Chapter Six
My first thought was that there had been some kind of attack.
I sensed quick movement behind me. I wanted to hurl myself across Janos to get to Larz, in case this was some kind of attack.
I had some half-formed idea about wrestling him to the floor to get him out of harm’s way, like I was strong enough to wrestle him anywhere.
But I guess I wasn’t thinking all that straight and then before I could do anything, there was a meaty sounding thump and I heard Larz cry out.
That was followed by a loud thump, like someone fell onto the table in front of us.
I did move then, as fast as I could, pushing Janos, who had started to get up, back down in his chair so I could vault over him.
I managed to get to Larz, who was slumped across the table and threw myself over him.
He was trembling and moaning softly under me, so I raised up to call for help.
That’s when I felt a sudden sharp jab on my chest, just above my ribs.
Funny though, the place where I was stabbed began immediately burning, and I felt a cold, sickening pain deep inside me.
I felt my legs go a little weak and I stumbled back to fall down in a chair beside me and sagged to the side.
I tried to stand up again but found I couldn’t seem to sit up straight.
Only seconds later, the lights came back on and there was a lot of commotion everywhere.
I watched the frenzy around me like I was in a dream.
I couldn’t seem to think straight, or get breath to call out for help, and all the attention in the room was on Larz.
He was still lying sprawled out across the table with both arms stretched out in front of him.
Janos had managed to get by me and was bending over him, exclaiming softly and trying to pull him back up.
I had fallen down somehow into the chair he’d vacated.
I heard Blake’s cry from across the table and realized that people were running toward us.
As for me, I kept trying to stand up, but my body felt weird like it didn’t belong to me anymore and wouldn’t answer my commands.
The pain was pretty bad. I tried to push myself up again, but my arms felt like those noodles in the soup Vannos had sent up for us earlier, and I quickly collapsed back down.
Everyone’s attention was actually on Larz, and people were pushing in, putting themselves between me and him.
No one seemed to notice I was struggling, too dizzy and sick to call out for help.
Larz seemed to be coming around, blinking his eyes and trying to sit up.
Groaning, he put a hand to the back of his head, and when he pulled his hand away, it came back bloody.
I made another attempt to stand up, but my body wasn’t cooperating.
I touched the place I’d been stabbed, but a sudden cough took me by surprise, seeming to erupt from my chest and travel immediately to the red center of agony under my ribs.
A splatter of blood hit the table in front of me.
A feeling of profound weakness had begun seeping over me, and I found myself shivering uncontrollably.
Shock, a distant part of my brain was saying.
Someone leaned over me, taking my face in their hands and peering down at me. I turned to look up at whoever it was, startled to see that it was the Tygerian, General Vargarra. He was back in the room and bending over me, roughly pulling at my coat so he could see the wound.
“Who did this to you?”
“I don’t know,” I said, and my voice came out sounding tiny and unrecognizable, because I suddenly had no breath to spare for it.
“Be still and let me see,” his harsh voice said in my ear, as I put up a hand to show him where I was hurt.
I was surprised to find I was too weak to argue and just let him do what he wanted, suddenly picking me up in his arms like a doll.
He laid me on the table on my back, stripping off the coat and ripping away my bloody shirt.
Damn it, what was I going to tell Brytal about the shirt?
The general swore harshly under his breath as he examined me and yelled out something in Tygerian.
I heard a lot of shouting around me then, including Larz’s voice weakly calling my name, but I couldn’t seem to get my eyes to open back up fully so I could see what was happening.
The room started to get dark again—or maybe it was just me.
Suddenly, the general swung me up in his arms. I cried out, because it was dizzying and made me feel like I was going to throw up.
I could still hear shouting around me, and it was all too loud, too much, so I turned my head toward the general’s broad chest, closed my eyes and gave in to it all, just letting him take me wherever he wanted.
****
General Kirstos Vargarra
I hadn’t realized the Laltanan boy was so small until I picked him up in my arms to carry him to Lieutenant Worron, an Imperial soldier, who happened to be the best trauma medic on my service.
I was alarmed when I first noticed Taran slumped sideways in his chair and not responding to anything around him.
His eyes were open, but he wasn’t answering my questions, and he seemed to be on the verge of passing out.
I ripped off the ugly, heavy coat he was wearing to examine him more closely and that’s when I saw the wound, low on the left side of his chest. It had missed his heart, but it was a deep, gouging injury, as if someone had twisted the blade once it had been buried deep inside his flesh to inflict maximum injury.
He was losing an alarming amount of blood, and the blade must have nicked a lung, because I saw blood droplets speckling his lips and chin.
Many voices were shouting behind me, but I kept running toward Lt.
Worron—I could see him in a cluster of Imperial guards surrounding and guarding Prince Mikos and his consort.
He’d glanced up as I called his name and saw me hurrying toward him, carrying the boy.
He immediately started running to meet me.
I laid Taran on the table on his back, sweeping away some scattered papers with my hand as Worron joined me, shouting over his shoulder for someone to bring him his medic kit.
Medics like Worron carried extensive, mission-specific gear to treat trauma.
And because the Consort Blake and the Consort Ryan were both human, it was necessary when he was on a mission like this that he carry extra equipment specific to humans as well.
Taran’s anatomy was not significantly different from a human’s, though perhaps he was smaller.
Some of Worron’s core equipment consisted of various tourniquets, hemostatic gauze, chest seals, airway management tools and IV supplies made specifically for the consorts’ needs, not to mention fast acting drugs for pain and shock all designed to be used by humans or someone the same general size and physical makeup—like a Laltanan.
When extreme and sudden blood loss prevented blood from reaching vital organs in a human, it could lead to rapid death.
I suspected it was the same for Taran. I’d seen it before, when the body shut down so quickly, and I found that my hands were unaccountably shaky as I lowered Taran to the table and stepped back so Worron could treat him.
As I did, I was grabbed roughly from behind by a strong hand and whirled around to face an angry, alarmed Prince Larz, who had followed me and was trying to get past me to get to the boy that I now knew was his adopted son.
“What are you doing?” he shouted at me, his eyes wide as he tried to reach Taran. Considering the fact that he was bleeding from a wound on the back of his head, I was surprised to see him still on his feet.
“Why did you take my son? Vannos has sent for his physicians.”
“Your Highness,” I said, putting up a hand to stop him. “Allow my medic, Lt. Worron, to help him. He’s highly trained in emergency trauma care. He has special drugs and equipment brought along specially to treat the royal consorts and others with similar bodies, including Laltanans, like your son.”
His breathing steadied a little, but he was still glaring at me, trying to decide what was to be done.
“But…what do you mean?” Larz shouted at me.
He was swaying on his feet a bit, and his face was still distraught.
“He’s only a medic. Vannos has sent for his personal physicians.
Surely, they’d be better trained to help him. ”
“I’m sorry, Your Royal Highness, but in this case, I have to disagree.
A physician on Moravia treats Moravian and Tygerian patients with different anatomy from Taran’s.
Not significantly different, but enough that it takes specialized training.
My lieutenant can help him far more with his equipment designed for his particular needs until he stabilizes.
Please step back, sir, and let us help your son. ”
He still looked as if he wanted to argue, but help came from an unexpected source.
“Yes, General, go ahead and help him,” the Consort Janos said as he came up behind his husband. “Prince Larz isn’t thinking straight, and he needs attention too.”
He stretched out a trembling hand to me and his voice had a pleading, humble tone that I never would have expected from a man that I’d been told was arrogant and demanding—a man who had put our young prince in chains and made him a slave when he was first kidnapped and taken to the distant planet of Laltana. That was the story I’d heard, anyway.