Bandages

The next morning Jorlin was awoken by her mother shaking her shoulder.

“Wake up! There’s a huge mess downstairs from last night that you still need to clean up before we open.”

Jorlin groaned; it was so early. “The blood isn’t going to come off the floorboards,” she stated groggily.

“You’re going to try anyway,” her mother said sternly as Jorlin sat up in bed. “Now scoot. You’ve got half an hour to get the downstairs in shape.”

It took several minutes for her to be awake and in the bar. The sun hadn’t even risen yet. First, she swept up the shards of the mug she had smashed over the soldier’s head the day before, recalling the strength her rage had lent her. It was almost frightening to be aware of the extent her passion could drive her. Next, she got to work scrubbing the blood-stained floorboards, even though she knew it was a futile attempt. The stains faded somewhat, but it was still obvious they were there. When she was nearly done, her mother came down the stairs to inspect her work.

“These stains still look foul,” she said, pointing to one with her shoe as Jorlin stacked the shelf behind the counter with mugs.

“I tried, but none of them came out completely,” Jorlin replied, struggling to keep her temper under control.

“You didn’t try hard enough! I’m going to have to get the carpenter to replace these boards. I can’t run a business with the place looking like this. You have five minutes to be either upstairs or out the door; opening time’s approaching,” her mother said before ascending the stairs.

Jorlin quickly ran into the kitchen once her mother was gone, grabbing a handful of bandages in the back and a couple loaves of bread. She didn’t bother getting any meat; Tholan wouldn’t have much trouble obtaining that. She snatched some vegetables, then put all the items in an empty potato sack. She headed out the door with the sack in her arms, hoping her parents wouldn’t notice the slight lack of belongings.

It was colder than she expected, and Jorlin immediately regretted not bringing her cloak, but it was too late to go back inside without her mother scolding her. The dead leaves on the ground scuttled across the path, riding the wind, as she set off at a jog. The air was cold, crisp, and refreshing. She slowed down to a walk when she entered the northern expanse of the woods where Tholan’s tree stand was. At least, that’s where it was when he showed her and Asher several years ago. She and Asher were only around twelve years old, making the event roughly five years ago.

“I built this myself,” Tholan had said, nineteen and headstrong, puffing out his chest. “I shoot deer from it, then skin ‘em and eat ‘em.”

She and Asher were awed at the time, and for a while they had looked up to Tholan, following him around like ducklings would a mother. When Asher came of age, he became

independent of Tholan, and Jorlin followed his example, she and Asher sparring loudly behind her house while Tholan silently hunted in the woods, growing more and more distant from the two.

That memory seemed like decades ago to Jorlin now as she strode under the canopy of autumn colors, dry leaves crunching under her boots. She doubted that the tree stand even still existed, but if there was anywhere for her to look for him it was there. About twenty minutes passed, and the sun began to rise, throwing long, jagged shadows on the ground.

“You walk so loudly I could track you down during a new moon,” came a voice from ahead. The voice unmistakably belonged to Tholan.

“Well how do you expect me to walk with these leaves everywhere?” she retorted.

“Silently.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No, it’s not.”

Jorlin followed his voice to the same tree stand where she had been five years ago. It was basically the same structure, but pieces of wood had been added to modify it and support the old pieces underneath. It was almost invisible, as it had vines growing up the side and branches partially covering up the wooden sides. He had built a slanted roof over the basic floor of it so that there was a long, narrow opening going all the way along the side.

Tholan stuck his head out. “You better have a good reason for scaring all the animals off,” he said.

She held up the sack. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

He grinned. “Come on up.” He disappeared, and then a ladder lowered onto the ground from the hole in the bottom of the stand.

Jorlin trotted over and climbed up. The ladder was old and unstable. She was surprised at how cozy it felt when she climbed into the structure, not unlike a child’s tree house.

“Nice tree stand,” she commented as Tholan pulled the ladder back up.

