Agatha's POV
After my fight with Pete, one of the elite guards approachedme and ushered me to a mess room. It was the first time I had been in a placelike that one. Well, I was a child even when I was around so running over tothe warriors' quarters didn't make much of a sense to me.
"Don't think that you're one of us just because you getthe opportunity to be in here," he said, as if warning me not to get anynice ideas, or to get my hopes up.
The mess room was empty, save for one man. He had curly hairand he looked at me with big round eyes. He was wearing a robe that could havebeen white when he first bought it, but had stood the test of time and fallento a color that stood between grey and colorless.
"That's Rand," the elite soldier said, pointing tohim. "He will take care of your wounds from now on, when you can't healfast from them."
I nodded at the man called Rand and he just dipped his chinat me.
The soldier showed me an inner room where I could wash upand change my clothes.
Something occurred to me right there and then so I asked,"We're using this place with the elite male soldiers?"
"No," he said, looking irritated. "We'vegotten an upgrade so this place is for you lots that survive every match in thering. Won't have you thinking you've already arrived, can we?"
"What does it matter?" I asked, shifting my feet."It's just one man standing that's needed not the whole of us,right?"
He said nothing. In response, the elite soldier walked awayfrom me.
I knew I'd have a problem using the same mess room with theothers. I couldn't have them knowing that I was a woman, and not a man. Irealized that I would have to take my injury to my hideout and wait for it toheal instead.
I stumbled out and sat on one of the benches. Rand watchedme like a curious hawk.
"Need my help?" he asked.
I sat so that I could see him coming. "You could helpme by stop watching me."
He picked up a medicine bottle and moved towards me."Just that you remind me of someone."
"I look like shit and I remind you of someone?"
That seemed to crack him up. Rand handed the bottle to me.It was corked. There was blue liquid in it.
"You're funny. Drink this."
"What's that?"
"It'll help you to heal faster."
"Is that right, sir?"
"Oh, I kid you not. Something new I've prepared for theelite warriors so I don't get to fix them up every damn time."
"Sure they'd be happy to know that you're giving it tome? I don't think they like us."
"They don't have to like anyone. They got a job and Ihave mine. Anyone who comes into this mess with a wound, it is my job to seethat wound doesn't result in death."
"You good at your job, sir?"
"As good as I can be," he said and held out hishand to me.
I took it. Better that than having him peel my clothes offmy body just to look at my injury. No way he wouldn't see my nipples peekingout. And I couldn't allow that to happen. So it was a good thing he wasoffering something that could fasten the healing process.
Rand sat on a bench and watched me gulp the liquid down. Ittasted like gutter, but I ground my teeth and kept it down. Nothing good evertasted good.
"Welcome to the life as a warrior," Rand said."You'll get to take that every damn time you get an injury. Other times,I'll have to work on you."
"I'll get better so I don't get to take this."
He nodded his head. "So what's your story?"
Yeah, I had been working on that too. I knew people wouldask that of me when I arrived. Winning a battle or more would obviously triggerquestions. Like where the hell was I from, where did I train.
"Nowhere," I said and handed the empty bottle backto him.
"That's vague, and not really a response."
"I don't really remember where I'm from. It's hazy. Ijust wander around, eating scraps wherever I can find. Not much of a life forme."
"There's not much in life for either of us. Tell meyour name."
"Bernard."
"There's not much in life for either of us, Bernard.Spent my whole life working with my father. Didn't have a mother while growingup. My dad, he told me that she died during childbirth. So it was just the bothof us. Then he died in a fire when I was twelve and I had to find my own way.You probably don't know what it feels like to lose your dad or mom in a ghastlyway."
I did but I didn't tell him that. Just swallowed and kept mymouth shut. It brought back memories, not good ones at all. Right from when myown father declared his judgment up to the point where my mother was beheaded.
I felt Rand's liquid begun to work inside of me. My flesh,finding its place again and blood vessels trying to stitch themselves again. Itwas painful, but that was how we were made.
Someone stumbled in. He held his right hand, blood drippingfrom it. I saw he had lost two fingers and his face reflected so much pain thatI could almost taste his tears.
"Where the hell is the doctor?" he yelled.
"Excuse me," Rand said, rose and went to offer theman aid.
It was just the tip of the iceberg for me. The rest of themen walked in with different cuts and stab wounds. I heard grown men cry,watched them bleed, I felt their pain, and even one or two died right there inthe mess hall.
The elite soldiers made a song about that. It seemed tosound like this:
'Why they bring an injured man from the battleground
When he'd die in the mess with all the pigs around?
No, he came right by himself thinking he'd bested war
Ho ho ho, dig him a messy grave, dug with hands and a saw.'
I realized that my mission was getting more impossible.