Responsibility Ch. 03

The medic was a gruff man but there was no evidence of sadism in him. He'd been monitoring an assistant when Rahela was brought to him. The assistant had been removing an ungodly cyst from a man's shoulder. Rahela had to look away from the scene.

She sat on a scarred stool and placed the back of her hand on top of the medic's gentle palm. He turned her hand one way and then another. His face was grim.

"There's some swelling," he said.

Rahela couldn't deny it.

Behind her, Yana stood and whimpered into her sleeve. She didn't seem to love atmosphere.

"If your description was accurate," the medic said as he searched a case for something, "then that snake might've been venomous. You could have a headache, a fever, numbness, even convulsions. Your heart could turn wild. Your breath could fail you. You might vomit or have the worst diarrhea of your life." He picked up a pack of large pieces of gauze. "You could have an insane thirst. Your eyes might blur. The most unfortunate outcome, however, would be an excruciating death."

Rahela said with a dry tone, "Yana might've learned well from you."

Actually, Yana didn't seem to be paying any attention. She was looking up at the cloudy sky and humming to herself as if she wanted to comfort her distressed mind.

"This is going to be painful," the medic said as he held gauze around the bite. "I'm going to try to press as much venom out as I can."

"I understand," Rahela said.

It really did hurt. Rahela made the tiniest, shortest little bleats, hiding her mouth with her free wrist. During this process, the Emperor and one of his squires approached. They stood an almost respectful distance away. The Emperor's eyes landed on Rahela's for a little moment. He vaguely looked like he had a pebble in his mouth and his tongue was rolling and tossing it around his teeth. That's how odd his expression was to her.

"How damaged is she?" the Emperor said as he looked over to the medic.

"If we assume Her Highness was bitten by a venomous snake," the medic said, "then she's likely to have symptoms that would cripple your finest soldier. We shouldn't leave the site right now. Her Highness needs to be properly monitored for a day. She can't safely travel."

The Emperor nodded. "We can wait several days. There's no harm in using only one."

Oksana appeared then. She'd been with one of the other assistants to the medic. Rahela saw that there was most certainly not a pack of herbs held to her cheek, as that girl had claimed she'd get. Apparently, that maid-in-waiting had been told that nobody cared if Princess Rahela had smacked her in the face. If she didn't want to be smacked, she needed to behave well. That was most people's logic.

With shameful, low eyes, Oksana took a spot near the uneasy Yana. The two maids-in-waiting kept standing as Rahela had her hand tended to.

The Emperor asked the medic, "Has the princess shown any of the more drastic symptoms?"

"Not yet," the medic said as he rinsed the wound with water. "I'm surprised, but we need to be cautious."

"It possible that the snake wasn't as deadly as once thought," the Emperor said.

Picking up a jar, the medic said, "That's a rightful hope." He removed the lid. There was honey inside. "It's possible that Her Highness happens to have fine luck, and her body isn't reacting as poorly to the venom."

One of his shoulders jerking up, the Emperor frowned and said, "That's not impossible. Quite a few men have found themselves untroubled by bites that have killed others."

Spreading a little honey on the bite, the medic explained, "All we can do is wait the full day. If she remains untroubled, then we should leave." He put the jar aside and snugly wrapped long bandages around Rahela's hand. "Now, all I've noticed is some minor swelling."

Turning his head towards the maids-in-waiting, the Emperor seemed to inhale, then give a very slow exhale, and he told the girls, "Once your Mistress is released from the medic's care, escort her to her tent and monitor her well."

The girls bowed to him as he left with his squire.

***

Rahela didn't stay inside the tent. The girls set up a stool and a little table for her just outside the tent's main entrance so she could enjoy the weather. After all, these could be her final hours. Why shouldn't she enjoy what she could?

The maids-in-waiting sat on their own little stools and worked on small embroidery samplers to pass the time, always looking up at the princess every few moments or so. Rahela still felt significant tenderness in her bandaged hand, but she was able to handle an old scroll of hers. The text had been written by a Testoan scholar; it was about poisons, toxins, venom, and the like.

The next few hours were very peaceful.

