Ascent of the Unwanted (The Chronicle of Unfortunate Heroes Book 1) (16 page)

The White Charger stood up. “Erik of Armeston, from this day forward you will be recorded in the records of the Roh’Darharim as Erik Tal’Sorvae, The Protector of Sorrows.”

“May I ask something, sir?”

“You may ask anything you want at the moment.”

“Why make me do that? Why force me to grab that coal?”

“The voice I use only compels, it cannot force. That is not what the Roh’Darharim stands for. Every man has choices they must make on their own. And asking you to do things is my job.”

“I meant is it really necessary, everybody who passes leaves injured.”

“I know what you meant, Erik.” The old man took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The final test is the most important of all. I send out orders every day to all my Roh’Darharim. There is rarely an order I give that does not put you directly in harm’s way. I have to know that my orders will be followed without question. In the heat of battle there is rarely time for questions.”

“And had I questioned the order at the time, sir?” Erik was not sure he wanted the answer to the question. The butterflies that had quieted down in his stomach flew into a deep hole. Lawt was deathly afraid of fire. He would have to say goodbye to his friend.

“Had you questioned the order I would have told you my tea was not really that cold. We all have our own personal challenges, Erik.” The man apparently knew a lot about his trainees. The White Charger knew about Lawt as well.

The old man walked across the room and exposed the corner behind the curtain. A uniform of red and a gold cloak lay on a small table in the corner.

Erik walked down the mountain in his red and gold, his heart bursting from his chest each time the cloak snapped in the wind. At the base of the mountain sat Istan. “Congratulations, brother. What name is to be recorded in the books of the Roh’Darharim?”

“Erik Tal’Sorvae, Protector of Sorrows,” Erik said. “I know all of us have the same type of name but I did not know they were like titles. I don’t understand what mine means? Sorrows? How does one protect such a thing, and who would want it protected?”

“You may never find out. It may help to let you know that I don’t know why I have my title. Tal’Griovahi means Protector of the Naïve. Kind of silly if you ask me. Sorrows is a little dark though, but they all have to mean something, right?”

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. Erik remembered being congratulated by Lawt, Gavin, and Phayden. The skinny surgeon stood out among the throng of people. He was close to Gavin and Istan so, in a way, he was kind of like family.

Time passed and he watched Gavin in the center of the quad, waiting for Lawt to present himself. There was no formal announcement that anything was happening. Everyone who passed would see Gavin waiting for his foal, and they in turn would wait curiously at the edges of the square for the ceremony to begin. Finally Lawt came out of the barracks. The green color in his face was gone, replaced with a look of pain.

When Lawt and Gavin finished their ceremonial introductions and left toward the mountain path, Erik followed far behind. He did not want to interrupt the ritual or the bond that was shared between sire and foal. He just wanted to be at the bottom of the path to greet Lawt when he finished his ordeal.

Erik waited away from Gavin. Gavin needed to be the first that met with Lawt. For the first hour Erik paced. He did not recall being in there this long. Of course, Erik had forgotten about the travel time. It was just passed noon when Erik had left for his meeting. It was early evening now. Erik fidgeted another hour away. His friend had to be doing well. There was no reason to be taking so long otherwise. Erik began to walk toward Gavin when a monstrous scream echoed down the mountain. It was Lawt and he was in agony.

In a blur four blue cloaks galloped up the mountain. Before Lawt’s screams had died off the blue cloaks disappeared in the darkness toward the White Charger’s house. Erik waited impatiently as the minutes dragged on. The urge to help, and the knowledge of him getting in the way, played tug of war with his mind.

Gavin, still sitting on a rock, reached into his tunic and pulled out a pipe. He began rummaging around his belt pouches for the fill.

“What are you doing?” Erik asked.

“I’m waiting.” His tone was quiet. The man used his flint and steel to ignite a frayed end of hemp rope and began to apply the flame to his pipe bowl.

“You don’t even care?”

“What do you want me to do?” Gavin asked letting out a large puff of smoke. “Run around agitated and annoy everyone in the vicinity with worry. By the way, that happens to be you. There is not much we can do but wait.”

Gavin was right of course. Erik took a few deep breaths to calm himself. The pipe smoke filled the air with a sweet and reassuring aroma. “You wouldn’t happen to have a spare pipe on you?”