There wasn’t much room in there, and it wasn’t tall enough for her to stand up quite all the way; she had to lower her head a bit when she was upright. The ladder managed to fit in the structure lengthwise. There was a chest in the corner, with a pile of pelts, leather, and thread beside it. More pelts were tacked to the walls. He set his dilapidated spare bow and quiver next to him as he sat down on the chest.

Jorlin held out the sack to him, and said, “I brought this for you.”

He grinned and took it from her, peeking inside to see what was in it. “Wow, thanks, Jorlin,” he said.

She leaned forward and took one of the bandages out. “I’ll probably need to re-dress that wound of yours.”

Tholan shrugged, taking off his boot and rolling up his pant leg. “Probably.”

The bandage that Jorlin had applied the day before was caked with dry blood, and the

edges were yellowish from puss. Her stomach did a somersault, but she forced herself to remain

stone-faced.  

“I could do this myself, you know,” he said.

“It’s best if you don’t do it yourself. It’s easier this way,” she replied, taking the end of the bandage between her fingers.

He gritted his teeth as she slowly peeled off the bandage, which was harder than she anticipated as the layers were crusted together. When the last of it came off, so did part of the scab, and fresh blood dripped down his leg.

“This needs to be stitched,” she managed to say as she looked away for a second.

“It’ll be fine,” he brushed it off.

She dabbed at the wound with the fresh bandage, then wrapped it around his leg, trying her best not to cause him too much pain.

“When do you think you’ll be able to run again?” she asked, sitting back as he rolled down his pant leg and laced on his boot.

He shrugged, looking down. “Do you remember when I first built this place?”

She smirked, then answered, “Aye, I do. You took me and…” Her voice faltered, but she forced herself to continue, angry at herself for appearing weak. “…Asher to go see it.”

He nodded, his smile fading somewhat when her words hesitated.

She continued, “I knew this is where I could find you, if anywhere.”

Tholan leaned back, stretching out his injured leg and propping himself up on his arms. “This has been a good place for hunting.” He paused, then added, “And hiding.”

“Do you think Slater will really go through all that trouble just to draft you, one person?” she asked. She hated to bring it up, but she couldn’t help herself.

Tholan gazed out the opening and replied, “Slater, he’s like a spoiled child. When he wants something he makes sure that he gets it. It’s not if he’ll come get me, it’s a matter of when.”

“Don’t say that.” Jorlin hated how her voice sounded. “Please don’t.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Tholan asked, turning his line of sight to her, a pained expression on his face. “Do you want me to lie and tell you that Slater’s just going to let me roam a free man? I don’t know about you, but I’d rather get the hard truth than a comforting lie. I’m telling you the truth when I say it’s only a matter of time before I go off to war.”

Jorlin locked her jaw shut, desperately fighting the tears pooling in her eyes. She swallowed, hoping to make the lump in her throat go away. “It’s just that I don’t know if I could bear losing another friend.”

His expression softened. “You can always just go on and live a perfectly normal life.”

The tears in her eyes cleared somewhat, and she replied, “How can I live a normal life when I’m not a normal person?”

A puzzled look came over Tholan’s face.

Jorlin sighed, “I don’t behave like the other girls my age; I can’t. I never have. That’s probably why my mother treats me like a disappointment. Who can blame her? All she wanted

was a daughter that acted like a lady, and look who she got instead.”

“If your mother doesn’t accept you for who you are, then that’s her problem,” Tholan replied.

“No, it’s my problem. It’s my fault that I want to be something more than what she had planned for me.”

Tholan paused, pensive, and then said, “A girl like you could easily live a simple life.”

“That’s the problem!” Jorlin replied tiredly. “Everyone always tells me it’s all ‘grow up, get married, have kids, then work till you die.’”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“There’s more to life than that! No one was ever extraordinary by being normal. Now with everyone being taken away it doesn’t even seem like there’s a point anymore in simply being.”

