Holier Than Thou

[Emora Deen]

"Ahh, you know," he sighed, shrugging. "The men are packed and lined out front. We need to get moving if we want to get back quickly." He stepped up to the bed, looking down at them. Stalker perked up and trotted to the foot of the bed. "Espha wants to say goodbye before you leave."

Tenele slept just as heavily as she had before Atul entered. Still very warm, but less so than that night. "Are we going to be ready to ride?"

[Soran Nightblade]

"She is stable," Vlad said. "I will wrap her up and carry her out." He extracted himself carefully from her cuddly grip on his shoulder, drew the blanket around her to guard her from the sun, and pulled her carefully up into his arms, watching her sensitive legs. Her wounded arm rested in the blanket opposite him, the fabric acting like a sling. "Can you grab that bowl of salve and have your men pack it up, in case we need it later?"

[Emora Deen]

Atul nodded, grabbing the bowl, and the rag that lay on the bed. He followed Vlad down, and immediately headed out the door to give someone the task of putting it away for safe keeping.

Espha stood up, smoothing her dress. She hadn't bathed in several days, and she was suddenly aware of that as she saw her well dressed aunt standing outside. When she saw Vladimir come down her eyes brightened, but then she immediately turned a sympathetic eye down to Tenele.

"You're leaving. I hope you get her home safely. She is a brave woman to travel in her condition," Espha told him.

Talon snorted from his corner.

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad studied Espha's extended family members. They didn't look much like her. He doubted they *were* much like her. He knelt so he could be eye level with the girl. "A lot is going to change for you. If you find yourself without someone to trust, come to me," he said quietly.

[Emora Deen]

Espha nodded. "I will do that," she told him in a faint whisper, giving a hesitant glance to her aunt. "I think I have to go now, Vlad. But, I'll see you soon. Thank you for what you did. My father would thank you if he could." Her eyes brimmed with tears, but she blinked it quickly away before stepping out into the sun.

"Everything's set," Atul called, poking his head back in the door.

Talon jumped up from the chair, collected his cloak. He drew it over his shoulders and tugged the hood over his silver hair. His eyes went to Tenele.

The Queen's Maiden made a quiet sound, and moved like she wanted to roll over. She found it difficult, and her legs dangled. When she drew her eyes open she understood why. "Mmmm," she murmured, twisting her face and pressing it into the covers tucked around her. She fell right back asleep.

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad smirked at his sleepy wife. "Well, goodbyes are done. Ready when you are," he said to Atul. The day and half journey went slowly, but without much excitement. Vlad spent a lot of time thinking at night, and a lot of time sun-numb during the day. The bright desert daylight seemed to wipe his brain out. Talon was the one he truly felt concerned about. Even on horseback, it was gruelling weather for a normal vampire.

He was relieved when the capitol finally came into view on the horizon. About an hour later, the gates were opening to let them through.

[Emora Deen]

The streets were quiet, save a few people out at the market. The people regarded them with quiet stares, as if they seemed unsure of what to make of the vampire. Maybe they feared retaliation. After all, Atul had yet to punish his people for what they'd done. His father never failed to punish them.

The advisers to Atul greeted them at the palace doors, bowing as the King dismounted his horse. A servant quickly took the animal away.

Tenele stared through half closed eyes, feeling nauseated. She swallowed carefully, as if swallowing the need to give up all she'd eaten for lunch, which was very little. She turned her head to see the world around her. It was all fuzzy and warped. The faces were unrecognisable. "I don't feel so good," she muttered, trying to sit up in Vlad's arms. "I need down. I need to get down."

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad cast a level stare across the faces of the people who gathered curiously, keeping their distance. He stopped with Tenele in his arms and let her carefully down onto her butt in the sand, not wanting her to rest on her blistered knees. The blanket around her covered most of her body, but the onlookers did not need to see her injuries to see the condition she was in. He placed a steadying hand on her shoulder and let her be upright while her nausea passed. "Let me know when you want to move," he said quietly, while more people began to pop out of the streets and buildings and watch them from afar.

[Emora Deen]

Tenele nodded. Her arm throbbed. Her skin felt scalding and it was hard to tell if it was the desert sun or her own body. Talon stepped with them, lifting a hand to her forehead. He frowned, brushing upwards and moving her silver hair away from her face. Tenele glanced to him, and then behind him at the man standing there, looking down at them. His face was too warped to see clearly.