In fact, the rest of the day, and even the night, were all peaceful.

On the next morning, the medic examined Rahela's wound. She was feeling very well, no dangerous signs, but the wound still needed to be checked on. The medic announced that the honey had been a fine idea. There wasn't any sign of infection. Then he rinsed the wound again, applied more honey, and put a fresh bandage on the hand.

Finally, it was time for the troop to head for Kaizul.

It was a much less peaceful time than before.

Everyone was moving in and out of tents, carrying something. Well, except for Rahela. She tried to pick up a reasonably light chest but a man swooped in, refusing to let her risk any more harm. Some men even made sure the maids-in-waiting didn't have to carry anything that was "too burdensome for their youthful figures." That was how one fairly young soldier phrased it.

Rahela found that she had extra time to comb her hair if she wanted, not that she hadn't had the time earlier in the morning. Regardless, she stood behind the carriage she was meant to eventually climb into and combed her hair out. The men had been warned not to peek behind the carriage at all. A maiden's hair was beautiful indeed. It was a tiny bit rude for a man to sneak up on a maiden while she was combing it, and since Rahela was of a high status that made the concept more insulting.

When it was almost time to go, the maids-in-waiting styled Rahela's hair. It was divided into two even sections. Her favorite white ribbons were wrapped around the sections. They weren't even plaits, not technically.

Then, it was time to go.

This journey was shorter than the last one, and they had lovely grass and flowers to freshen the air. When the troop was finally at the rather short border wall to Kaizul, that was when there was some real form of excitement. The women curiously peered out the windows at one of the Kaizul border guards that walked around to give the troop a vague examination, if it could be called that. At the most, Rahela believed he glanced at a lot of people and things as quickly as possible.

Throught the gate, and then through a farming village, the troop went on. Rahela saw several ordinary but pleasant things. People tilling soil, sometimes with the help of an ox or a donkey. Other people scattering seeds. Pigs and a few cows grazing and rooting. The buildings were ordinary too. If there were any peculiar details, they couldn't be noticed.

A break had to be taken when they were at a larger town. They all stopped at a place with plenty of inns, although they weren't going to sleep. They had to eat, find reasonably private places to crouch (or stand with some clothing untied and pushed away, as men often did) and then get back to traveling.

They settled down at a big city, where a storm god's temple and inn were located. There were more inns, obviously, but Rahela was told she'd be staying in the one financially attached to the temple.

Rahela and her maids-in-waiting were put into a charming room, or as charming as an inn's room could be. The floor was wooden. There was a single bed; the two pallets laid out for the girls were very thick, and all three sleeping areas had two soft pillows. There was a single window with a sliding shutter that gave one a view of multiple, often tightly packed buildings, ancient roads that had been paved over time, some dirt pathways, and of course the busy people going about their lives.

Happy to be out of the noisy, stuffy carriage, the women stretched their bodies, walking around the room and lazily playing with their hair. Not even Rahela could ignore such a simple, pleasing activity. The muscles in their backs and legs reveled in the movements. Even their hands and arms felt wonderful. Their scalps happily tingled when fingernails scratched about. Their bouncing, unbound hair even felt lighter and smoother now that they weren't in the carriage.

There were a lot of birds around, not in the room itself, but in the city itself. The maidens could hear them.

The freedom couldn't last very long. Knocks were put on the door, and the voice of the Emperor's page came through. "Your Highness? His Majesty has Kaizul styled clothing for you. He's asked that when we go into society we shouldn't make our identities obvious."

"His Majesty isn't old, but he is wise," Rahela said towards the door. "Once we've tied out hair away I'll have you enter with the clothing."

They were very pleasant examples of Kaizul clothing.

The maids-in-waiting were given matching green gowns with long sleeves that were just loose enough to give someone a glance of a bare wrist. The necklines were high but the collars had a thin border of white braiding. Matching, hooded, gray cloaks were also given to them, just in case the weather ever turned cool. As for their hairstyles, a typical maiden in Kaizul didn't wear a headdress. The girls had to put their Yahsin headdresses aside.

