Jewel: Chapter Three
#4 of Jewel
The next three days passed quickly and with surprisingly little event. Vedran had not been by Slagar's quarters since their first fairly brief initial meeting, and the masked fox genuinely wondered when the warlord was going to negotiate with him again. Jewel, on the other hand, continued to interact little with her patient. When they did have a conversation that lasted more than a few minutes, it was always stilted and awkward- at least, on her part; much to Slagar's secret amusement.
The slaver, however, was determined to keep playing the part of the suave and understanding confidant- though how much Jewel believed him, he was not quite certain- and for this reason kept his opinions to himself. Three days having passed since his escape from Malkariss' kingdom and his subsequent arrival at Vedran's, the red fox knew his wounds were healing.
Though her skills were very much inferior (especially when compared with his own), and Slagar would probably never acknowledge what talent she supposedly had. But the stabbing and burning pain in his ribcage had been diluted to little more than an irritating soreness. In addition, the pain in his broken leg was greatly reduced as well; although by this point both limbs had become numbed and stiffened from lack of use.
His cycle of sleeping and waking was normal now save for the occasional light rest in the afternoon, and Slagar knew- as any fool would- that he was through the worst of his injuries. And it was high time he roused himself from bed and explored the world beyond these rather dull four walls of solid stone.
The disfigured fox was sick of languishing in bed like some useless cripple- and besides; the sooner both of his legs got exercise, the better. He brought this idea up to Jewel that afternoon.
Sitting in bed and pretending to be immersed in a volume of poetry, Slagar asked the white vixen:
"If you wouldn't mind, I think I'm more than ready to get out of bed."
He inquired in a perfectly placid manner; still deep in the role of the sympathetic friend and fellow healer- for the most part, anyway.
"It's been three days now since I was brought here, don't you think it's high time yourself?"
The younger fox agreed- Three days had been a long enough time to spend in bed with a broken leg, there was no real reason why Slagar couldn't walk today and see how he fared. On that note, though, if he further injured himself in the process; she wasn't about to take responsibility.
"Fine, though don't blame me if you end up losing your balance."
Jewel quipped, although her tone was wry; and it was quite clear her remark was meant in a humorous manner.
"If such a thing happens,"
Slagar replied, with a choice roll of his eyes; a bit of his typical dark humor breaking through.
"Don't ever forget that you'll be the one who saw the Lord of Double Dealing stumbling about like a child and falling upon his arse,"
And with little further prelude, the older fox pulled back the thin linen blanket and took his first shaky steps on the carpeted floor. There was a bit of a stinging pain in his left leg at first, but Slagar soon found that if he put minimal weight on his broken limb; the easier and more comfortable it was to get around.
Walking all the way to the door with little interruption, Slagar turned and asked Jewel:
"And where might I find my clothing?"
The older fox's cheeks flushed at the very idea- he was not about to go traipsing through a strange warlord's castle in nothing more than his nightclothes!
"Over here,"
Brushing past Slagar, Jewel opened the door; revealing an expanse of wide, spacious hallway. It branched off both east and west, and there was another closed door only several feet away from Jewel's current position in the hallway. Mumbling something that would have to pass for a 'thank you' under his breath, Slagar hobbled off into the small room (which turned out to be a dusty, musty-scented little chamber that contained only ancient scrolls of parchment, old furniture, etc.) and managed to put on his tunic, trousers and cloak within only a few minutes.
Now dressed, the slaver shut the door behind him and limped away into the hall.
"Going anywhere in particular?"
Slagar froze at the unexpected sound of Jewel's voice.
"Yes...."
Slagar inclined his head slightly to the right, where he was able to make out the distant image of a grassy little courtyard sparsely decorated with a fountain and an array of flowers and trees.
"To that little garden over there. Why do you ask?"
The other fox did not add, however, that he planned to spend much of the remainder of the afternoon gathering herbs- assuming he could find what he needed to treat himself.
"Funny coincidence,"
Jewel murmured, half to herself.
"Well, I'm going out there myself; just to get some fresh air. It's nice out, and I want to spend time outside before we get another heat wave."
Without another word in response, Slagar simply nodded. He would be gathering herbs, Jewel would be enjoying the mild weather; their paths would probably not cross for long if all went well. He could more than tolerate that.
And with that, the Sly One stepped out into the courtyard. It turned out to be a still and peaceful little area; with an ancient and bent-over oak tree on the far right-hand corner, offering plenty of shadow.
A scraggly, off-kilter row of shrubs and bushes lined each side of the paved stone path that snaked its way through the garden. There were several little stone benches placed throughout the courtyard; along with an ancient-looking stone fountain at its center. Treading carefully so as not to lose his balance, Slagar passed through the courtyard and into an unassuming little meadow a short distance away.