Tholan’s face suddenly became intense with an emotion she couldn’t recognize. “Don’t ever say that. Don’t,” he commanded, but the last word sounded more like a plea. “There’s always something to live for; you just have to find out what that reason is sometimes.”

Jorlin sighed, then mumbled, “I know.”

“When the war ends Asher and I will simply return to Auld Town and things will be the same as they always were before,” said Tholan, his words more optimistic than his voice.

She said nothing, staring out the opening at the fall foliage and dying flora.

“How long do you think it will be?” Jorlin asked after a few minutes of silence.

He didn’t have to ask what she was talking about. “A few days. A week if I’m lucky.”

“Do you think he’s going to burn down the tavern?” she asked, the words spilling out of her mouth before she could check them.

His eyes were full of pity, but he didn’t answer.

“I’d rather get the hard truth than a comforting lie,” his former words echoed in her head.

She nodded and remained emotionless as she stated, “So be it.”

He responded in a lighter tone, “You could always just set up shop here.” He smirked, searching her face.

Tholan had a knack for cheering her up. A smile tugged at her lips, but she forced it down.

“Aw, come on, it’s alright to smile every now and then,” he said. “See?” he forced a huge, cheesy grin on his face.

A smile finally broke free on Jorlin’s face, and she chuckled.

“Was it really that hard?” he asked with a smile.

She didn’t answer and only smiled and looked at the wood floor.

“Don’t you usually run the bar around this time?” he asked.

“I did,” she answered, eager for a topic change. “But I’m not allowed to anymore, after last night.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Jorlin,” he apologized.

“No, don’t worry about it,” she responded. “It’s dull work anyway. Plus I don’t want to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t intervened.”

“So what are you going to do with your extra time now?” he asked, sitting up more and putting his elbows on his thighs.

“Extra time?” she laughed. “I have just as much work as ever. My parents have me running errands around town all day. But I’ll come visit you, of course, if you don’t mind me scaring off the animals,” she added playfully.

“I guess I could stand it,” he replied with a smirk.

“Seriously, though, if there’s ever anything you need, anything at all, I’m willing to help,” she said. “I know you can’t get anywhere far with your leg being in the state that it’s in.”

“Well…” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. It must have been sore from him sleeping in there the night before. “I know I can’t go back to live in my house; Slater’s going to find out soon that I live there. Do you think you could get some clothes from my house and bring them back here, if you’re feeling up to it?”

“Yeah, sure,” she replied with a smile. “It’s better than all the errands my parents want me to run.”

“You know which one’s mine, right?” he asked.

“Aye, I remember,” she answered, already standing up and grabbing the ladder to lower down. “Want me to get all the clothes?”

“As many as you can carry. Just make sure no one’s following you when you enter the woods.”

“Alright. See you in a while,” Jorlin said as the ladder thudded on the forest floor below.

“Farewell,” he called after her as she climbed down.

She set off at a light jog eastwards toward the center of town. Hopping over logs and dodging tangles of thorns, she held up her dress as she bounded between the trees. It was several minutes before she broke free of the woods and came upon the path that ran through town. By then she began to hear loud shouts coming from near the center. Her curiosity made her increase her speed. Something strange mingled with the chilly air as she passed the first couple houses in town, and Jorlin inhaled deeply, slowing to a walk. Her heart began to race faster when she recognized the scent as smoke, and cries of “Fire!” rang out from up ahead. She took off, her boots kicking up dirt as she sped into the town center, which wasn’t much more than several houses surrounding a well. Tholan’s small house, set apart from the others by several hundred yards, was completely in flames.

No, she thought, then yelled aloud, “No!”

Serfs had given up trying to extinguish the fire, empty pails by their feet as they stared up at the blaze reaching up into the sky. A small crowd had gathered, some talking loudly while others remained quiet.

“Hey, you,” Jorlin said to a woman nearby with an aged face and dark hair. “What’s

this about? Who did this?”