Rahela had a pale pink gown. The sleeves, hem, and collar all had wide borders of layered gray ribbons, seeming to form subtle stripes within those borders. Her hooded cloak was a light blue color. Rahela had been told she was meant to pretend to be a married woman, and so, her hair was to be braided away and hidden by a white headscarf, which had to be wrapped and pinned around her neck and head. When the fabric was in place, only Rahela's face was exposed. Her collar's pretty border was partially hidden.

Both women made sure to put simple belts around their waists and hook their pouches and beloved tools to them. They couldn't be sure that they wouldn't need a needle or even a blade.

The page asked them to meet the Emperor down to the inn's dining room, which was the first level of the building. He dutifully escorted the maidens down there, where they found the Emperor and his two squires.

They looked fairly normal, perhaps a little wealthy but not flashy. The squires weren't wearing their capes with emblems. The Emperor had a dark blue tunic that was similar in style to the maidens' gowns, honestly, except for the casual, shorter length. His cloak was a simple but dark brown. He even had a neat cap of matching brown on top of his head; his hair seemed to be tied up in that cap. It looked warm and cozy.

He didn't have a sword at his belt. His swords were likely ridiculously expensive, and while nobody would be angry at him for having one (even the lowest classes would carry the biggest knives they could on their person), it might be a good reason to stare. Instead of a sword, he had two long daggers safely kept in simple yet robust sheaths.

Rahela and the girls all bowed to the Emperor, who smirked, seeming to fold one of his scars. Then he confidently said, "The birds in this country have splendid songs, don't they?" He caught Rahela's flinching eyes, and then he tilted his head towards a cage that was near a table of men eating what were likely pork pies. In the cage, a few common but darling birds were chirping.

The maids-in-waiting might've been clueless to the almost cruel teasing the Emperor was engaging in. They only smiled at the birds as any other light hearted maiden might do. Rahela knew all too well that the birds reminded the Emperor of something unpleasant that Rahela was responsible for, and she wasn't about to speak of it. She put her fingers over her lips and looked down to the creaky, wooden floor.

There wasn't a long silence to ache over. The Emperor gestured towards the exit door and said, "Let's explore the place."

As soon the the group started walking, several men got up from their tables to follow. Rahela had seen most of their faces before.

This little group was certainly meant to be watched carefully.

First, the group went over to the temple that owned the inn. The two buildings were practically connected, although the inn was visibly different. The temple was made of pale yellow stones and had high ceilings. The windows were thin, but they had expensive, stained glass panes, delicate images of what seemed to be scenes involving the peoples' storm god. He was apparently a slender, pale man that played a bagpipe or a drum, depending on the situation.

At an altar with a gray statue of that slender god, the Emperor knelt down and put an offering into a tray. Rahela knew the Emperor had sent presents to the temple beforehand, but here he was expressing a more standard type of offering. It was a little pie full of beef and vegetables wrapped up in waxed linen.

He stayed in his kneeling position for a moment, lacing his straight and upright fingers, his blunt nails pointed to the ceiling. Lip service or piety, Rahela couldn't be sure, but his eyes were quite serious.

Rahela hadn't been told to make an offering to the god, and as far as she knew there was no obligation. Nonetheless, Rahela walked up to the altar and fished into the pouch hooked on her belt. She was able to take out a small, Testoan coin of silver. Even if no merchants would accept the coin as currency, the silver material was still worth something. It could always be melted down for something.

No words at all, Rahela put her coin next to the pie and knelt down right at the Emperor's left. She imitated his praying gesture and waited for him to decide when it was time to stop praying ... or stop pretending to pray. She happened to see a priest quietly pass by. He had a significant belly. Rahela assumed he hadn't skipped a meal in a long time. When she looked back to the pie the Emperor had placed down, she thought she understood the reason.

The Emperor seemed to need only a few seconds, because he got up soon, and Rahela copied him again, keeping her skirt in a decent state.

The brief scene had no explanations, not even a question.

The extra men tried to act as if they weren't following the group, taking various places behind and ahead on all sides, wanting to blend in with the city's residents. Rahela wanted to say to herself that they were doing a good job, but it she couldn't have felt more watched if she was naked.

