The Lead Crown: Ch 3b, The Prodigy (Pt 5)
Tranquil Waters: The Lead Crown
Ch 3-5, The Prodigy
Friar Arlowe had expected the Church to come in force, and knew they would be ruthless in their pursuit of anyone named as a heretic, but the complete and unrestrained slaughter they had brought to bear against the Yew Tribe still managed to astound and sicken him. The monk, hardly skilled at the ways of combat, remained at the middle of the village, eager to aid any who would need succor or healing... but little was he to know that he'd soon be forced to tend to his own grievous wounds.
Battle was joined near the southern edge of the village, but the fight did not remain contained there for long. As soon as the warriors of the tribe moved to address the invasion, Inquisitors came in by wing, laying waste to the wooden homes with their flaming breath. Friar Arlowe, who had been in one such structure, considered himself blessed to have survived its collapse... two of the other four occupants in there with him were not as lucky.
From there, the monk spent his time evading the fiery blasts from the strafing dragons and trying to get to whomever he could that needed aid. In a majority of cases it was too late to help but, in a few situations he managed to get some of the injured under cover of the tree line. If the tribe lost the ground war there was little doubt in Arlowe's mind that the injured would be found in the woods... and that was not something he was willing to think about.
Brother Rhys had likewise stayed out of the majority of the combat, aiding Friar Arlowe to the best of his abilities. The rat, unlike the raccoon dog, had not suffered the collapse of a burning building, but he hadn't fared much better; during a forray into the burning village the rat had been set upon by one of the Church's foot soldiers. Although there were deer warriors with the priest, he still ended up taking a nasty blow to the abdomen... but he didn't seem willing to let it slow him.
It was nearly a half hour after the attack first began before the event that changed the tide. A pale white fire, like the touch of God himself, rose into the air and smote the half dozen Inquisitors that had laid waste to the village. Although one or two of the flying dragons remained, the display was enough to route the Church's forces and, from there, the remnants of the Yew Tribe's warriors managed to push them back. If Arlowe had thought the worst was over, however, he didn't realize what he would have to face when he returned to the gutted, burned, charred village.
Aodhan and Aurelie, who had been at the forefront of the fight, had weathered the worst of it relatively well. Aurelie, amazingly, other than a few errant droplets of blood here-or-there, was completely untouched. Aodhan, who had spent the majority of his time attempting to harry the flying Inquisitors, did not have the capacity to protect himself quiet as well, thus he had a number of superficial wounds, but no single one was very serious. Friar Arlowe did what he could to treat the injuries so they wouldn't sour, then left him to the ministrations of Sister Aurelie, who was more than happy enough to take over.
Right about mid-village the Raccoon Dog paused to tend to some injured children. Their mothers were mulling about speaking to him as he worked, but he didn't know what they were saying; what he did know was that the young ones had been burned, and needed help. Brother Rhys, being supported by the young buck Runs-on-Air, found him there. The rat wasted no time in getting his attention, "Cruffington was hurt in the attack."
Friar Arlowe looked up immediately, dropping the burn salve container as he did so, "Where is he? He is well?"
The priest lowered his gaze and slowly shook his head, "Come... this way."
They traveled a good distance across the village to one of the western huts; it had been singed but was still standing. Based on the sounds of cries and wails from within, Friar Arlowe assumed it had been converted into a hospital... or at least as much of one as the Tribals could manage.
With all the desperation of a concerned father, Friar Arlowe pushed his way into the hut, and glanced quickly around until he saw his son. He went immediately to the side of the cot where the young Raccoon Dog was laying and he knelt down, taking hold of Cruff's paw, "Cruffington?... Cruff?... Son?"
One eye cracked open, a grimace of pain evident on Cruff's muzzle, "...Dad?"
The monk offered a painted smile, "You were supposed to stay out of danger..."
The younger Raccoon Dog groaned, rotating his head to look his way, "...says the guy who looks like he... ungh... picked a fight with a campfire..." Cruff's attempt at a laugh came out more like a grunt.
Friar Arlowe gave his son's paw a squeeze, "Danger found ME."
"Yea," Cruff grunted, "...me too... only in my case, danger had an axe."
The monk slowly rested a paw atop the bandage stuck to his son's side. Even the gentlest of pressure elicited a wince from the young Raccoon Dog; Arlowe was no healer, but he could tell that the blade had likely gone through his ribs... but hopefully through nothing more important than bones.
"We really showed em." his son offered with as much bravado as he was able to muster. Friar Arlowe grew more concerned when Cruff's smile revealed pale-looking gums.
The monk looked up and around, raising his voice, "Hello? Who-- who is the healer here? Is there a doctor? Who is caring for these people?" His questions met with no reply... either nobody understood him, or there wasn't one, "Someone? Please? Help!"
Cruff pawed at the monk's robe from his place on the bed, "Dad... quiet... not so loud..." and he winced again, lowering his arm, "There are hurt people here..."
Friar Arlowe felt his heart begin to beat faster in his chest, "Cruff... I'm going to go find someone who can help you..." and, as he stood, all he could think, over and over in his head was "God, please... I'm BEGGING YOU... help my son... God, PLEASE help me find someone who can save him."
* * * * * *
Aodhan had experienced his fair share of wounds in his life, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd been stabbed by a sword; the sensation was NOT one he'd wished to repeat. Sister Aurelie flittered about him, tending to each and every one of his wounds, talking, if it were at all possible, even faster than speaking... which would have been quite a feat for anyone other than his Eyara. He had objected to the close watch repeatedly, but it fell upon deaf ears as the Cat continued to obsess about every little injury... that was, at least, until they heard Friar Arlowe's screams.
