Lychaon's Curse Ch. 02

"What else am I supposed to think? There wasn't any sign of the people she claims were there. All we have to go on is what we found and what I remember." He said to Killian, who passed on the message. The woman raised her head and pinned him with a withering stare as she replied.

"She says we could have knocked on the front door and asked to talk. I mean, she is right there I suppose." Marrok ran his hands through his hair.

"So this was a waste of time. How are we going to find a group of unidentified attackers with no trail to track them?" His brother shrugged.

"I don't know brother, but she seems to be at her limit. Do you want to take her with us or let her go?" Marrok considered both options, watching her as she watched them. Her eyes were glazed and she was shaking, her breath coming in little pants of fear. Taking her with them would probably be the surest way to get as much information possible, but could also attract more humans to their presence, which he was loath to do. But leaving her here gave her an opportunity to flee.

Natalie's eyes darted back and forth between the two brothers as they talked, wishing for all the world that she could understand what they were saying. Marrok studied her for a long moment, and Natalie shrunk under the weight of those sulfuric eyes as they regarded her. Then he sighed and ran a hand over his face before signing something back to his brother, who nodded and rose from his chair.

A fresh wave of panic crashed over her as she was lifted and slung over the brother's shoulder as he carried her to the pantry. A thousand images of what could be about to happen sped through her mind. Was she about to be raped? Abducted? Murdered? The brother opened the pantry door with his foot while she screamed and squirmed, trying to dislodge herself from his shoulder. Then he heaved her to the floor and pulled out a knife, which he stuck in the wood of the door frame. Natalie screamed again and tried to back away, only to have a strong hand clapped over her mouth.

"Calm down," the brother hissed as he used a spare hand to dig in a pouch at his waist. A moment later he produced a wad of cloth and gagged her with it. Wide-eyed she watched another exchange between her captors until the brother approached her again.

"This is what's going to happen. We are leaving for now. You will stay here and be quiet until you count to 500 and back. Then you can use the knife to cut yourself loose. Understand?" She nodded frantically. Then they stood and left her in the pantry with a single candle to ward off the darkness. She took several calming breaths before she started to count.

After what felt like ages she struggled to her knees and crawled to where the knife was lodged into the door jamb. She sawed at the ropes on her wrist until they gave way, nicking herself in the wrist. She ignored the sting as she grabbed the handle of the knife and yanked it out of the woodwork. Sitting on the floor with a thump. Then her hands started to get their blood flow back, so she massaged them for a moment while she spit out the gag. Then she cut her feet loose, this time with a little more care.

This done Natalie tried to stand, only to have her leg almost crumple beneath her. Using the shelving as support she limped out of the pantry and back to the table. She looked down at her dress and winced; the bottom half of her overgown had been destroyed. What wasn't torn was bloody and dirty. With a deep breath, Natalie peeled back the underskirts to look at the bite the wolf had given her.

They had wrapped it and stopped the bleeding, but her calf was mangled. The front of her leg was mostly scrapes and gouges, but the back of her calf had several deep cuts, including one in the back of her calf that was severe and still bleeding. She took several deep breaths, before grabbing one of the remaining clay jars, which was filled with a pain remedy. This wouldn't be the first time Natalie had patched herself up or even the worst- but she wouldn't be able to stitch herself up if she passed out from the pain. As she waited for the medicine to kick in she thought over the encounter with the brothers.

On one hand, they had tied her up and terrorized her, and she was likely to have permanent issues from her leg just looking at where the worst damage was. On the other hand, she was grateful not to be dead. Despite the rough handling, the two had only wanted information, when they could have easily killed her just based on the assumption. Still, being grateful that a mangled leg was the only thing that happened to her left a bad taste in her mouth.

She recalled the last words the one who had done the translating had said "we're leaving for now" and for a moment the room felt like it was closing in on her.. Part of her wanted to pack her bags and flee to the city, but she had a suspicion that she'd never make it to the frontier town. Tears welled in her eyes as she felt the sensation of being trapped wash over her. You lose it for five seconds. Then you move on. She told herself.