“Some say it’s Slater’s doing,” she replied curtly, seemingly annoyed at Jorlin’s questions. “Personally, I don’t see why he’d bother with us serfs.”

Even though the hot flames that danced towards the sky were right in front of her, her brain had trouble processing what she saw. How was she going to tell Tholan? Now he had nothing left. Not only was this a message to him, but it was a statement to the rest of Auld Town as well; this is what happens when people get in Slater’s way.

A word caught her attention: “tavern.”

She looked around to see who had said it, but it was hard to pick out one conversation amongst the others.

Suddenly, the phrase, “They headed over to the tavern!” pierced the air.

Shouts and commotion stirred up the crowd, and a few children ran westward in the direction of her home. Jorlin’s heart dropped to her feet and her pulse sped, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Slater hadn’t burned down the tavern; he couldn’t. Somehow, even though her mind refused to believe it, her legs hesitantly began to stagger westwards. She couldn’t go home; she was afraid of what she’d find waiting there. The instinct that told her to go where she couldn’t dare was too powerful, and before she was fully aware of what was happening the trees beside the road were whizzing by and cold air was pumping in and out of her lungs as she tore down the path. She had never run that fast down the path in her whole life. Adrenaline gave wings to her feet.

Before she’d even rounded the last bend in the path, Jorlin’s nostrils burned from the smell of smoke. A cloud of it billowed into the sky up ahead. She dashed around the curve in the path, and her knees went weak when she saw the sight of her home consumed by flames.

A strangled cry escaped her lungs, and she fell onto her hands and knees before she came to a stop. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears as she numbly stared at the orange tongues of fire that hungrily lapped at the sky. Her house was beyond saving now. Anything inside would already be in ashes.

It felt like her eardrums burst as a huge explosion echoed off of the hills in the distance, and a wall of heat struck her. When she looked up, Jorlin realized that the barrels of beer had exploded, and there was a gaping hole in the structure where the kitchen used to be. Somehow what she was witnessing didn’t seem real. How could it be?

Father, she suddenly thought, getting to her feet. Mother.

Were they in there? Had they gotten out? Were they safe? A thousand questions whizzed through her already confused mind, and she looked around desperately. They had to be alive. They couldn’t be dead. Tears welled in Jorlin’s eyes, and a lump formed in her throat. She felt like a little girl, lost without her parents. Maybe they really had died. It was her fault. Jorlin sniffed, and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. She hated that she let a tear spill out onto her cheek and drip off her jaw.

“Jorlin?”

She frantically turned around, hope making her heart soar.

Her father was standing there, his face full of relief.

“Father!” she exclaimed, and ran into his waiting arms.

She didn’t remember the last time she embraced him. She must have only been a child. He put his heavy hand on her head, and she closed her eyes to try to blink out the tears. He smelled like smoke and something else. Sweat?

“You’re safe,” he breathed.

Jorlin drew back and asked, “Where’s mother?” She hoped she wasn’t going to get the answer she secretly suspected would come her way.

“She… she’s headed over to the town center,” he replied.

She let out the breath that she had been holding in. “Why?”

“To make traveling arrangements,” came his answer.

“What?”

“We’ll talk about it later,” he replied sternly.

Jorlin turned back around to watch the wraith-like flames engulf her house, or what remained of it. Now it was just a charred skeleton. She could feel the heat of the fire against her cheeks.

“Where are we going to stay?” Jorlin heard herself ask.

“With Asher’s family.”

She winced. The sound of his name was like opening an old scab. That, paired with the fact that she was watching her own house burn down, suddenly made it difficult to breathe. She managed to nod.

“I’ll,” she paused to take a breath. “I’ll see you there. This evening.”

Her father didn’t respond, and she heard him begin to trudge northeastwards. No one else was around once the sound of his footsteps faded. It was only Jorlin, faced with a bonfire of everything she owned. It felt like a shard of her sanity was being eroded away at the same time.

