XXXII - In the Hospital

'Have you heard?’ Boudica sang as she rampaged through the back door of Yulla’s house, her smile broad, her eyes wide and glinting.

‘No,’ Yulla said impatiently, hiding her sullen frown, keeping her back to the room as she washed dishes.

‘They've found some men, men alive under those heaps of bodies after all this time’ she said with a flash of morbid glee. The great battle had been three weeks ago and the battlefield was still being cleared.

'Oh,’ Yulla said, trying to take no notice and concentrate on her dark illogical thoughts.

'Yes, four or five of them, two or three Italias and two or three of ours,'

'Who are they, does anyone know?’ she asked drearily, imagining five flattened, thin men, bloodied and mangled.

'No, that’s just it they're in such a bad way no one has been able to identify them,' With a shockwave of sudden realisation that hit her like a block of concrete Yulla let a large plate slide out of her grip into the soapy water and in a trance like state dried her hands on a kitchen cloth. She leant against the back of a chair and faced the light of the room as her mind went into overdrive.

‘Whatever is the matter with you?’ she faintly heard Boudica say with mocking laughter. A sweat ran over her as she went hot and cold. It could be? No, but it could be, be him, it might be him. It might be Bezon. She looked at her friend who was smiling at her. No, it couldn’t be. Absent-mindedly she adjusted herself, pushing a lock of hair over her ear and brushing her dress free of creases that weren’t there, she looked around for a mirror. Bezon could be alive, there was a chance, an outside chance however slim. She felt hot, her facing flushing red, she fanned it with her hand.

Boudica came close to her ‘Something is definitely amiss,’ she put her arm around her and looked into her eyes that were flooding full of tears.

Yulla pulled away from her. ‘Your chariot, how fast does it go?'

'Very fast, Yulls. Why?' she said calmly.

'I need to get to the hospital,'

'Oh right, do you now,’ Boudica said in a sing song tone.

'Now, Boudica, now, for the gods sakes,' she said pushing her roughly out the back door.

The furious ride to the hospital was a bone shaking blur of trees, fields and the debris of battle along the uneven stoney track. In the ditches along the way there were men who lay exactly as they had died three weeks before, frozen in time. The two women stood side by side in silence, one close, one far away.

After the battle Yulla had searched the battlefields, searched the hospital and searched the kingdom, but Bezon had been nowhere to be found. She was quite rightly looking for a thirty-five year old man, stocky, under six foot, with long brown hair, but unknown to her his appearance had changed dramatically. Her mind was cast back to their last time alone together in the orchard and how open she had been with him and how she wished things had gone further. She recalled these last moments so often, it felt like torture. There was no bringing back a dead man, and what was was was, she knew she just had to be grateful for what she had had.

‘Still dreaming?’ Boudica shouted over the clatter of the reins and horse hooves. Yulla didn’t reply. ‘Of him?’ she provoked.

‘Huh, yes, but I was thinking about the week ahead,’ she lied. Looking out at the fields either side of the track there were people getting back to their normal working lives, they were gathering crops that had been left to waste, mending fences and making scattered livestock safe. As the chariot rolled on with its military feel she fantasised being a warrior like Boudica, going into battle and risking her life, but she hadn’t been, she had done nothing but run. She imagined facing the seething mass of enemy soldiers and started to feel sick. How had Boudica done it?

‘Don’t waste your time on him, there are plenty of other of birds in the trees,’ Boudica said looking up in the branches.

‘Yes, I know,’ Yulla said, her head down. The track became a flatter road and they picked up more speed. ‘Come on, let’s get there,’

‘All right, all right,’ Boudica said cracking the whip over the horses. They lunged forward and Yulla gripped the side as the makeshift hospital loomed into view. It consisted of some outhouses at the back of the castle that had been partly destroyed by the trebuchet bombardment with their exposed walls covered with large canvases. As the chariot slowed to a halt, Yulla jumped off towards the nearest outhouse. Standing outside it was a nurse with a blood-stained white dress, she looked up at Yulla, but didn’t smile or react, her face in a frown.

‘I’m looking for the ones they found the other day,’ Yulla said to her over the low moans of pain and discomfort that came from the building, there was occasional screaming and shouting.

‘Oh yeah,’ the woman said, she looked over Yulla’s shoulder at Boudica on her chariot. ‘Tell her the war’s over will you,’ she laughed.

‘The ones buried under bodies,’

‘They’re in the main castle, we ran outta room here,’ the woman said fighting off a yawn. A loud gurgling scream came from the building and Yulla listened in alarm and looked at the woman, her face white and wide-eyed with shock. ‘They’re operating,’

Yulla and her friend found their way to the ward in the castle and at its entrance a nurse sat at a desk, writing. ‘Yes’, can I help?’ the nurse said, not looking up. Her white dress was not blood-stained, it was clean and fresh.