It was something she had learned from her days on the street that had always served her well. For those moments she curled in on herself in the chair, shaking and crying. Then she took a steadying breath and pulled her hair back into a knot. Cautiously she probed her leg, noting that the pain wasn't as bad as it could be. Time to begin. She thought grimly.

First, she stood and, using the chair to hobble around she grabbed a pot from the ceiling rack, water from the barrel in the pantry, vinegar, and a bottle of wine. She then put the water and vinegar on the stove to warm and made a second trip to the pantry to grab honey, a mortar and pestle, and swatches of cheesecloth. Finally, she grabbed a few missing jars of medicine and a needle and thread from the bathroom. Sitting at the table she mixed some herbs from the jar- one that reduced swelling, another pain killer, one that warded off infection, and one that drew blood to the area.

By then the pot was starting to boil so she hobbled back to the stove and turned it off before pouring the mix into two separate bowls and adding a little of the wine. Then, one at a time she carried the bowls and wine back to the table. Natalie tried to clear her mind and focus on one task at a time as she threaded the needle and dropped the thread into one of the bowls. Taking a gulp of wine She then pulled her skirts as far away from her leg as possible before grabbing the second bowl and pouring it over her calf. A searing, intense pain ripped through her even with the pain medicine in her system.

For several moments Natalie reeled; the pain of the hot liquid was worse than the initial bite. She leaned back in her chair and focused on breathing until the pain subsided to a tolerable level again. Then she carefully fished the needle and thread from the other bowl. Sewing the wounds closed was slow and agonizing work. Several times Natalie had to stop just to catch her breath. By the time she was done each exhale was accompanied by a low keen of pain.

Finally, she mixed the herbs into the honey and applied a thick coating to her entire calf, before binding it, first with the cheesecloth and then with the cleanest parts of her ruined dress. Her hands were shaking and colors danced in front of her eyes as she slumped deeper into the chair. Dimly she remembered that she never finished settling Nimrod, but pain and exhaustion swept over her and she fell asleep where she sat.

The next few days passed in a haze for Natalie. Despite her efforts to keep her wound closed and clean it was getting worse. Caring for the ranch had her moving for long periods- caring for saddle sore on Nimrod after being left unattended for a day was stressful enough to pop the stitches on the largest wound. On top of that, she consistently found dirt under the bandages after her chores, and she was running out of herbs to use as medicine. Her original plan had been to avoid a trip to town but that morning she noticed a sickly sweet odor when she changed the bandages. When she had probed her leg it felt hot to the touch and a wound had begun to leak pus.

So now she was riding home from the frontier, sitting side-saddle and clutching the saddle horn, trying not to pass out from the pain. So intense was her pain that the first time she saw the wolf she assumed it was a hallucination and rode Nimrod right past where it sat on the road. It wasn't until she saw Nimrod glance over his shoulder and whicker nervously that she realized it wasn't a trick of the mind. Natalie whipped her head around to look for herself. There, sticking to the growing shadows under the cacti, was the black wolf; Marrok.

Fear cleared all of the fog from her mind as she turned back around. She pulled a lever attached to Nimrod's steam leg, increasing the speed at which it moved. The smoke trailing from its little chimney increased its volume as Nimrod surged forward; more than happy to keep pace. Still, the leg was only meant for walking, and at the moment Natalie felt like they were crawling.

Natalie snuck another peek over her shoulder. Now that the frontier town was out of sight Marrok had moved into the road and was calmly trotting after them. The boldness sparked anger in her as she turned back around. Much of the slow race back to the ranch was spent scolding herself for not trying to stay at the Inn in town until Nathan got back. Now I can't even change my mind and turn back.

Just then the ranch came into view. As they approached Natalie decided to dismount as soon as she got past the fence and try to make it to the shotgun she had left by the door. This time she wasn't going to stare down the wolf with a pea shooter. She considered trying to make it up the stairs to turn the security fence on- but she could barely walk and didn't want to be trapped inside the barrier with a large angry wolf. Besides, Nimrod would probably walk right into it.

Just past the gate she pushed the lever back to its primary position and pushed herself from the saddle. When her feet hit the ground her leg buckled underneath her and she landed heavily, her eyes flashing with white sparkles as she caught her breath. Not having more time than that she pushed herself up and forced herself to stumble across the lawn and climb the stairs. Natalie flung the door open and grabbed the shotgun from where it leaned against the wall, not even needing to step over the threshold.

