42 The aftermath, part 2
After the fight, Cael found himself bereft. Father had much to do, and little to say to Cael at the moment. The words that had to be spoken, though, stretched the silence thin and tense.
The hospital tent turned out to be an unexpected, but welcome, place of rest. The sights of wounded and dying was as distressing as the smell of herbs and wounds, but there was clean water for Cael to wash blood off himself a little, and some sense of purpose. There was Ginevra.
He put a shock collar on her—not the same Cael took off himself, but a very similar thing from Gianni's stash for war prisoners—and watched as the healer cut off her clothes and washed her wounds with a small water-summoning spell. There were many.
Besides the water spell, the healer didn't use any incantations. There weren't any healer mages in Oliveira lands at all. They were rarer than unicorns, their secrets kept tightly guarded and the services offered only to the most influential people.
Those field surgeons weren't them. They weren't full-fledged mages at all.
"Milordo," the healer called for Cael, pointing at Ginevra. Her front was clean, and Cael fought to not stare at her boobs—one unmarred with lacerations he placed on the woman's skin. "Would you kindly help me turn her on her stomach?"
'Of course'
Cael didn't know telekinesis spells strong enough for the haul, so he had to touch Ginevra. He kept it as brief as he could. The sensation of her skin awakened desires he shouldn't have been feeling. Not towards the enemy.
Then the healer washed off blood and grime from Ginevra's back, and Cael sucked in a breath. The healers mouth cracked open, but no sound left him.
There were plenty of wounds, though less than at the front. But they weren't the cause of the shock.
Ginevra's entire back was covered in long, knotted scars. Scars, the kind of which a whip would leave. They crisscrossed Ginevra's skin, some pale and almost faded, others redder and angrier. How fresh were they?
"Who could've left them?"
The healer finally caught his jaw, then shook his head. 'That's_ Not something I expected to see on the back of Nuvoloso's She-Devil. The freshest one of these marks seems to be only a few months old... Even less, if the lady used magic to heal it."
Cael's fists clenched at his sides. "Just ensure she'll live. This isn't the time to discuss Ginevra's history!
"Of course, Milordo! The healer hurried to the bandages and ointments. "But most of her bleeding had already stopped. She is remarkably tenacious"
"Most is not all"
Not to mention, there was no saying if Ginevra will catch a fever from any of her many wounds. The chances, in Cael's opinion, were unpleasantly high.
He didn't spare her life only for her to die on him later, after all.
'Still, who could've whipped her? Ginevra is her father's only daughter! A count's daughter! There's no lawful punishment for a noble that includes whipping'
The healer moved deftly. Soon, most of Ginevra's torso and parts of her legs were covered in bandages. The man declared that Ginevra was not yet well enough to be removed from the hospital tent, but should be more stable tomorrow—if a fever won't set in. She was far from returning to consciousness, too.
Cael nodded in understanding. "Can I help with anything else here?"
The healer looked at him with doubt. 'If you are sure, Milordo... This doesn't seem like the work quite of your caliber..." He withered under Cael's stare. "Ah. Water. Water is always welcome. If you know Summon Water..."
There was water to pour, things to move, lights to light and hold over surgeons and men to hold down. Plenty of work that paused only when Cael's father walked into the tent.
Though, "hobbled" would've been the better word. Gianni held a crutch in his hand, and each step took a visible effort from him. It made Cael's heart clench.
He dropped the half-full bucket of water he was filling and ran up to Gianni. "Father... I don't think you should be walking around"
Gianni pursed his lips. "I wanted to look at our most valuable prisoner. Where is she?'
Cael pointed at the hospital bed where she laid, with the most peaceful expression Cael had ever seen on her.
Father frowned, approaching the bed. 'Will she live? Why is she unbound?"
"The healer said she lost a lot of blood—she won't be able to even stand up in the next few days. Though, her prospects seem fine overall."
"It doesn't matter. Ginevra might end her life before we could, or force our hand!"
Cael flinched at the mental imagery this conjured. Ginevra slashing her throat to avoid torture... It was so far from an honest, open battle, and so sickening.
"Alright," he said, to placate both his father and himself. "Was... was that the only thing on your mind, Father?"
"No." He threw a sharp look at Cael. "Come. We will talk in a more private place."
The "more private place" was Gianni's personal tent. There, Cael's father sat down on a folding wooden chair, stretching out his leg with a breath of relief.
And then pinned Cael to the spot with his next words.
"Son... You were a hero today. Even though the war is no place for heroes. They go against their orders, die and bring others with them."
Cael took a breath and opened his mouth, ready to argue again, but Gianni kept speaking, his sharp eyes never leaving Cael's.
"You were also a devil today. The magic you used... Blood magic, wasn't it? I heard only mentions of it, rumors... What demon have you sold your soul for it? Tell me, Cael. Whatever this is, I need to know, so I can deal with it." He cringed. "Do my best to help you with this, at least. There are rumors already."
Cael closed his mouth, swallowed, and opened it again.
"I didn't sell my soul. But..."
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