Gavin smiled. “I always keep a spare. Never know when a friend would like to sit and relax with you.” Gavin fumbled around in his tunic again pulling out another pipe. He filled the bowl before handing it to Erik.

The two men sat there at the bottom of the mountain waiting for word of their friend. The time helped to calm Erik down but his concern for his friend did not diminish. Finally the four surgeons appeared on foot carrying a stretcher. The surgeons were sweating and grunting under Lawt’s large frame. Erik ran toward his friend, the smell of burning flesh grew stronger as he approached.

“What happened?” Erik asked.

“He passed the final test.” One of the surgeons told him. “I hope it was worth it to him.”

“What do you mean?” Gavin said, walking up behind Erik.

“It seemed that when the White Charger asked for the piece of coal the man panicked. He did not pick up one coal, he reached into the fire and grabbed a whole handful and would not let go. He still has them in his hand, or what is left of his hand. Had the charger not acted quickly it could have been a lot worse. Still it is going to have to be amputated.”

The surge of joy Erik felt in hearing that his friend has passed the final test vanished. He wanted to be sick.

“Why is he unconscious?” Erik asked.

“We had to uh…sedate him in order to get him down. He was throwing my men around like ragdolls up there. You can see him in the morning, right now we need to take him to see the Chief Surgeon.”

The lump on the side of Lawt’s head spoke volumes about the force of the sedation.

Erik did not leave Ramona’s side while she worked on Lawt. They had given her this opportunity because of her previous experience with him. The Chief Surgeon thought the whole hand did not need to come off. It could be possible to save his thumb on his left hand but everything above that would need to be removed. It would not be as functional as a normal hand, but more functional than no hand at all. The man was fortunate it was his left, non-dominant hand. A specially made shield would allow him to continue as Roh’Darharim with very little re-training.

“Those imbeciles are always so conservative. Yes, his pinky and his ring finger must go, but the rest can be saved. They thought he was going to die after the bear attack. I proved them wrong then, and they are wrong now,” Ramona whispered under her breath as she worked. “Talking to me like I am a novice, like I don’t know how special a deep burn is.”

Erik had heard Ramona and the surgeons’ arguments. The Chief Surgeon had put it bluntly. She can do as she wants but if he died she was out.

With that decree Ramona went straight to work on Lawt while keeping him heavily sedated. Lawt’s pinky broke clean off when Ramona attempted to unclench his fist. With the charcoal removed she cleaned the hand as best she could, then took her surgeons kit and removed a small handsaw. The sound of metal on bone shivered in Erik’s skull and down his spine. With each stroke of the saw there was more blood and more tissue grated loose, more bone ground to dust. Bits of flesh clung hungrily to the saw teeth. Erik ground his own teeth until the woman was finished. With a cauterizing iron she seared the wound she had just made with a fresh burn to stop the bleeding.

He noticed the care with which he wrapped his hand. The alcohol soaked bandages were loose. When she was finished she sat next to Lawt, looking at him. Erik did not know if she had forgotten that he was still in the room with her. She sat looking at Lawt’s face and slowly she raised her hand to the man’s head and gently brushed errant hairs out of the way. The way Erik’s mother used to do to him whenever he was sick.

“He talks a lot about you,” Ramona said quietly not looking at Erik. “Underneath this big man’s rough exterior is a frightened little boy. He feels all alone in this world. The only thing he has is you. He is afraid of others hurting him but most of all he is afraid of you. He is afraid of disappointing you, of losing you, or getting you hurt because of your relationship with him.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“Of course, you idiot. We just need to wait and see what else we have to do. Go get some sleep Roh’Darharim. If we want the best we will have to work together. I will watch over him tonight. In the morning, don’t do anything stupid like get him riled up.”

Ramona was true to her word. When Erik arrived the next morning she was rewrapping his dried bandages and replacing them with fresh alcohol soaked pads. Erik stayed with the slumbering man during the day while Ramona slept. Ramona cautioned Erik frequently about trying to do too much with the wound since too much tampering could cause infection.

The tears came again when Lawt awoke, and he received the news about his hand. The White Charger came down personally to give Lawt his uniform and his title, Tal’Onala. He was the Protector of Innocence. More tears flowed but this time for a different reason.