As she spun around she tucked the stock of the weapon into her shoulder and looked down the barrel. Where there had been a wolf was a man, tying his trousers and eyeing Nimrod as suspiciously as Nimrod was eyeing him. Then he looked up at her and froze. They stayed like that for a long moment, before Natalie felt another wave of pain and leaned against the door. Marrok took a step in her direction, stopping with his foot still hovering above the ground as he heard the racking of the shotgun.

"Stay where you are!" She warned him. He slowly raised his hands and took another step. Natalie backed into the doorway; telling herself to shoot before she lost the chance. However, what Marrok did next caught her off guard completely. Keeping his hands raised he turned away from her and laid on the ground, tilting his head back enough to see her. Hands now in the air above them he spread his fingers wide.

"What are you doing?" Natalie asked despite herself.

"Trying to not be... threatening?" Came the halting reply. Surprised, Natalie lowered the gun.

"You can talk?" She asked. He shrugged

"Killian taught me little since we last..." He trailed off, shrugging again. Natalie narrowed her eyes and aimed the shotgun again.

"Why? Why are you back?" He rolled onto his stomach at the challenge, pushing himself to his feet in a fluid motion before responding.

"You said I could have knocked on the door and asked for help? Help. You were right. Here I am." He pointed at her leg, "you need help too." He added, taking another step.

"Stay where you are! I'm not telling you a third time. And I do not need your help. I'm healing from your bite just fine." She was lying through her teeth. Of course, I need help, she thought bitterly; but she didn't want to accept it from him. However, he just crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow.

"You're a bad liar. You have been alone since we left and I can smell the rot from here."

"You've been watching me?"

"Pack lands now include this place. Every patrol has watched you." The idea made her even more uncomfortable. How could I have missed patrols of giant wolves? She wondered.

As her initial fear subsided the fog returned to her mind and her grip on the shotgun relaxed. Trying to fight the haze Natalie stepped back onto the porch.

"Well, I still don't want or need your help. I just got medicine for my leg. I've told you everything I know." Natalie swayed again, letting the gun drop to her side as she threw out an arm to steady herself. Just then her weight shifted to her bad leg and she crumpled, the mixture of pain and damaged muscles providing no support.

Natalie lay on the porch, ears ringing and the world spinning as pain and warmth spread over her. She closed her eyes against the afternoon sun and spinning ceiling, as she tried to sit up. However, a large hand pressed her shoulder back and she felt suddenly cooler as she was enveloped by a shadow.

"Don't try to move yet," Marrok said from somewhere above her. She shook her head and tried to stand.

"No, I can't just lay here; it's not safe and I have to take care of Nim," she mumbled as she tried to push the handoff of her shoulder.

"The horse?" She nodded.

"Can't leave him in the leg for too long or he'll fall over like me. He's too dumb to not put weight on it." Natalie heard a snort.

"Uh-huh. How do you do that?" Marrok asked. She shrugged and waved a hand in the air.

"There are a lot of steps. Hard to explain to someone who doesn't even know what a saddle is." She said. Then she felt the hand leave her shoulder. Natalie opened her eyes to see Marrok crouched over her, looking back towards the horse. Yellow eyes glanced back at her again before he shook his head.

"You can show me how?" He asked. She shook her head back.

"Can you show me how. Is how you say it. And I suppose I could, but I'd rather do it myself." She told him. He rolled his eyes and lifted her gently, shifting her weight to favor the bad leg. She continued to protest as he led the horse to the barn. Once there he set her on a hay bale and turned to face her.

"Now what?" He asked. Natalie huffed and pointed to the straps of leather dangling from the ceiling.

"You strap him into the harness. Once he's secure you take the leg off and store it in the tack room." Marrok nodded and turned to the horse, still eyeing him suspiciously. The process of getting the horse secure was difficult but with coaching, he had the horse dangling in the harness and was carrying the leg out of the stall.

"Where is the tack room?" He asked. Natalie pushed herself to her feet, winced, and led him to the room he had explored before, with the table covered in prongs and walls adorned with leather straps and harnesses. Natalie sat heavily on a stool next to the table and directed him to place the leg into the series of metal prongs.

