“Rodgard’s taken the supplies up the mountain,” Koradan said as she arrived. Well, that would explain the absence of the third vreki. Telling the creatures apart was easier than recognising the demons, largely because each of the vreki had distinct colours and markings on its saddle. Lynette recognised the blue streaks on Bnaa’s saddle from last night, and she’d watched from a distance this morning as Koradan had helped Paul mount Ashd. Koradan’s vreki had two bright yellow circles on the back of his saddle, which stood out easily in the sunlight.
“Rodgard was the one who volunteered earlier, was he?” Lynette asked, keeping her temper under better control this time. She just had to treat the vreki and be on her way. She could put aside her dislike of Koradan for that long.
“He was,” Koradan confirmed, leading the way over towards Bnaa. Another demon was waiting by his side, but Lynette paused as she saw that he’d removed his armour. Koradan still wore his – a breastplate and vambraces, though he had nothing more on his legs than his buckskin pants. Underneath the armour, the demons apparently wore nothing at all. Lynette’s gaze travelled over the demon’s body, noting the splotches of crimson splattered over his shoulders and chest.
She frowned at the red marks. “That’s not blood, is it?” she asked.
The demon looked down at himself in surprise. “What? No. It’s… That’s just my skin,” he said, sounding confused.
“Salas blood is black,” Koradan told her.
“Yeah, that figures,” she snapped back at him. Black blood, black hearts, black everything. “Sorry, I just… I thought you were black all over.”
Koradan shrugged. “Most salases have red markings over their torsos. Some even have red tips on their horns. It’s considered a mark of beauty among our people.”
Beauty? “I’m not going to respond to that one,” Lynette said, not caring if it sounded rude. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name,” she said to the second demon.
“I’m Melowin,” the demon said. Then he grinned. “And you’ll be relieved to know that we find you just as ugly as you find us.” He winked at her, jutting out his jaw as if to make his tusks all the more prominent.
“Oh, for Alfrix’s sake, don’t start flirting with her,” Koradan grumbled. “Can we just get Bnaa over here to fix his wing?”
“I’m not flirting with her,” Melowin said, with that same grin on his face. “I’m just saying hello.”
The idea of a demon flirting with her made Lynette feel… bashful.Uneasy, she mentally replaced the word. There was nothing at all appealing about a seven foot monster with horns. And giant teeth. And bulging muscles that looked like they could snap her in half.Or lift her off the ground like she was a feather. Just like Kai used to do, all those years ago.And then there were those eyes that almost glowed with an amber light, peering into her soul in a way that seemed to know far too much about her.
Lynette turned away from Melowin hastily. “How’s the wound this morning? Any sign of infection?” She wasn’t expecting anyone to have checked since she’d bandaged it last night, all ready to give the pair of them a scolding for not taking proper care of the wound.
“I had a look just after breakfast,” Melowin said. “It was seeping a bit, but it’s clear fluid. If it was infected, I’d expect to see a cloudy green.”
There went her carefully nurtured indignation. “Let’s take the bandage off and have a look.” She waited while Bnaa lumbered over and presented his wing, then Melowin unwrapped it. Surprisingly enough, it was actually looking better, the flesh surrounding the tear a little less swollen. “I’m going to need one of you to hold the flap in place while I stitch it,” Lynette said, not really caring which of them did the job. Or she’d thought she didn’t care, until Koradan stepped up close to the front of Bnaa’s wing, taking a gentle hold of the torn flap. “Melowin needs to keep Bnaa calm,” he said, by way of explanation. “This is going to be sore for him.” That was all well and good, but now she had to stand barely a foot away from Koradan for the whole time it took to do this. And she would probably have to touch him, as they manoeuvred their hands around each other to each do their part of the job.He’s a demon,she told herself firmly. He’s a demon and he’s evil. Not kind, not nice, not good. Just a demon. You can do this. It’s fine.
“Okay. Are you ready?” she asked Melowin, who had gone around to Bnaa’s head and was stroking his nose.
“You ready, buddy?” Melowin asked Bnaa. The vreki shook his head, then rubbed it against Melowin’s shoulder. “Yeah, he’s ready.”
“I thought he just said no?” Lynette said. The vreki had shaken his head.
“Nah, he just wants a hug. He’s good to go.”
Deciding not to dwell on the details, Lynette got to work. The stitches went in smoothly, even through the thick skin of Bnaa’s wing. She placed a row around the edge of the tear on the upper side, then turned to Koradan, maintaining as much of a professional demeanour as she could manage. “I’m going to have to get to the underside to stitch it there as well. Otherwise we risk the stitches pulling out.”
“Sure. Bnaa, lift up your wing,” Koradan said, prodding the vreki a little. Bnaa obediently lifted it, and then Lynette carefully went to work with the second row of stitches. With Koradan holding the wing up the way he was, it was impossible to avoid brushing against him now and then, and when he had to hold a particularly troublesome flap of skin for her, Lynette was forced to lean her hand against his to get the stitches in place. His skin was smooth and warm, his touch surprisingly gentle as he held the wound. All the jostling about had caused a trickle of blue blood to leak out, and Koradan mopped it up with a damp cloth, keeping the path clear for Lynette to place the next stitch.
Finally, they were done, a new bandage secured in place, and Lynette hastily retreated back to her bag of supplies. “All done,” she reported to Melowin, not looking up at him. “You’ll need to check it once a day to make sure it’s not infected, but hopefully it should heal well.”
“Bnaa says thank you,” Melowin told her. He was still rubbing the vreki’s head, and Bnaa seemed to be enjoying the massage.
“What do you mean, ‘Bnaa says thank you’?” Lynette asked, looking up. It would have made sense for Melowin to thank her, but phrasing it as coming from his vreki seemed a little odd.
“I mean, Bnaa told me to tell you he says thank you,” Melowin repeated, as if that explained anything.
“But he’s an animal. He’s not going to-”
“Vreki are telepathic,” Koradan told her. “We speak to them, they speak to us. They’re far more than just dumb animals.”
That stopped Lynette in her tracks. She looked over at Melowin again, seeing for perhaps the first time the tender concern on his face as he rubbed Bnaa’s head – an expression that was still very readable, despite the differences in his features as compared to a human. And it suddenly struck her how much these men cared for their mounts. Before, she’d assumed it was much like a soldier caring for his horse – a close bond, but in many ways, a one-sided one. A pet, not a person.
But if the salases could actually have conversations with the vreki…
