Love and bandages

CHAPTER 1 “What do you think you’re doing? Conor will be here soon!” Fiadh shouted after Ciara as they walked the bush path. The thorns stabbed their way into their skin as they navigated. “I don’t know how many times I need to tell you this Fiadh, but those blood suckers are not getting a dime from me” Ciara replied, as she stops to kick off a caterpillar climbing her boots. Fiadh rolls her eyes and scoffs loudly “really? You think you can change history?” “Yes Fiadh, I can! These people keep milking us dry all because of a stupid pact we had nothing to do with. I can’t work hard for some stupid blood…” “He’s your king Ciara! The king!” Fiadh exclaimed, looking shocked. “King? Ha! What king puts his subjects through so much hardship and pain?. We have to suffer to make a living all for what? We pay 70 percent tax Fiadh! 70!” Ciara yells as she slams her foot on the floor “we’ll not anymore, I’m going to the camp to treat the same human warriors your king has abandoned. Like it’s our fault we’re humans” she muttered as she stomped off. …….. The war camp’s smell was a mixture of medicine, ethanol, roast beef and smoke. ‘Darra the herbalist’, as the people called him, was having a hard time attending to all the injured soldiers. Ciara’s father had died during the war and her mother died of cholera 7months after. Darra had been both father and mother to Ciara. She learnt how to make herbal medicines from Darra before studying medicine at the community hospital. No being could deny Ciara’s striking beauty. She was loved by the humans and envied by most vampire females. Her ocean blue eyes would wake butterflies in a man’s empty bowel. Her full lips vibrated deliciously whenever she spoke. Though she didn’t get to see a picture of her, people claimed she had a striking resemblance with her mother. Oval shaped face, long legs, hour glass figure, brown skin that shone under the sun, and a smile that could melt hearts away. “Father” Ciara called as she approached Darra, who was in a tent, attending to a soldier “how bad is it?” “It’s high time king Renfis stopped sending these men to fight for him. How does he expect human soldiers to fight faelings for the gods sake!” Darra said tiredly. His faded shirt was soaked with sweat, his hair was drenched and clung on his face. “You reek of herbs, Darra” Ciara scoffed jokingly “Well that’s what I get for this awesome gift of mine huh” he winks playfully at Ciara. “Come on, get some rest, I will take over from here” she helps him up from the stool he sat on. “I don’t plan on treating you to” she winks, smiling stylishly. Darra laughs loudly “You still haven’t upped your wink game yet, have you?” “At least I’ve got my stitching game intact” she replies, and turns to the injured soldier as she smiles at him “ okay Julian, it’s might hurt” …….. The tent flap is ripped aside with enough force to tear the canvas. Ciara doesn't look up from the soldier she was stitching. “If you are bleeding out, sit on the stool and wait. I’m almost done” she said, still focused on her stitching. “I’m neither bleeding nor waiting” the voice replied Ciara freezes, she turns to see a muscular man with pale ghostly skin, wearing leather suits and black armor. “Conor?” She said fearfully “you have no right to be here in this camp, in this realm, amongst us”. “The King has redefined rules this morning. It’s interesting you’re the center of attraction today, queen of bandages” Conor said mockingly. “I'm a medic! Hope you realize you're trespassing? Please leave”. “Medic” he scoffed mockingly “need I remind you that your men are currently facedown in the mud, you couldn’t save them all. Anyways, the King has a need for your particular talent”. “Well unfortunately, I don't treat vampires. I spend my days fixing what you lot break” Ciara replied, trying hard to keep her voice calm and fierce. Conor steps forward, his boots crunching on discarded bandages and syringes “This is not a request, Healer. You humans only won a border, you didn't win your lives. Which means we own you” he fixes his gaze directly on hers “You can come peacefully and walk through the palace gates, or I bundle you out. Either way, you’re coming with me”. Ciara shudders “The king’s court should have stronger healers, so why me?” Conor sighs impatiently “ look, the King's son is dying, and those stronger healers are too afraid of the King to tell him the truth. However, you have the smell of a woman who has nothing left to lose. That makes you either very brave or stupid. Both are required for what comes next” “But I….” Ciara stammers “I can’t help your kind…you….” Conor leans in and whispers to her ear “when you see what the King will do to this camp if you refuse, you'll pick up your bag” As Conor urges her to exit the tent, she turns back and looks at her unfinished patient “my patient!…he…” “He’ll be fine healer, it’s just a scratch” …….. The air in the King's private chamber smelled like expensive incense, lavender, mint and leather. King Renfis stood by the window, a silhouette of jagged edges and satin. When he turned, his eyes weren't the glowing crimson of the exaggerated hype, they were the color of a bruised sunset, weary and tired. "I was told you were the best," the King said, his voice was raspy and grate, like stone sliding over another stone. "They forgot to tell me you were a silly brat who still wears the stench of the trenches on her boots." Ciara wipes the smudge of dried blood from her cheeks “well, good day to you too your majesty” The king moved closer to her, Ciara could see a hint of tears in his eyes as he spoke "My son is dying," he whispered, the arrogant eyes flickering for a split second to reveal a raw, jagged desperation. "He has not taken a breath without screaming in three days. He has neither opened his eyes nor stopped convulsing. If you save him, I will grant your village three years of immunity from the blood-tithe." She looked him dead in the eye, her blue eyes flickering in the candle light "And if I fail?" The King's mask of the tyrant clicked back into place "Then you will find that the stories you of my cruelty were actually quite merciful compared to what I will do to the woman who let my legacy go cold." He gave a cold smirk revealing a golden fang. He stepped aside and gestured towards a heavy white oak door “pick your needles, little one, time is ticking”