"Now it should be cleaned but... I'm having a hard time thinking. Perhaps you should just give him food and water." She pointed to a sack by the door, "that's his feed. Water is in the well." When he left Natalie closed her eyes and leaned her head back, fighting the spinning feeling in her head. When Marrok came back she was almost asleep.

By the time she had come round again, he had carried her into the house and laid her on the kitchen table. Groggily she pushed herself up and looked at him as he knelt in front of her. "What are you doing?" She asked.

"Taking a look at your leg." He responded as he grabbed her ankle. With a squeak, Natalie pushed herself back further on to the table.

"I thought I already said I could handle that myself." He looked up and pinned her with a stare.

"Bites from my people sour in a way others do not. Your medicine is never going to fully heal your leg." He reached for her again, "I'm trying to help you," she bit her lip and looked away as she thought.

"Why are you trying to help me anyway?" She asked after a second. Marrok shrugged.

"Because I... did not think when I did this," he tapped her leg, "You don't... you didn't earn this I think. So I'm fixing it." Natalie looked back at him. His face still held a great deal of pain, but the anger had dissipated, replaced instead with a simple concern. Not breaking eye contact he slowly reached for her leg again and pulled it towards him. As he pushed the skirts up to her knees Natalie felt a blush creep up her neck.

Then his eyes dropped to regard the bad leg as his nose wrinkled. Gently he unwound the bandages, revealing the swollen, reddened flesh. The sickly sweet smell from the morning became much heavier in the room. Carefully he turned the leg back and forth, and when he probed the deepest wound Natalie saw stars. Marrok sounded underwater as he spoke.

"This needs burned out. Hey- hey, human," he lightly patted her cheek, "Can you hear me?" She waved his hand away.

"Natalie" she mumbled. Marrok tilted his head to the side.

"What?"

" My name isn't human, it's Natalie. And are you trying to say your answer to biting me is burning me?

"Yes,"

Natalie sighed and leaned back on the table. "You know, I'd like to like you, but you keep injuring me." She said wryly. She heard a small chuckle.

"I will try to fix that." He rose to his feet and Natalie was reminded of just how much larger he was. He was tall- head and shoulders above the largest men she knew, and was heavily muscled. It was intimidating, to say the least. But, he had a small smile on his face as he looked down at her.

"We should tie you." He said. She struggled up to lean on her elbows.

"Pardon me?" She saw his smile falter under her sudden suspicion and his hands came up in front of him.

"You will hurt if you fight it could cause more harm than good." He said after a moment. She let her head hang.

" Fine. How did you learn to talk so fast anyway?" He dug in the pouch at his waist as he answered.

"My brother spoke in both ways as he taught me. I lack words, but understand the basics." He pulled a length of rope from the bag. Carefully he sat her up. "You are also not the first of your kind I have met." He added. Natalie made a little noise of surprise as he looped the length of rope around her upper arms and torso.

"Oh, I suppose that makes sense- how did you know them?" She asked. He laid her back down, turning her so she was lengthwise on the table, before crouching and tossing the rope under the table. As he circled the table and grabbed the rope again he replied.

"She was a pair with my brother. " Natalie lifted her head to look at him.

"Really? Huh. Well, what happened?"

"She died." Natalie rested her head back on the table with a thump.

"Oh." Marrok tied the rope off, securing her to the table before going down to her good leg and also tying it to the table by the ankle. Then he glanced around the room, before grabbing some hand towels, which he placed in each palm. Then he reached into his pack and pulled out a small piece of wood and pressed it to her lips. She held it between her teeth, ready to clamp down.

From the pouch, he pulled a bone needle, flint, some tinder, and a bowl that looked like it had once been a skull. Then he pulled a knife from his pouch and laid it next to the other objects on the table. In the bowl he lit the tinder on fire, creating a small flame which he then laid the knife over, balancing its blade on the edge of the bowl. As it started to glow he gently turned her calf to expose the worst wound, the flesh having swollen around the thread used to sew it shut. He grabbed the needle and lanced the wound, while his other hand pinned her ankle to the table.