Chapter 6 - When Anger Becomes a Fear

Anger can be either the means to an end, or the cause of a death. Choose wisely before you regret the decision.

W

hen the door opened, Landon was surprised to see Northern Pride Lander.  Hovering a few inches taller with sun bathed auburn skin and eerie silver eyes, the pride lander looked rather intimidating.

 Except to Landon. 

Cradling Fumiko closer to his chest, he met the taller man’s gaze. “I have a woman with me who is in critical condition, and another with a deep wound to her shoulder.  Both women have high fevers and are edging closer and closer to infection.”

          The Northerner moved his silver eyes to Fumiko’s ashen face, “Social standing?”

          Landon bit back a curse and the urge to slam his fist into the man’s face, “What does it matter?  I have the money to pay you for their treatment.  This one,” he gestured to Fumiko’s limp form in his arms, “won’t make it through the night if proper treatment is not received.”

          Bending, the Northerner lifted Fumiko’s shirt, exposing her wrapped torso and stained bandages.  Pulling her shirt back down, he took a step back and made a gesture with his hand, “Bring her in, I will see what I can do.”

          Eying the Northerner, Landon cautiously carried his little burden inside the doctor’s home.  Once inside, he took notice of their surroundings and of the small female standing in the hall before the entryway.

          Standing close to the same height as Miss. Fumiko, the women stayed in the hallway, eyeing both Landon and his little burden.  Wavy pale blond hair spilled past her shoulders, complementing her fair skin, and her eyes, a light shade of brown, gave her the appearance of a winged one.  Yet he was willing to bet a good sum of money, that she was far from innocent.  There was something about how she glared at him.  Returning his gaze to the Northerner, he followed the large man into a decent sized room, which sported a stone table, medical supplies, and herbs.

          The other man’s silver eyes roamed over Fumiko’s body as he began setting out instruments to treat her. “Her name?”

          Landon stiffened then narrowed his eyes at the doctor. “I believe if introductions are in order, you should be going first doc.  I’m about to trust this women’s life in your hands.”

          Shaking his head, which caused his braided raven hair to spill over his shoulders, he placed his hand over his heart, the normal way of introduction in the Northern Pride Lands. “I am Doctor Rakka Seori, and she,” he motioned to the beautiful fair skinned women in the hall, “is my wife, Mel.” The women named Mel moved over to her husband and pulled her golden hair into a messy, but secure bun atop her head.

          Gently setting Fumiko on the stone table before them, Landon smoothed back some of her hair that was sticking to her forehead. “Landon Savoir, and this,” he rested his hand on Fumiko’s head gently, “is Miss. Fumiko.  The smaller women outside, is Miss. Sabrina.  They’re outsiders.”

          After releasing the information that the two females were- indeed �"outsiders, he eyed Rakka and his wife.  Instead of taking steps back, or refusing them, the Seori’s pulled Miss. Fumiko’s shirt up and over her head, leaving her torso bare and reminding him of the severity of her wounds…

          “Landon, what are you-”

          At the sound of her voice, he turned to see Sabrina standing in the archway to the medical room, her eyes wide and her skin paler than he recalled. “Sabrina?” 

***

A

s Jiao got finished packing his potions and herbs, he heard the faint clicking of heeled shoes and got that familiar knot of dread in his stomach.  Feorah.  Turning, so as to not have his back exposed to the dangerous female, he wasn’t the least surprised when she barged into his tent with fury in her dark eyes. “Feorah, we’ve gone over this-”

“Jiao! Who are these women I heard the solders talking about?”

With her black and brown hair carefully styled in a ruby studded clip and make-up that made her lush lips even more so, and decked out in a skin tight red satin dress, Feorah was the embodiment of sin and temptation. 

  Except to him.

Landon.

And Brock.

“Feorah, calm down.” He said in his normal, collected voice.

“Calm down?  Calm down!  Noland, don’t you dare start with me!  I want their names!” If he didn’t know better, he would have told her to screw off.  Knowing how deadly that comment could be, he kept his lips sealed as she continued. “I heard Landon and Brock rescued two Outsider females.  Females!  Since when did Landon personally make sure Outsiders reached Haven?”

Jiao pinched the bridge in his nose, trying to relieve the building tension there. “Since one risked her life to defend her friend against Empire scumbags.  Look, Feorah, I get it.  You’re feeling a little butt hurt because Landon left before you could smother him with your annoying attention, but, like I always tell you, get over yourself.”