Too weak and too tired to stand, Jorlin dropped to the ground. As the horror settled in combined with the thick layer of smoke coming from the house, she began to find it difficult to breathe. Short, shallow gasps sharply filled her lungs and then were promptly forced out, making her body shake. An acute sense of desolation ate away at her. She had lost so much. First Asher, and now her own home.

Slater. His name, like a curse, echoed in the back of her head. Slater was the one that took Asher away from her. Slater was the one that had burned her own home to the ground. He was the one that had stolen anything good from her grasp. He deserves to die, she suddenly thought.

All her grief and agony rolled back, replaced by a frightening amount of rage. She dug her fingers into the dirt as she finally regained her breath, and she clenched her teeth. She had never been this angry before. It shocked her to know that this much anger was even possible. Her hands clenched into white-knuckled balls, and she got to her feet. Abruptly, she remembered Tholan, whom she had temporarily forgotten. Without a second thought, she took off running northwards, back towards his tree stand.

The lack of sleep had taken its toll on her. That much running in one day made her

lungs more eager for air than normal, and her legs stumbled and ached. Several minutes later, when she could just make out Tholan’s tree stand through the trees ahead, her feet were throbbing and her lungs screamed for air. She had to stop. For the longest time she stood leaning forward with her hands on her knees, panting for oxygen. Under normal circumstances she would easily be able to run that much.

What’s wrong with me?

Her knees gave out, and her legs smashed into the ground, followed by her body. Leaves and sticks crunched and snapped under her, twigs poking into her side. Jorlin felt utterly helpless as she gulped air. She felt so tired. All she wanted to do was go to sleep, but her brain was working overtime, and she knew that sleep would be impossible. That knowledge made her feel even more exhausted.

Eventually, after what felt like near to an hour, her breathing slowed down to a relatively normal rate. Her joints ached, and her body was growing numb from the cold ground. She had been lying there, motionless, for a long while. Slowly, painfully, Jorlin pushed herself to a kneeling position, dead leaves crunching. The arm she had been laying on was scratched by the stick she fell on. Jorlin picked out the leaves stuck in her hair, and pushed herself to her feet, even though her knees ached and her head pounded. Right now she had to focus on getting to Tholan. After that… she didn’t want to think that far ahead.

Loudly, she stumbled between the trees and over to the base of the tree stand.

“Jorlin?” came Tholan’s voice from above.

“It’s me,” she croaked.

She heard him shuffle around before the ladder lowered to the forest floor. When Jorlin had climbed up and pulled the ladder back into the stand, she knew Tholan could tell that something was wrong.

“You’re flushed,” he commented.

Jorlin lay down on her back tiredly, glad to finally be able to rest.

“Something’s happened,” he said from where he sat nearby, his wounded leg stretched out.

She nodded groggily.

“Well?” he asked.

“I-…” Jorlin inhaled shakily and covered her face with her hands. “Slater. He… he burned down your house.”

“Great God,” he breathed.

“And mine.”

A bewildered silence fell over both of them. Jorlin began to wonder if she was simply having another nightmare, but the ache in her joints felt too real. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing. To stay sane, she had to limit her world to the rising and falling of her chest as she

naturally inhaled and exhaled while lying on her back. That was about the only thing she could handle at that point.

She let a shaky breath escape her lungs and she murmured, “I can’t do this, Tholan.”

“Don’t worry about anything right now. Just stay here,” he said after a pause.

“I can’t!” she quaked. “This- everything is my fault.”

“No. Stop. Don’t say that.”

“It’s true, and you know it,” she said louder.

Tholan replied, “Just settle down. You can worry about everything else later. You look exhausted. Rest.”

Jorlin normally would have chuckled. “Exhausted” was an understatement.

“I have to go to my parents this evening,” she argued. “I can’t rest. I’m going to fall asleep.”

“I’ll wake you up. Go to sleep,” he responded gently, a soft but fake smile on his face.

She began to stutter, “But-…”

“Hush. It’ll be fine. I won’t let anything happen,” came Tholan’s mild reply.