"What does he want?" Tenele muttered.

"Who?"

"That man behind you," she groaned.

Talon looked over his shoulder, and then turned a concerned gaze back to Tenele. "There's no one behind me," he told her, but instead his eyes fell on Vlad. "She's too hot. We should get her inside quickly and find a way to cool her down."

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad nodded at Talon's correct advice. "Just a bit further, love," he said, scooping her up again. As if her moment of weakness had been heard by everyone in the square, the group that was now a small crowd shrunk back.

Vlad didn't pity them. "Her condition is your work," his voice rose firmly across the sandstone streets, extending to all of them, blistering their pride like a spanking. "Make plans to prove your regret. Or lose her support forever. Even if she forgives you for this, I will not. Know that it is your King's insistent faith in you, and that alone, which has stopped me from tearing each and every one of you apart."

He turned his back on them and walked with Talon to the palace gates. The servants scurried around them like overattentive pets as they made their way through the halls to Tenele's quarters. It was only Stalker's territorial snarls that kept the far enough out of the way for Vlad to avoid tripping on them. He let the maids unlock the door and scurry to prepare their bed as Vlad carried her across the room. "A lukewarm bath, please," he offered one of the maids who looked set to burst into tears if not given a task. "Antiseptic cream, bandages, a clean nightshirt," he rattled off the things he wanted and let them scramble over each other to go gather what he'd requested. He set Tenele gently on her butt on the bed and guided her to rest her head between her knees. "Very still. Let the dizziness run its course," he encouraged her.

"Talon," he said to his brother in law. "This corner. Sit," he crossed to the man's side and found it all too easy to guide the unsteady man to the darkest part of the room. He pressed on his shoulder to make him sit down against the wall, shielded from the light outside. He gestured to one of the maids, and the curtain that opened on their terrace was instantly drawn shut.

[Emora Deen]

"Its infection," Talon muttered, as if Vlad didn't already know. He said it just low enough so Tenele couldn't hear him. He didn't want to frighten her.

Tenele rested with her head between her legs, to sick to feel embarrassed at her momentary weakness. She felt Stalker's cold nose press against the top of her head.

Atul strolled into the room briskly, and knelt in front of her, taking her chin and urging her to lift her head. "How are we doing?"

"Not good," she whispered, pushing against his hand to force her head back down before she puked in his face.

Atul nodded, and took her burned arm gently. He slowly started to unwrap it. The burns looked relatively normal until around the wrist, where the skin was broken from Vlad's harsh touch. It was red, inflamed, sticky with infection. Atul's jaw set tight. "Let this air out for a moment. It will be fine, just needs some air." He kissed the top of her head gently, standing and stepping over to Vlad. He gave the vampire a grave look, but didn't think he needed to explain what he was thinking.

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad looked at Atul briefly, understanding, and then his gaze drew back to her arm like it was magnetized. The sight of the damage he'd done made his own stomach sick. As soon as the maids returned with the anti-inflammatory, he mixed it into a glass of water with ginger and then sat beside her. "Drink this. Take your time," he said, pressing the glass into her hand.

[Emora Deen]

Tenele's hand shook as she guided the glass to her lips. She drank slowly. Very slowly. When she was a little over half-way she had to stop, and placed the cup on the floor. "I'm going to lie down," she muttered, keeling over sideways and drawing her legs up onto the bed.

Atul wore an ever present frown. "Vlad..." the King nodded towards the door. He wanted to speak with the vampire outside of Tenele's earshot.

[Soran Nightblade]

Vlad stood up, hesitant to leave her, and followed Atul out. If anything could have been worse than looking at his own damage to his wife, he might have dreaded being alone with Atul. Closing the door behind him, he met the king's eyes.

[Emora Deen]

Atul leaned against the wall, staring down at the floor. He was very quiet, solemn. In no time, Talon had joined them out in the hall. The King let out a heavy say. "We've seen enough battle wounds to know what's going to happen."

"You're not taking her arm," Talon interjected.

Atul glowered at him. "If we don't the infection will eventually kill her. Its her arm of her life."

Talon stepped forward. "You don't know anything about Queen's Maidens do you? You take her arm, you might as well take her life. She's a fighter, a warrior. If you take her arm she won't be any of those. Tenele won't be able to stand living. You are not taking her arm."

"Then, what do you suggest?!" Atul growled, the demon glowing in his voice.