One morning, when Erik arrived to relieve Ramona, his friend’s sleeping countenance stunned him. “What is that?” he whispered.

“What is the matter with you, worrying me for nothing? The man is asleep. There is nothing wrong that I can see, and if there is something wrong I can fix it.”

“His mouth, look at his teeth.” With each word Erik was getting louder.

“Follow me, you damn buffoon, and keep your mouth shut.”

Ramona led Erik to the well outside the infirmary then drew in a deep breath. “How dare you do that to him? Draw attention like that, from no fault of his own. He could wake up at any moment. Do you think the first thing he would want to see is you with that look of disgust?”

“What have you been doing to him?” Erik accused.

“What have I…? I have only been trying to save that man’s hand.”

“His teeth have nothing to do with his hand.”

“You moron, you don’t know anything about him. The man is not human.”

“He is more human than you!” Erik could feel his anger raging up his neck into his face. Erik expected another smart retort from the woman but her face softened and she looked Erik in the eyes.

“I did not mean it in that way, Erik. Half of Lawt is physically not human. His body responds to trauma differently than we do. On top of being stronger, faster, and tougher, he heals differently, too. If he is wounded his body reacts offensively. If he is wounded badly, and he recovers, his body tries to make it easier to defend itself the next time. Since his last injury I have made a study with any available resource I could. When he was mauled by that bear his body responded by giving him tusks.”

“That was years ago. Why did they only show up now?”

“They showed up a month after the incident. Lawt has asked me to file them down each week as soon as he noticed them. He did not want people to react the same way you just did, and you’re his best friend.”

Erik bit back the embarrassment he was feeling. “He could have told me.”

“He probably could have.” The woman had a hint of sympathy in her voice. “You know now, and that is what is important. It is not your secret to tell. Lawt will decide when he does not have to hide being who he is. Now we have more important things to worry about.”

“Don’t worry, you know you’re our surgeon when we leave.”

“If it ever comes to that, but that is not what I am talking about. Lawt is gaining strength every day, which is good. I am afraid his hand is festering though. I drained a half cup of pus from it yesterday. I am doing everything I know but it is not helping.”

“So what do we do?”

“That’s just it, we can’t do anything with his hand as it is. I am sorry, I…” Ramona turned away crying, “made a mistake. Why was I so pig-headed? I had to prove to them all that I was better than them! Had I done what the Surgeons suggested he would probably be able to keep his thumb!”

“And now?” Erik asked.

Ramona paused. “Now I am afraid his entire hand must come off.”

“When?”

“As soon as I can get a hot blade.”

Erik started back into the infirmary. He was angry about his impotence in the situation more than anything else. Ramona was doing the best she could, and he knew despite her rough edges that she would always do what she could to protect Lawt.

As Erik walked in Lawt awoke. “You look worse than I feel,” Lawt said.

“Are you okay?” Erik asked worried.

“I am fine. It was a joke.”

Erik and Ramona stood in silence, neither of them could think of a way to tell Lawt the bad news.

“Something is wrong, isn’t it?” Lawt finally said.

“Ramona has told me some bad news, old friend. It seems your wounds were worse than she estimated. You are going to lose your entire hand, I am afraid.” Erik’s words were calm, they never wavered.

“Well it was not much of a hand anymore, was it?” The tears in Lawt’s eyes showed that the news hurt worse than his words indicated. “Can I ask a favor of you, Ramona?”

“I hope I can grant it,” Ramona said.

“I want Erik to do it. I want it done with his blade.”

“I can’t do that!” Erik cried.

“You do it or it does not come off.” Lawt’s demeanor told them that he was serious.

“How can you ask me to do this?”

“There are only two people in this world I trust, Erik. One of them told me what has to happen. I would hope the other would help me go through with it.”

Erik paced around the small room.

“There has to be another way. We have gone through so much together. Now that we are at the end, and proven everyone wrong, how can we end like this?” Erik looked his friend in the eyes, not sure if he wanted an answer.

“This is just another thing we will get past. This is not the end, Erik. This is the beginning of the three of us doing the incredible, to continue proving everyone wrong.”

Erik pulled his sword from his scabbard. He walked over to the iron stove in the corner of the room. With the tip of his blade he opened the small door then sunk the blade in as far as it would go.

