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Chapter Two: Stranger

He stepped into the light. He was tall, taller than most men, with a semi-muscular build. His skin was dark with the sun’s tan, and bright blue eyes watched the world around him. He was clothed darkly, and he carried an axe at his side. A small bag was slung over his shoulder. “What happened?” he asked, kneeling beside the injured girl and dropping his belongings.

“We were attacked—bandits, I can only imagine.” Kassandra paced, watching him carefully, as if she did not know if she could trust herself to trust him.

“And they are…?”

She shook her head. “I do not know. They stopped following nearly ten minutes ago.”

Ladimira looked up at the figure kneeling beside her. She was in too much pain to be afraid, but she wondered who he was.

“I will not hurt you,” he said in the same deep, coarse voice. To Kassandra, it seemed as if he had not spoken in years. He inspected the wound carefully, and tore a hole in her shirt around the wound. “This might hurt a bit,” he warned. “I must pull out the arrow. I will count to three.” He sucked in his breath and took hold of the shaft. “One, two…” and he pulled.

Ladimira cried out in pain. “I thought you said you would count to three!” she said, tears streaming from her eyes. She was half furious with the man—a liar, as far as she could tell—and half terrified of him.

“Anticipation is worse than pain,” he replied grimly, and he carefully began bandaging the open wound.

“Halan, how bad is it?” Kassandra asked, crossing her arms and standing a short distance away.

“Not good,” he replied, “but nowhere near deadly. Your friend—”

“Ladimira,” the girl interrupted, giving her name.

“—Ladimira—will be just fine in a couple of weeks.” Halan, as he was named, packed up his things diligently, avoiding eye contact with the women. When he had finished, he rose to his feet, gripped his axe in one hand, a bottle in the other, and his bag slung over his shoulder. He handed the bottle to Kassandra. “Watch for infections,” he warned. “Apply this salve twice a day, enough to cover the entire wound.”

Kassandra took the bottle and nodded. When he began to walk away, she threw a hand out in front of him to stop him. “Wait, brother. Please, stay with us. I am not a doctor.”

He sighed, his strong demeanor flaking away. “That is why I have given you directions,” he replied, avoiding her eyes. “I have things to attend to.”

“What things? Are they more important than family?” Kassandra had donned a sudden fire in her eyes, and power behind her voice. “Please—stay with us, if not for me, than for Ladimira. I would not risk my friend’s life by trying to play doctor.”

Halan glanced back at the woman on the ground, who was watching them with interest. “For her, then.” He looked at Kassandra and nodded. “I will be back shortly. If anything should happen between now and then, then let me know.”

Kassandra nodded