The cat was very adamant in a response, "You, stay. I'll go."
Apparently disallowed from joining Sister Aurelie and Friar Arlowe, the wolf instead chose to move about the village to see about helping where he could. Where he ended up, however, was in joining several of the Yew Tribe in welcoming the war band that had come to them from the Valley Tribe in their time of need. As an honorary member of the Oak Tribe, it was Aodhan's duty to act as the intermediary between the guests and the hosts.
It was not a very in depth duty, and mostly consisted of listening to both sides and keeping the peace if any arguments arose... not that any did considering the Valley Tribe warriors were heroes for their timely intervention. What it DID provide, however, was the opportunity for Aodhan to meet the village's "saviors", which included the Valley Tribe's shaman... a rather interesting bear wearing Lehsunian spectacles-- he had no trouble whatsoever speaking the Stone Tribe's tongue to several Lehsunians who had apparently traveled with them to aid the Deer.
The Valley Tribe's Shaman, Metal-Eyes made quick introductions of the Lehsunians. Theo, the injured ermine at the Shaman's side was nursing a leg. A Human and a Fox, Nicholas and Sanmer respectively each appeared to have taken their share of wounds in battle, but they seemed more restless than injured-- according to the Ermine, one of the group was under the care of a healer, and they were still missing one of their number... a Dragon.
Aesha Humn, the Yew Tribe's Shaman was quick to counter, "The Dragons were among the Men of Symbol."
Metal-Eyes shook his head, "This Dragon was not with them. He is special. He--"
The cry of a young fawn caught everyone's attention as the boy sprang over a blackened fire pit, all the while crying for Aesha Humn. He was young enough that his words were not fully clear, but old enough that his use of the tribal tongue was already accented like the rest of his people; the combination of both traits made it hard for Aodhan to understand him... though he did distinctly hear the word 'Dragon' more than once.
Metal-Eyes spoke up to the Lehsunians in their tongue, "The boy knows where Kesst is... he was with him when they fell from the sky."
Theo knelt down and spoke hesitantly in The People's language, "Can you... show us...um... daffodil?"
The big white bear beside the Shaman, Gift-of-the-Earth by name, corrected the Ermine, "Where. 'Can you show us WHERE?'."
The large black bear, Roaring-Flood, smirked, giving the small Ermine a slap on the back and addressed him in Common, "Is good start... words sound close... 'amoa' and amohah'."
The Yew Tribe Shaman finished speaking with the boy, who immediately about-faced and headed back the way he had come. Intrigued, Aodhan chose to follow the group; though his task as intermediary was essentially complete, he was somewhat intrigued to hear about a Dragon that had chosen to side with The People over The Church.
The fawn ran past the edge of the village and into the outskirts to an area just before the trees thickened. He slowed as he approached a distinctive disturbance in the earth, and shied back away from it, remaining behind the Yew Tribe Shaman as she knelt down to look at it. Making a warding sight in front of her, the woman murmured, "What in the name of the spirits is it that lays before me?"
The Valley Tribe Shaman stepped forward, "It is from the Stone Tribe... his name is Kesst... the Stone Tribe call it an 'automaton'."
The word sounded strange to Aodhan; even though he'd spent years among Lehsunians he could never recall ever having heard it spoken. He took some comfort from the white-furred ermine's reaction; Theo fainted dead away.
The Bears all knelt down by the impact sight and only then did the wolf Approach. Just as they had said, there was indeed a Dragon laying in the indent... but he was unmoving and had a large hunk of wood sticking out of his chest. While Aodhan would have expected blood to be coating the area of the wound, there was, in fact, none. What should have been flesh-and-scale around the injury was instead a mess of cracked and broken ceramic. He couldn't help but ask, "Is... is it dead?"
Aodhan expected the answer to be an obvious 'yes', but he was surprised by the Valley Tribe Shaman's, "No... he is not."
Together, the three Bears carefully pulled the dragon-like mechanism out of the hole, being exceedingly careful to cut the root off and keep it in place. One of the other Deer that had come with noticed that and, stepping forward asked, "Is it like us? If you remove the wood will it bleed to death?"
Metal-Eyes gave the Deer no focus, but answered the question as he and the other bears set the unmoving impaled dragon-like 'thing' on a stretcher, "Yes, he is like us... removing the wood won't make him bleed to death but it will cause more harm than good if done by someone who is not skilled at this sort of thing."
Aodhan spoke up, "We have a healer among our number if you need."
The Bear Shaman shook his head, "No, but I thank you... we need an Artificer."
A series of confused expressions showed on everyone's faces at the strange word, and it was Enarork who spoke up first, "What is an 'Artificer'?"
Metal-Eyes sighed, "A very, VERY rare kind of healer."
Roaring-Flood crossed his arms over his massive chest, "This Dragon was a good one. Where can we find an Artific-watever?"
Aesha Humn nodded, "He helped my people... we will help however we can as well."
The Valley Tribe Shaman shook his head, "This is beyond The People... I will have to take him to the Stone Tribe village."
Aodhan took a step forward, speaking up in Common, "Are you taking him to the University?"
Metal-Eyes opened his muzzle to say something, then paused, replying likewise in Common, "I... don't know. The only Artificer I ever met was a white Dragon named Crook."
Enarork grunted, nodding, "Then we will find him."
The Valley Tribe Shaman nodded; the two bears assisting him picked up the unmoving Dragon on the stretcher. Only once they were out of earshot of the Deer did he bother adding, "One problem... Crook is a Church Templar."