“Let me prepare him. By the time he is ready your sword will be hot enough,” Ramona said.

She moved without hesitation, filling a small cup with powdered herbs and steaming water. A thin iron rod and a wooden stick were placed next to Erik’s sword in the coals. Another cup appeared this time with less water and more herbs and these she formed into a paste. The woman moved all over the room but never seemed to leave Lawt’s side. She offered Lawt the first cup she had prepared. “Drink it all.”

Lawt looked at her hesitantly, then took the brew and downed it. The man’s face almost broke the grim atmosphere. That concoction must have been vile.

Ramona now went to work on the man proper. She placed a bed high table next to him and removed all the dressings from his arm. With the care of a mother laying down her newborn baby, she placed his hand on the table and used bandages to secure the hand to it. She tied one last strap around the middle of Lawt’s forearm, and with a stick twisted the tourniquet cutting off the blood flow to his hand. She went back to the stove, removed the stick, and blew out the small flame that burned at the end. She dipped the tip in water, and used the charcoal to draw a line across Lawt’s wrist. “That should do it.”

“And another thing,” Lawt said, his words slurring together. “No one can call me nubby.”

Erik went over to grab his sword.

“You need to do it in one stroke. if you only cut half way through you will need to do it again only higher.” Ramona said. “After you make the blow I need you to discard your blade and hold him down. I have to cauterize any vessels that were not seared by your blade.”

“The man wrestles bears. What do you think I can do with him?”

“Not bearsh,” Lawt chimed in. “One bearsh! And I won!”

“I think the hemeth I gave him may help you with that,” Ramona said.

“Won’t this burn him more?” Erik asked.

“Yes, but they will be smaller burns, and will have the advantage of immediate treatment.”

Erik removed the blade from the stove, its end glowed orange. He raised his sword, looking at Ramona for reassurance. She gave a small nod. The sword came down embedding itself into the table. The ringing sound of metal made a sad counterpoint to the scream Lawt let out.

Lawt pulled his arm back instinctively. Erik jumped on top of his friend, trying to pin his arm back into a position were Ramona could work. Erik felt himself in the air as Lawt’s right arm tossed him into the wall.

“Stop fooling around and get over here,” Ramona screamed.

Erik pinned Lawt, this time using leverage on his right arm to pin it back. In this position the man could not use all his strength. With the rest of his weight he held Lawt’s severed arm still. With precision Ramona went to work. Small wisps of smoke rose into the air as she moved the small iron rod from point to point, cutting off the egress of crimson fluid. Ramona packed the stump with the paste of herbs she had made and wrapped the entire wound in alcohol soaked bandages.

“You can get off me now, Erik,” Lawt gasped.

Erik slowly got off his friend and ran his fingers through his hair. “It was not too bad, I hope.”

“No. Not too bad,” Lawt replied. “Never had anything worse mind you. I am just glad this ordeal didn’t cost me a leg as well.”

A small chuckle escaped Erik. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t be laughing.”

“Why not? I thought it was a pretty good joke, all things considered,” Lawt said, then he passed out.

Over the next few weeks Lawt slowly recovered. The man’s vigor returned within days and was soon walking around the infirmary. After that, keeping him inside the infirmary began to be a chore. It was the morning of the tenth day that Ramona noticed the point of bone. She had though Erik had made a clean cut. The skin could stretch painfully around that and the man would be in pain for the rest of his life.

“I am going to have to take care of that when you have the strength,” she said pointing to the small spur emerging from the scab.

“Not much point to it. Look at my other hand.” Lawt raised his hand in a fist to show Ramona his knuckles. Four small pimples had risen in the middle of each knuckle. On close inspection Ramona realized they were not pimples at all. What she thought were the white heads, were in fact bone spurs from the man’s knuckle. The surrounding red flesh was inflamed due to the tireless crawl of the bone to break the skin.

“I pity the man who gets in a fist fight with you,” Erik said.

“I hope that never gets realized,” Lawt said looking at his knuckles.

“Can I ask you to do something for me, Lawt?” Erik asked.

“Always.”

“Keep the teeth. Do you think I would be ashamed to be seen with you?” Erik paused, unsure if he could keep down his emotion. “You are the best man I know, and I proudly call you my brother. I will never be embarrassed about you. You shouldn’t feel guilty for being you.”