However, that wasn't what made her eyelids flicker and her lips purse. That wasn't what made her put her free hand over her mouth and look everywhere but at the Emperor's profile.

For convenience's sake, they were pretending to be a married couple.

That meant the Emperor's bare hand was holding hers.

His bare hand.

This was different from when Rahela had sworn herself to him. He had gauntlets on, and besides the context would've made skin to skin contact forgivable.

She'd been raised as a high status girl, and once she became a queen the standards were tightened. It wasn't proper to hold naked hands with a man she wasn't related to, nor married to. Not for her. A commoner woman was usually told differently, but not Rahela.

Her bandage did nothing to make it any less scandalous in her mind.

She wondered if her face was pink.

Different scents were in the atmosphere. Dirt and rocks, bricks and wood, along with all the various people and animals. In Rahela's mind, the most dynamic scent was from the tall man whose fingers were between hers. It was a combination of linen, natural body odor, and something that had to be a perfume. She couldn't place whatever was in the perfume. It was abnormally sweet. She didn't think she had a frame of reference for it.

Still being "secretly but so not secretly" watched by the men, the group stopped by a bakery to get some rolls to chew on. The bakery owned the bathhouse right next to it, which made sense. Water would have to be heated by efficient ovens, and bakeries often had the best ones. The Emperor was the one to purchase the rolls. He had what seemed to be acceptable currency.

As they munched on the bread, they passed a few things, sometimes even made some comments. The squires and maids-in-waiting were the most vocal. Most windows were open because the weather was pleasant. Through one window of an apothecary's shop, they saw and heard two people in a shouting argument. In another building, they saw some coopers making barrels and casks out of staves. A woman with a basket full of flowers stood near a tailor's shop, trying to sell the pretty things.

When they were just reaching a butcher's shop, the group had finished eating their rolls. On the other side of the street, across from the butcher's shop, there was a another little shop selling meat pies. Ahead of these buildings, there was a large circle of stone pavement with buildings surround it, and temporary looking stalls on the pavement.

That must've been a more easily changed variety of a marketplace. It was very lively. Street performers. People guiding livestock off to be sold somewhere, not necessarily a butcher's shop. Fishmongers dealing with hungry cats that tried to sneak away fresh specimens. Produce of varying kinds put even more color to the scene.

It was so loud and practically crammed!

One person carrying a bundle of wooden planks nearly smacked a child on the back of his head. It seemed to have been an accidental move.

The Emperor told everyone to turn around. It was too dangerous to play there.

It was best to avoid such places. They weren't ordinary tourists.

When the group was back at the inn, it was getting dark. The maidens went upstairs to their room and lit some candles, but Rahela heard the maids whisper to each other how they would've loved to visit the bathhouse. A hot soak with delicious food instead of a traditional dinner would've been delightful, or that's what they'd agreed on.

Rahela didn't hate baths. She'd just ... never been in a bathhouse before. She'd always bathed in a private area.

Sighing and tilting her head up a little, closing her eyes, Rahela tried not to listen to the girls go on and on about how much they loved bathhouses, and how they hadn't been in one in a long time.

Rahela clapped her hands together and quietly announced that she'd love to go to a bathhouse.

She led the girls out of the room, down a hallway, and to the room the Emperor and his attendants stayed in. After Oksana excitedly knocked on the door, the little redhead page answered.

"Her Highness wants to soothe her beautiful skin at the bathhouse," Oksana said. "Tell His Majesty, or the General, so that we can have our protection."

With a shrug, the page said, "His Majesty also wants to go to the bathhouse. He's having his hair washed now. Please prepare in your room, and return when you're ready."

"How timely! Thank you!" Oksana turned to look up at Yana as the door was closed. "We should wash Her Highness' hair, then tend to ours."

Back in their room, the maids-in-waiting unwrapped and freed Rahela's hair. They complimented her, as they often did. Rahela knew better than to believe any sweet words they offered. When she told Yana to find her lump of soap, which was in a little box in a chest, the tall girl nodded and went to find the thing. Oksana left the room to ask one of the inn's employees for more water.