the coins. “Thank the gods Tomas is tracking down a wagon. He would’ve tried convincing us to do it out of the goodness of our hearts. Common decency a sense of fair play and all that muck.”

“Ha,” scoffed Jared. “It’s not his heart leading the way. Ella is the best piece between Draisha and the coast.”

Carter sighed. “My brother, the cynic. Ella is a sweet girl and Tomas does love her. That she can do things with her tongue that make a man feel like he is walking amongst the gods is beside the point.”

“I heard that!” said Ella as she came up behind the Moga brothers. “And you are wrong, Carter. Jared here is not a cynic, he is just jealous that I don’t charge Tomas.”

“It’s not fair,” declared Jared. “Tomas is a little bucktooth string bean, the runt of the litter. Why does he get it for free when I, the handsome one, has to pay?”

Ella wrinkled her nose. “Because he’s sweet and innocent, reads me poetry, and is hung like Mathew Brown’s prized stud mule. You just be thankful I haven’t cut you off altogether. One of these days I am going to accept one of Tomas’s marriage proposals and we will be family. It wouldn’t be decent for me to keep shagging you lot. I mean, if you were cousins, it might be different, but brothers? Well, that is just wrong.”

“Damn it, woman,” swore Jared while Carter and Ella laughed.

Bazur smiled. He wanted to laugh but feared what it would do to his insides. Putting the magic salve in his wounds was risky. Marcus had hinted that it might help internal injuries, but would it be enough. Bazur had seen many men die of stab wounds to the belly. Some lasted minutes, others lasted days. He felt weak, far weaker than he would dare to admit. It would be strange to rely on others, but if he were to make it to Draisha alive, he would need help. He wasn’t strong enough to fight off anyone at the moment, and even if the magical salve worked, it wouldn’t help in time. His life was in the hands of the gods, and Marcus’s magic salve. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to rely on the gods. Bazur had seen them fail even the most devoted time and again. “Shall we depart before any of the general’s friends decide they would like revenge for losing their employer.” Bazur turned to Ella. “Thank you for your assistance. I shall have Tomas and these two back to you as soon as possible.”

“No hurry. In fact, you can keep those two. They are lousy tippers, hardly make it worth a girl’s time,” said Ella with a wink before heading back to work.

“I do believe we’ve been dismissed,” said Carter with a chuckle. “Come on, let’s get moving. Can you fake healthy until we get outside? It wouldn’t be good for this lot to see you looking too weak when you walk out. It would be like bleeding in the ocean, someone will bite you just because they can.”

Bazur knew Carter was right, so he stood taller and forced a loud laugh. “Show me this horse. I have to see for myself.” Bazur then strode out of the bar. Several of the patrons took long glances at him as he walked out, but none rose to follow them outside. When they left the inn, they found Tomas outside the bar with a wagon and a couple of saddled horses.

“I hope this is all right. I thought you would prefer lying down in the back of a wagon versus sitting in a carriage.”

Carter and Jared helped Bazur into the back of the wagon. Faking a laugh and walking through the bar like he was fine had taken almost all the energy he had left. “The wagon was a wise decision. If you gentlemen don’t mind, I’m going to take a quick nap.”

As Carter and Jared mounted their horses, Jared looked at his brother. “I’ll bet you two silver pieces he doesn’t make it to morning.”

“I’ll take that bet. Did you not see what he did to General Vargas? He had no business winning that contest. Vargas was the superior swordsman. But Bazur beat him anyways. Men with that kind of determination live through things other men cannot. Remember Uncle Theron after the raid on Rivercrest?”

Jared chuckled. “Six arrows, he lost a lung, a testicle, and his left arm was useless after that. But man, that was one tough old goat. Maybe you are right. We’ll know soon enough.”

…

Bazur woke with a dry mouth. His head was throbbing and he felt weak. Yet he felt nowhere near as weak and helpless as he had felt when they helped load him into the wagon. Looking around he could see that the wagon was stopped under a tree, giving him some welcome shade.

“You’re awake,” said Carter. “We were starting to wonder if you ever would. You broke a fever that first night and have been unconscious since.” Carter handed Bazur a canteen. “Drink.”

Gratefully taking the canteen, Bazur gulped down the precious water. The cool liquid quenched the fire in his throat and relieved the irritation in his mouth. “Where are we?”

“Almost to Draisha. This is the last bit of forest so we pulled over and made some lunch while we let the horses rest.”

Bazur frowned
, almost to Draisha? He must’ve been out for at least a day and a half
. “Any problems?”

“No,” said Carter. “Jared and I had to have a friendly chat with a few of the lads from Southend. They decided to follow us, but they had a change of heart. We spent a day at the Gould farmer. We were afraid to move you, and Vera Gould cleaned up your wounds and re-bandaged you. They were sweat soaked from your fever.”

“Just how long was I out?” asked Bazur.

“Well, the fight took place in the early evening and it’s about mid-day now, so three and a half days.”

Three and a half days?
thought Bazur. At least he was alive, and now that he had some water in him again, he actually didn’t feel that bad. Weak, but the pain from his belly was a lack of food, not from his wound. “You said something about food.”

“Trevor, bring some of that pheasant here.”

Trevor walked up to the wagon and saw that Bazur was awake. He handed Bazur a few pieces of meat. “Shit.”  He then went into his coin purse and placed three coins in Carter’s hands. “I thought for sure you were a goner when your fever broke.”

“It seems I am lucky.”

“Luck my eye,” said Trevor. “Whatever salve you had Ella put in the wound did the trick. “Vera Gould said it was amazing. She could watch your body healing itself. The rest of your wounds have been healing naturally on their own damn time, but your stab wound is almost completely healed, and it was nasty looking when we first cleaned the bandage, all purple and swollen. I’m sure you had some internal bleeding as well, but now I can barely see the wound.”

Bazur nodded. He’d forgotten about that. “Yes, it seems to have done the trick.”

“You can say that again. It is a miracle you are alive. I’ve seen some wounds like that before. Most die, none heal like you did.”

Bazur looked at Trevor, the man was truly impressed by how Bazur had healed and didn’t seem suspicious of the salves true nature. He only seemed to care how well it had worked. Perhaps it would be okay to admit its true nature. “It was a magical salve. The prince’s healer gave it to me. He thought I might do something foolish and get hurt.”

“Magical salves?” said Trevor. “We’ve been hearing rumors about such things. I suppose magic has its place, if it can help healing like that.”

“Certainly makes the thought of magic users in Draisha more bearable. Everyone thinks he is bringing in mages and witches to help him expand the kingdom. The villages around Southend don’t mind doing business with Draisha, but we don’t want to lose our independence.”