Falling onto his knees on the grass, Slagar soon busied himself with looking about for the herbs he needed to soothe the omnipresent pain in his facial wounds.
~
Roughly twenty minutes later; Slagar had found the ingredients he required and was once again in his room. Though his current living quarters were sparsely furnished; there at least was a small table made of rough-hewn stone he could use as a workspace.
This, the Sly One noted, was also the place where Jewel had left behind some of her stock of herbs and medicinal supplies (among them a mortar and pestle; as well as other materials used to grind herbal ingredients into a paste). The masked fox quickly set to work in laying out his finds on the table's surface: St. John's wort and a bit of wintergreen- All he had been able to find; but it was going to have to do for now. And so he got to work.
Salves and poultices like this one could keep it at bay (to an extent) for several hours at most, though it depended on the ingredients. Even though the pain was manageable; the disfigured creature knew what he had was not a cure and would never be- the damage had been done, and there was sadly no way to reverse it.
For quite a time, Slagar had thought that wreaking his revenge on Matthias and his simpering woodland cohorts would have been compensation enough. But now, even that had been robbed from him. When was the last time he had been lucky, simply one time?
On that note, now that the poultice had been properly crushed into a paste, it was more than ready to be applied. Good.
The herbs having been suitably crushed into a slightly sticky, greenish-gray paste; Slagar removed the red-and-purple skull mask from his head and face.
The fox took his time applying the mixture to the injured side of his face and anticipating the inevitable sting. The pain, as much as he reviled it, had practically become a typical and everyday part of life over fifteen years later. Slagar was just about to put on his mask again, however, when he was startled by an unexpected visitor....
Unfortunately for the both of them, Jewel had chosen that exact moment to enter the room. Whatever it was she had been going to say, the vixen's jaw dropped; and she could not quite seem to find her voice as she gazed, open-mouthed at the right side of Slagar's face. Where reddish, rust-colored fur had once been; there was only bare and rotted skin that had been desiccated by the serpent's venom.
And the mutilated skin that there was colored in unnatural shades of black and sickly purple; like a diseased limb whose circulation had been cut off.
"As you can see,"
Slagar deadpanned; but the scalding vitriol in his tone was unmistakable.
"I'm devastatingly handsome, aren't I?"
The silence only went uninterrupted for a few spare moments until Jewel (swallowing hard) at last regained her senses. She was horrified and disgusted at the full horror of the slaver's deformities, make no mistake, but as a healer; she could not quite help but be curious as to someone with such remarkable wounds could have survived for so long.
"I...Erm....I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to intrude; really, I wasn't."
Slagar only shook his head, chuckling contemptuously, his true colors revealed.
"You really should have known better than to try to sneak in here the way you did, young wench! And it's doubly unfortunate you had to get a peek at my old wounds. I am a creature who values his privacy, and you wouldn't do well to cross me...."
These last seven words were a menacing, rasping hiss. Jewel was unable to keep from cringing.
"Now, if you want to avoid further discord; I strongly suggest that you leave me." Jewel took several shaky steps backwards towards the door, breathing hard.
"I said leave me!"
Needing no further warning, Jewel fled the room and into the refuge of the hallway; breathing hard as she raced off into the corridor. Leaning against the nearest wall to catch her breath, the vixen stood there, overwhelmed by all that had happened in the past few minutes.
Well, he certainly made his point clear....
_ _
She thought, bitter.
Still, the young vixen could not quite help as to be morbidly curious about Slagar's face. She had never seen anything quite like it in her two and a half decades of living; and it still chilled her as she thought back on it now. That face.... The left side was perfectly fine, handsome, even; but the right side was a monstrosity to behold. There was simply no other way of looking at it.
Shredded and colored with unnatural shades of bruised purple that darkened to black. Not a single piece of fur grew on the massive wounded area, making the whole thing look even more peculiar and surreal.
And those eyes, seasons, those eyes.... An attractive shade of greenish-brown- well, would have been attractive on any normal creature- The sheer and scathing, venomous contempt that had flamed in them had been more than enough to encourage Jewel to leave the room.
At the very least; now I know why he wears that mask....
_ _
She mused.
But still. Jewel had never once seen a creature with facial wounds nearly that severe, or quite as discomforting to look at. At the back of her mind, she vaguely wondered what it had been that had caused such an injury. Whatever it was; she knew that the events of several minutes earlier would be very long in leaving her.
It went without saying that her unspoken, pervading suspicions had come true: Slagar the Cruel was a very dangerous beast.