《Of Men and Dragons, Book 1》Chapter 47
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By the time Jack made it to the cave entrance, Em'brel was waiting for him. A firm hug was followed by her giving him a quick head to toe examination. Em'brel's intense look of concern was utterly lost on Jack, who was half asleep on his feet and only aware of the world around him in the loosest definition of the words.
Em'brel helped Jack out of the harness and took over, dragging the sled the rest of the way into the cave. Once inside, Jack stumbled over to his room and collapsed on the bed. He didn't even get his head as far as the pillows. Em'brel unstrapped Ger'ron from the sled and dragged him over to the med bay. With some difficulty, she hefted him up onto the bed Angela directed her to, making sure he was situated correctly for whatever Angela had in mind.
One look at the man told Em'brel he faced certain death, or he would have if not for Angela and the ship. One of his feet was shriveled and blacked, and several toes had fallen off. The rotting flesh was peeling back from the remaining jutting bones that once held the toes in place.
The only movement that came from the old guard was his constant panting, which seemed to indicate he was overheating, despite the relatively cool room. His coloration was pale, and his skin clung to his bones in a way that suggested a combination of severe hunger and dehydration.
Em'brel looked over to Angela with concern. "Can you save him?"
Already many of the machines in the room were starting to obey whatever arcane commands Angela was silently giving them. The AI was wearing the long white coat she often wore in the med bay and looked as though she was intensely focused on the task. She was staring with one arm crossed over her body, holding up the other arm who's hand was resting on her chin with the knuckle of her index finger resting just beneath her lips. "Honestly, I don't know. I'm not sure how well an argu'n body can handle this level of stress. First of all, I have to amputate his foot. The shock of that procedure alone might kill him."
Angela took a deep sigh and continued. "On top of that, his body is wracked by several secondary infections caused by his exhausted immune system. Then there are all the other stresses of his body being too cold for too long and lacking proper nutrition and hydration. Honestly, it doesn't look good, but with everything we've got at our disposal here, and not a small amount of luck, he has a fighting chance."
Em'brel had only seen Angela this focused once before when she'd worked on Jack after he'd been run through. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Angela spared her a brief glance. "Thank you, but no. Not right now, anyway. If he survives through the surgery and initial recovery, you may have to reprise your role as a nursemaid for a while, but for now, you might as well look in on our brave idiot human. That journey probably took everything he had out of him, and then some."
Knowing the old warrior was in the care of the best healer on the planet, Em'brel left to check on Jack. Walking into the room and seeing him struggling to pull off his mud-splattered boots in a drunken sort of haze, Em'brel shook her head at the hapless male.
She walked over to him and started helping him out of the tangled mess he'd made of his clothing, ignoring his pathetic protests that he could manage it on his own. Before he'd recovered his motor functions, she'd helped him similarly plenty of times, and this hardly seemed like the time to suddenly become squeamish about such things.
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That done, Em'brel half carried the stumbling man over to the tub in his adjoining bathroom and helped him get adequately cleaned. The hardest part about the bath was keeping his head above water since he kept nodding off, only to shoot awake when water was dumped on his head to rinse off any soap or shampoo.
Once he was done and toweled off, she helped him into some of his sleepwear and tucked him into bed. Jack was firmly asleep before she'd even gotten the blankets in place on top of him.
Her self appointed duty complete, Em'brel went back to the med bay to check on Angela and their guest. Angela made her wash up and wear a mask and gown to enter the room and even then kept her on the other side of a clear divider.
Once inside, Em'brel could see the man's leg had already been removed at the first knee, and Anglea had many delicate instruments manipulating, injecting, and tieing off portions of the exposed muscle and sinews. Once she seemed satisfied with what was done, she took a loose flap of skin and wrapped it around the amputated limb before sewing it closed with thread.
Em'brel remembered enough from Jack's surgery to know that the steady beeping she was hearing was a good sign. "So he's ok?"
Angela's avatar reappeared before the girl. "I'm cautiously optimistic. He made it through the worst part, but he's far from out of the woods. The real question is, now that the initial cause of his condition has been removed, does he regen his strength, or has his body been pushed too far, and as a result, he simply never recovers. All we can do now is pump him full of antibiotics and nutrients and let him rest. The rest is up to him."
Looking at his face, the guard's expression looked more at peace than before. Em'brel wasn't sure if that was a sign of recovery or acceptance but figured, either way, it was better than the look of pained torment he'd had before.
