The Blessed Curse (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #4)

Their horses began growing restless within a mile of the battlefield. By the time they actually reached the edge of the camp most of their party was using all of their focus to keep their animals from bolting, aside from Zoelyn. Her large bay mare was walking with interest, but not fear. Of course, this was nothing to her horse. At one time the mare had been a cavalry horse, before the Blights had come. The mare had been the sole survivor of a failed attack on the creatures, and it was only through patient nursing that the horse had survived at all. The mare had seen battlegrounds before, and the smell of blood was nothing to her. Zoelyn had not, and the smell nearly made her gag.

“The battle ended barely a day ago. They will still be removing the dead, so brace yourselves, girls,” Dominic warned from the head of the column. His voice was gentle as it always was. Her guardian was as steady as her horse when it came to such matters. While Dominic himself refused to participate in any fighting, he was always the one they called to clean up afterwards. It was said he was the best healer outside the city of Sanctuary, and from the looks of the camp he was sorely needed here. “This is what comes of violence,” Dominic added as they passed by a pile of bodies wearing the red and yellow of Rivasa.

Zoelyn could hear the other girls gagging behind her and what sounded like one of them actually vomiting, but she didn’t look back. The other girls from the village hated her, and if they had noticed her attention it would have infuriated them. It was only through Dominic’s protection that she was tolerated at all. “Violence begets violence.” Zoelyn whispered the words at the same time Dominic spoke them to the rest of their small group. The words were a mantra to him and had become one to her long ago. Her eyes scanned the blackened landscape and she had to agree with his logic. She had never before seen a battlefield, but she had seen plenty of injuries during her time living in Dominic’s house, and from what she could tell they never solved anything.

“Girls, I want you to gather quickly all of the soiled bandages you can find and take them to the river to wash. We can boil them when you return, but most of the filth will need to be removed before that,” he ordered and then paused as his dark eyes scanned the numerous tents that had been set up to house the wounded. “From the looks of things, my magic won’t stretch far enough here. Some will have to be patched up the old fashioned way until I have time to get to them with magic,” Dominic explained with a sigh as he pulled his horse to a stop and dismounted. He was a tall man, with the frame of a fighter. Thick muscles knotted his arms and shoulders, but he carried no weapons. The lack of weapons, combined with his complete lack of armor, made him stand out in the camp almost as much as the dress-clad girls that swiftly moved to do his bidding. Dominic turned to watch them leave before looking back at Zoelyn. Brushing his hand lightly through his short tangled brown hair, he smiled faintly. “I think we are going to be here a while, Zoey. Why don’t you take our horses down for water and get them settled. I’ll see if I can find someone else to care for the rest of them.”

Zoelyn nodded and dismounted silently. Her heavy boots thudded loudly in the dirt and a few passersby paused to give her curious glances. Compared with the rest of her group, she supposed she did make an odd sight. The rest wore light cotton or wool in bright colors and she was clad from head to toe in heavy dark leather. Not even her face showed through the hood of her long coat. It wasn’t by choice, though, and on days as humid as today she wished she could shed it all. That simply wasn’t possible, though, and she knew it. Carefully, she took the reins from Dominic and gathered the horses as he turned toward the tents.

Dominic paused mid-step and looked back at her with a thoughtful expression. “Zoey, take a bucket with you if you would. I doubt any of the girls I sent had enough sense to realize I will need hot water in large supply to boil the bandages. They are likely pondering why exactly I’m going to boil bandages in the first place.” He sighed again and shook his head, rolling his eyes.

Zoelyn nodded with a faint smile and moved quietly to the pack horse, taking care not to touch the animal directly. She wore her gloves, but it was a habit that she had developed before Dominic had made the gloves for her. She never touched anything living, directly. Draping the reins of both horses over one of her arms she moved closer to the beast and began to work at the rope holding the buckets securely. The thick leather of her gloves made working the knots loose a larger chore than it should have been, but she was used to such things.

With a sigh, she grabbed the reins that were slipping from her arm and tucked them tighter against her. Before she could glance up again, the bucket fell to her feet with a solid thud and she looked up quickly to find the ropes that had secured it swinging loosely against the pack saddle. The horses snorted softly at the noise and her quick movement. Glancing around, Zoelyn frowned and reached down to pick up the bucket, taking care to move slower so the horses would settle once more. She knew she hadn’t worked at the knot enough to loosen it to the point of falling, but odd little things like that had been happening a lot lately.

For the past few weeks, small tasks that were usually a difficulty for her had been done silently, and there was never anyone around to thank for the help. She hadn’t mentioned it to Dominic at all, and wondered now if she should have. She had a suspicion about what was helping her, and if she was right, her invisible friend was in a great deal of danger in their current surroundings.