Jorlin’s eyelids were heavy, and her body exceptionally weary. It only took a few minutes for the tender sighing of the autumn wind to ease her into a deep sleep.

When something nudged her side, Jorlin woke up with a jolt, an uncertain urgency sending a surge of adrenaline through her body. As she glanced around, she realized she was in Tholan’s tree stand, and her breaths gradually slowed down to normal.

“Sorry,” Tholan muttered, leaning back after pushing her awake. “I promised I’d wake you.”

The memories of the day flooded her mind, and she wished she was still asleep.

“What time is it?” she asked, her voice groggy.

“About five.”

“I should get going,” she replied, forcing herself to stand up. Darkness was going to fall soon, and Jorlin didn’t want to end up in the woods alone during the night. As she lowered the ladder to the ground she added, “You should come with me.”

“I can’t.”

“Winter is approaching. You can’t stay out here in the woods forever, or you’ll freeze to death.”

“And I’ll also probably get caught faster if I go any nearer to town. Just worry about yourself for now, alright? A lot’s happened,” he replied.

Jorlin didn’t answer, and instead she began to climb down. Before her head disappeared under the floor, she said, “Take care of yourself. I’ll do my best to come visit you.”

“Farewell,” he called down after her.

It took longer than usual for Jorlin to reach the center of town. She was too tired to jog the whole way. When she approached Asher’s house, her mother ran out to her. She wrapped her

arms around her daughter, but Jorlin felt too numb to hug her back. The sun was just beginning to set, and Jorlin stared at the long, eerie shadows of her and her mother. She was too tired to cry. Crying wouldn’t fix anything anyway. The smell of smoke still hung in the evening air, even though Tholan’s house had been reduced to ashes a while ago.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” her mother said.

Jorlin said nothing.

When her mother drew away, they both wordlessly entered the house. Her father and Asher’s parents were sitting in the sparsely furnished central room, talking gravely. When she entered the room they looked up at her for a few moments, then they returned to their conversation.

“You’ll sleep in here for tonight,” came her mother’s voice beside her.

“For tonight? What about the other nights?” Jorlin could sense that something was off.

For a moment, her mother remained silent. Then, “Come.”

She followed her mother into the kitchen, which was dim and only lighted by an old lantern. The strange lighting made the wrinkles in her mother’s face seem deeper than usual.

“What’s going on?” Jorlin asked.

Her mother seemed to struggle for words for a moment before she replied flatly, “You’re going to live with your uncle.”

“What?” Jorlin exclaimed. “You’re not serious? Clovis?” When her questions were answered by silence, she stated, “I refuse.”

“You’re going, and that’s final. I sent a messenger to Decaster Castle today, and I expect that tomorrow someone will be here to bring you there. It’s for your own good.”

“How can it be for my own good?” she demanded, infuriated. “I’ll only be miserable there! I’ve never even met your brother and I already don’t like him. What will I do there? Sit around all day? Or maybe I’ll live the rest of my days as a maid!”

“Stop!” her mother suddenly shouted, making Jorlin flinch. “You’ll have better opportunity there, more than you ever could here. You don’t even have a house here. Even though you don’t see it, this is the best thing for you. You’ve never known what’s best for you, but this is. I won’t argue with you over this anymore.”

“No! I’ll live in the woods if I have to!”

“You are going to your uncle, and you will obey me. Have I taught you nothing?”

“If I’ve been taught anything, it’s that Decaster Castle is the last place I need to go.”

“You’re going to go,” her mother snapped as she stomped out of the room.

Left alone in the dark kitchen, Jorlin slumped against the wall and rubbed her face with her hands. She felt exhausted. There would be no way she could run away; winter would likely make a corpse of her. The only option that seemed available was to comply with her mother’s wishes, even though the mere thought of living in a castle made her feel cramped. It was hard to think far ahead; her mind was still having difficulty processing the day’s events.