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Aside from a sleepless night spent worrying about Jack, things were going relatively well for S'haar. With the human tools and heated coats, they produced wood fast enough to meet the village's demands with more to spare.
Initially, S'haar had been worried about Lon'thul's ability to hunt enough food for the villagers, but Fea'en had agreed to loan her coat to Lon'thul's father, Dek'thul. Though only after she lectured him. "You take better care of that coat than you do your own skin! If you bring it back with so much as one scratch on it, you'll provide me fresh meat for a year as compensation. If you lose or ruin it, you'll be feeding me for the rest of my life, you hear me?"
It was odd to see someone so unintimidated by the hunter chief. Many of the villagers found his presence unsettling despite his congenial nature. There was just something off-putting about a man who walked so closely with death.
The only one who didn't seem nonplused by the display was the hunter chief himself. "Of course, Lady Fea'en, I shall guard it with my life! I must admit, I'm quite looking forward to hunting in the deep snow. This will be a whole new hunt for me, and I'm curious about what I'll learn from it!"
Whatever lessons he needed to learn, he must have learned them quickly. With Dek'thul and Lon'thul working side by side, the meat poured in with surprising abundance. At the rate they were going, there wouldn't be a hungry mouth left in the village by the end of their second day working together.
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The snow was melting steadily, and S'haar suspected their services wouldn't be needed for longer than a few more days at most. She was eager to get home and see Jack again, but she'd just have to look forward to her next call home for now.
-
Ger'ron woke up in the strangest place he could have imagined. Looking around, every surface was metallic, grey, or white, he was sure this was the afterlife, and he was in the realm of the gods, but when he tried to sit up, he found he was strapped onto his bed.
After struggling against his bonds some more, the old guard called out. "Hello? Is anyone there? Where am I? What's going on?" No answers seemed forthcoming.
He was further displeased to note he did not possess the body of his youth the way the priests in the village had promised, and in fact, most of his aches and pains were as bad, if not worse than when he lived. Especially the foot that had been acting up before he'd died. Ger'ron had renewed his struggles when a portion of the wall seemed to open, and in walked a young argu'n woman.
Seeing him strain against his bonds, she walked over and placed two hands against his chest, though she didn't push him back into the bed as he'd expected. Instead, it felt more like her action was a request rather than an order. "Please relax, master guardsman. You'll be released shortly, but first, a few things must be explained to you."
As he looked closer at this woman, Ger'ron realized she was relatively young, probably a bit younger than his son. Something in her gentle demeanor took the fight right out of him, causing him to relax back into the bed. For the moment, there was no concern for danger or the future, just confusion. "Are you... are you an angel?"
The girl looked confused a moment, then looked around the room and smiled to herself before replying. "No, I'm not, and you're not dead either, though I can see why you might think that. I'm Em'brel, and you are a guest in the home of Jack."
Ger'ron's face twisted as his confusion deepened. "Wait, Jack's house? As in Jack, S'haar's visitor? I'm at the mountain? How'd I get here? Why am I here?"
A thousand other questioned bubbled up in his mind as the girl, Em'brel, he reminded himself, held up a hand to stave off any further questions. "After the freeze ended, Jack and S'haar left on an expedition with the other workers to help the village recover from the effects of the long freeze. When they got there, you were very sick and hadn't woken up for several days. Everyone was sure you were soon to pass, but Jack knew of a way to possibly save your life. Long story short, he brought you back to his house and healed you, though not without a heavy price to yourself."
Ger'ron's eyes narrowed. "What kind of price must I pay for this healing?" Waving his hands around to indicate the room, he continued. "What kind of price can I pay that would have any meaning? Compared to this room, all that have is worth nothing!"
Em'brel tilted her head to the side in thought. "Perhaps that was a poor choice of words. I don't believe Jack expects you to pay anything. You were treated out of a desire to be a good neighbor to the village and as a favor to your son, with whom Jack's become good friends. Instead, I meant it already cost you quite a bit. By the time Jack got you back here, your foot was already dead and taking you with it. To save your life, he had to cut off your foot."
Ger'ron shook his head. "That's impossible. I can feel my foot even now! It may hurt, but it's clearly there!"
That was when Jack came walking in. He'd gotten there just in time to hear the last of what the old guard had said before replying something unintelligible, which Em'brel translated for him. "He says that's something called 'phantom limb pain.' Apparently, it's relatively common in recent amputees, though it often fades over time."