‘I’m looking for the men they found buried,’

‘They're through there, but don’t wake them, if they’re asleep please,’

‘I may know one of them though,’ Yulla said. Boudica laughed. They could see most of the ward, the rows of stretcher beds with the dead, the fatally injured and the ones that were making a slow recovery, and there in one corner were those recently brought in from under the heaps of bodies, they were in a separate section of the ward. There were two Italia soldiers, still in their bloodied uniforms, lying motionless under hessian blankets, they were breathing heavily and were morbidly pale. A Briton next to them, looked white and near death, he let out a cry of pain every so often and a nurse would come and look at him and console him, wipe his brow and check his temperature. In the last bed a grey-haired old man lay asleep, his head was bandaged, as was most of his body and he had scars across what was visible of his face. He was thin and ancient looking, he looked a hundred years old if that was possible.

All was over, all was lost she thought, Bezon wasn’t here. This changed everything, her life would be so different now, she would stay a spinster or be persuaded to marry a boring, ordinary man, she didn’t like, let alone love, she would have to have his children and live in a long loveless marriage. She sauntered out of the ward and sat on a stool in the corridor outside with her head in her hands, the tears rolling down her face.

‘Come on, let’s go, Yulla,’ Boudica said standing over her protectively.

Yulla was going to go, but something stopped her. ‘Give me a few moments,’

‘I’ll wait outside, but don’t be long,’

The demons in her mind rushed in as she thought of the meaningless future life she would now have. What was the point in going on? The rushing waters seemed ever more attractive, they would take her and it would all be over quickly. Through the darkness of her hands she imagined that fast moving part of the river amid the sound of slow shuffling feet and looking up she saw the old man, he had got out of his bed and was standing a few feet away. The old man looked at her then took a few more steps towards her. He was crumpled and walked with a stoop; his physique frail. He took part of his bandage off to reveal a bloodshot brown eye. Her face creased in horror and she wanted to scream as he starred at her. She was going to call a nurse, but then…

‘Is it you?’ he asked her simply, his breath getting heavy as though just to speak was taking all his energy. She didn’t reply. ‘Because it is me,’

Her mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out. He opened his hand and there sitting on his palm of it was the amulet. The necklace part was broken, but the blue centre stone shone brightly. Where had this…old…man got it from? she thought as her eyes traced his face and body for any signs of recognition. He was a beaten down version of the strong, handsome warrior Prince who had gone away who somehow did have some of the look of a Bezon, but the man she saw was broken and aged. She couldn’t believe it could possibly be…

‘It’s me,’ he said smiling shakily with more certainty, pointing to his chest. He held the amulet up to her, smiling, showing the gaps in his blackened teeth. The deep scars on his face and neck made him difficult to look at. He shuffled closer, frozen solid, she didn’t move. ‘I know I am ugly now,’

‘Is it you?’ she gasped, her brow creased in a deep frown. Most of his hair was grey, but some was brown and so was the one blood shot eye. ‘Is it really you, Bezon?’

‘Yes,’ he said shrugging, making himself wobble on his feet.

She wanted to laugh at that, but managed to stop herself. She went to him and kissed him, but it was awkward and formal. ‘No,’ she whispered as she took in his familiar smell through the overpowering aroma of ointments and potions they had applied to him. She pressed herself to him and although the force was minimal, he nearly fell backwards. Losing his balance, he staggered back and sat on a chair. ‘Sorry,’

‘It’s my head,’ he said. ‘It’s throbbing like mad, they haven’t given me long,’

‘Sorry,’ she repeated as a wave of happiness and concern ran around her whole body, she felt relief and started to laugh and cry at the same time. Her heart raced, she felt numb and light-headed as the shock of it hit her. She gasped, putting her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. It was him, it was. There was so much to tell, if he didn’t know already, but it would be too much now he was still recovering. Duerra and Alfos were dead, Caratacos had suddenly re-appeared and was assuming control, he was now considered to be king by many and that wouldn’t go down well. As a person of great interest, Wiznia was captured and taken back to Rome. The army of Italia were gone, they were re-building Arun. All of that news at once. She couldn’t stop smiling as she sat next to him.

‘I thought you were dead, everybody kept telling me you were,’

‘So did I, I stared it in the face enough times,’

‘For so long, I thought you were dead,’

‘I was so lucky, I had to write to my father and brother to tell them I wasn’t dead,’

‘Yes, the gods must’ve been looking over you,’ she said, her eyes dropping to the floor.

‘But look at me, I am a broken man now,’

‘You don’t look the same,’

‘They haven’t given me long to live,’ Bezon said coughing loudly, he drew breath, choking up blood and phlegm.

‘I wasn’t expecting this,’ she said through her rolling flood of tears.

Boudica came in. ‘Come on, I need to get going now,’ she said. She motioned aggressively with her hand, but stopped to look at them and their body language, at Yulla’s misplaced smile. Bezon slowly looked up at her and managed a faint smile. ‘Who is this? and what’s the matter with you?’ the nurse came to see what was happening.

‘Tell them,’ Bezon whispered to her. ‘Tell them who I am,’

Author's Note

Two more chapters

Reviews

[wuliheron]

Good work, but it drives me a little crazy. Its analog logic that reminds me of my sister, who tends to tell stories without end, that have no ending, such as, "First I drove to the store, then I bought some eggs, the cashier said good morning, and I drove around the block...." It also reminds me of the music of Suzan Vega, very Buddhist.

[Ufi Auttorri ~ UfoAutho..]

Excellent ... keep writing.

[BL]

Thank you, I have reviewed one of yours 😊 keep writing