Mouth snapping shut with an auditable pop, the angered sorceress stormed out, her painful looking heels clicking with each stride.

Releasing a sigh, he rubbed his hands over his face and went back to packing his potions and herbs.  Hopefully Landon would be able to keep Feorah under a close eye and short leash.  Looking at the scar on his left arm, his velvet eyes narrowed.  The wench was freaking scary and a force to be feared, but if she touched a single hair on Sabrina’s head, he would end her.  Flat out.

No feelings of guilt either. 

***

L

ooking past Landon, Sabrina’s eyes landed on Fumiko’s exposed wounds. “Oh God.”

Fresh blood seeped from the large gash running down her torso, while the tattered skin harbored an inflamed glow.  She was fighting an infection… “Fumiko…” Touching her hand to her trembling lips, Sabrina fought back the urge to empty her stomach contents.

          Landon gently took her elbow in his hand and helped steady her.  She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the gore of her friend’s wounds.  When Landon started speaking to her, he had to step in her line of view for her to hear him. “Sabrina?”

          Feeling tears swimming in her eyes, she wiped them away, “W-What?”

          Still holding her elbow, he gently guided her out of the room and spoke to her quietly. “She’ll be fine.”

          She looked up at him, more tears swimming in her eyes.  She wanted to ask him if he was trying to make her feel better, but her lips couldn’t speak the question.

          “Let me see your shoulder again.”

          Sabrina blinked at him in confusion.  Narrowing her tearing eyes, she tried to pull her arm free from his grip.  She wanted to get back to Fumiko. “Why?  You’ve already seen it remember?  I want to be with Fumiko right now.”

          Landon shook his head slightly and released a sigh.  Before she realized what he was about to do, her shoulder brought a gasp of pain from her lips.  Snapping her eyes back to Landon, she glared at him through tear filled eyes. “Ow!” she hissed.

          He remained silent and urged her to sit down on one of the dining chairs, “I only cleaned it.  It needs to be mended back together or the damaged muscle won’t heal right and you will end up having a permanently damaged shoulder.”

          “Can’t this wait Landon?  I mean, really, Fumi needs me right-”

          Pulling a chair up in front of her, he seated himself and gently took her wounded arm in his hands. “She doesn’t need you right now Sabrina.  She needs a doctor that knows what they are doing.” His striking green eyes meet hers, “Letting me patch up your shoulder will not only help you, but make it less of an issue for when Fumiko wakes and learns of the wound.”

          Sabrina’s eyes widened in surprise. “You said you wouldn’t tell her!”

          Sighing, Landon slipped her half shirt over her head, and shifted her tank-top closer to her neck so he could better look at her wound. “She’s going to either see the scar, which there is going to be a scar, or she’s going to ring it out of someone.  From what I have already seen and heard of her, she’s very pigheaded when she wants to learn a fact about someone or something.”

          Again, Sabrina narrowed her eyes at him, “Excuse me?” She fisted her hands into little balls, trying to keep her already tested patience and temper in check.  Hitting the man holding a sharp object to your shoulder wouldn’t be a good idea.

          Blinking again, she stared at the knife like tool in Landon’s hand.  When the Hell had he picked that up? “What’s that?”

          Without looking at her, he moved closer to her wounded shoulder with the knife thingy, “It’s a scalpel.”

          She eyed him warily, “Why does it look like a mini dagger then?”

“Because Sabrina, that’s how we produce them in our country.  Because of their slim shape, and smooth surface, they are able to cut more smoothly and quickly.  It’s design was actually based of a spear more than a dagger.”

She eyes the sharp object in his hand again, “And you’re using it because?”

          “There is an object lodged in your wound.  I am willing to guess it is the projectile called a bullet?”

          Looking at her shoulder, she tried to see whatever he was looking at, but couldn’t see past the fresh blood and muscle. “You’re going to cut it out?”

          Giving her a look that said, ‘Did you really just ask that?’ he rolled his eyes and placed the tip of the knife against her skin. “This is going to hurt, but I am going to ask if you could refrain from making too much noise, okay?”

          Gritting her teeth, she nodded and closed her eyes.  If she saw him cut her skin, she was going to pass out. “Just do it.”

          Holding her arm tighter, he said, “On the count of three.  One, two-”

          Then there was pain.  Slicing agony that forced a muffled scream from her lungs.