Jack pulled up a chair and sat next to Ger'ron. The human looked disheveled, as though he'd just woken up before walking in here. His head tentacles were a mess, and he seemed to be trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. Giving the guard a brief once over, Jack spoke again, while Em'brel stood back in a respectful pose and continued to translate. "So aside from the foot, how are you feeling? Any other unusual aches or pains, difficulty breathing, blurred vision, or anything else out of the ordinary?"
Ger'ron was a bit taken aback. Sure, he'd spoken with Jack on multiple occasions, and he seemed quite close and relaxed around S'haar, his old student, but he seemed far too casual as he addressed Ger'ron. In contrast, Em'brel was almost too formal, as if she was speaking with a visiting dignitary of some sort. When he responded, the frustration and anger in his voice were plain to hear. "I'm fine. Though if you really did cut off my foot, you might as well have let me die! What's an old guard going to do with one foot? I'm too old to go learning some new trade. There was no point to any of this!"
Having said his piece, Ger'ron deflated back into the bed, somewhat annoyed his bindings kept him from rolling over and going back to sleep.
Jack had looked a bit startled at his outburst, then settled into a look of impatience. "Well, I'm not sure your son would agree. Setting that aside, there's also the lifetime's worth of skills and knowledge you've acquired. Even if you can't fully utilize it anymore, you can certainly teach it to those who can. If your village isn't interested in you, I'm certain we've got a job you can do here in return for food and lodging."
The old soldier looked at Jack through narrowed eyes. "I've never asked for handouts before, and I'm not about to start now!"
Jack smiled. "That's good because I'm not offering one. You'll have to work for your food and lodging. It'll probably be more demanding than sitting around watching a gate all day long, but I think you'll find our food is top-notch, and our housing isn't so bad either."
Ger'ron's curiosity was piqued, but Jack looked over at his bindings instead. "We can talk about that some more over some breakfast." Jack looked at an odd device on the wall that seemed to have some strange glowing runes before correcting himself. "Well, maybe dinner instead. But first, let me introduce you to the other resident of this house, my sister. I think she'd been hiding until you got comfortable with everything else going on here. Angela, come out and say hi."
A small glowing spirit appeared in the air over Ger'ron's bed. She was malformed like Jack but spoke clearly, without the need of a translator. "Hi, I'm Angela. Good to see you doing well! You were in pretty rough shape when Jack brought you in!"
Ger'ron didn't know what to say. For that matter, he didn't even know what to think. Based on some of his grandfather's stories about spirits, he might have thought about running if he hadn't been tied down. As it was, all he could do was stare in confusion.
Jack broke the silence with Em'brel taking over translation once again. "Angela here is actually the one who performed the procedure that saved your life. She might look small and dainty, but there is little she can't see or do inside this house."
Angela had the decency to look abashed at the attention she was receiving. "Awww, stop it! You're the one who dragged him through the frozen forest alone at night! Compared with that, I had the easy job!"
As Jack started to undo the straps tieing down Ger'ron, the old guard looked over at Em'brel with confusion and exhaustion. "Is it always like this around here?"
Em'brel gave him an understanding smile before replying. "You get used to it after a while. They're strange, but you won't find a nicer pair in the land."
Jack and Angela seemed to be arguing over who was more responsible for saving Ger'ron's life now, both insisting it was the other. Em'brel looked at them and sighed. "They are strange, though..."
Finally, Jack looked up from his argument, glaring at Em'brel with mock offense. "Who are you calling strange?"
Angela simply laughed. "I think she's calling you strange. You've always been a little... off..."
Jack directed his offense back at his sister. "I'm strange? Look at you! At least I'm flesh and blood. You're a floating projection of light!"
It was Angela's turn to be offended. "That's SPECIESIST! We've been acknowledged as people with all the rights and privileges therein per the AI treaty!"
Jack waved away her argument. "That's a strawman argument, and you know it! I was saying that you would be harder to comprehend by a person who hasn't learned of computing basics yet, let alone thought of sentient AI! In other words, you're the strange one!"
Em'brel watched the arguing duo before turning her attention back to the very confused guard, now free of his bindings. "Don't worry, even if you understood both halves of the argument, it wouldn't make any more sense. They're probably going to be at this for a while. Let me show you how to use these crutches Angela had made up for you, and we'll go get you some real food."
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