FOREVER KNIGHTS: #12 Primal Intent

Marshall Manse, InnerCircle City, Mane Country

SEBASTIAN

Ebony shrieked when Marshall Manse’s front door was suddenly thrust open and a blonde man carrying another man suddenly stepped into her foyer.

“What’s going on here!” She demanded as she rushed from the parlor to see what was happening.

He needs help!

But it took her only a moment to recognize the limp wig with the long ringlets. Confirmed by the signet ring Rhyers always wore. The exact replica of what Samuel always wore. Except with the emblazon of a fat red cross.

“This is the most ridiculous-” Sebastian was spitting mad. Not only because Chavias had attacked Rhyers.

But also because Rhyers then insisted I bring him here, of all places!

Because Miss Ebony Marshall knows how to care for him. Rhyers’ last words echoed in his mind. The tall slender man had fisted Bast’s collar and demanded it.

And to do that, I had to…powder him. Bast was nearly contemptuous at the effort. He’d had to stick that preposterous wig to Rhyers head and swipe a handful of powder on his friends face while Rhyers bled all over his own house. His servants outraged Bast may have hurt him.

And likely calling the constable on me.

Despite all of Bast’s efforts and the bandages he’d cinched around Rhyers’ ribcage he couldn’t get the bleeding to stop. So, he’d stalked through the cluster of Rhyers servants, swearing vehemently to find this address and bring him here.

Now some half-pint woman is going to question me? His chest heaved with irritation.

“Oh God, what happened to him?” She demanded. Looking at Bast accusingly.

I’m getting real tired of getting that look.

And worse, after she looked straight at him, her face softening and eyes going large. Pupils dilating as she focused on his face.

Not now!

“Woman! Come off it!” He demanded more harshly then he meant to. “If you don’t care for my friend, I’ll put hand to you, to wake you!”

Rhyers needs help!

Apparently, the sincerity in his voice had banished her adoration because she blinked quickly. Head rearing in shock. “Was I staring?”

“Yes.” Bast gave her a sideways look as he laid Rhyers out on her parlor floor.

Her eyes returned to Rhyers, scared to go much further with him losing the amount of blood he was. “He’s hurt!”

I’m aware. She’s about as helpful as a crippled kitten.

“I can’t stop the bleeding.”

“Of course not!” She said as if it made perfect sense. Clutching her skirt, she ran to the kitchen.

What in Ardae is she doing? He heard her banging around before she returned with a vial of clear bubbles with a thin metal point screwed atop it.

What’s that? Before Bast could react, she’d stabbed Rhyers in the leg with it.

Bast nearly struck her. “What are you doing?” He roared, jumping to his feet.

“Stopping the bleeding!” She shouted back. Unfazed by his aggression. “Your panic isn’t helping.”

My panic? Bast was known for his calm under pressure.

Perhaps I am elevated. I found him half dead.

Chavias did this!

She wiped her hands on her fine skirt and began tugging at Rhyers’ shirt. Barely glancing at his face. Which was only roughly smeared with white rather than painted.

Seeing he’d missed around one eye completely, Bast looked at his palm which was still covered in the white butter. He reached up and slapped his palm over Rhyers’ eyebrow and drug it down one cheek.

“What are you doing?” She demanded.

I’ve no idea.

“Who’s panicking now?” He snapped. “Don’t worry about what I’m doing. Handle your business!”

“I’m trying to but his shirt! What’s this dreadful fabric?”

“It’s parchment now.” Bast leaned up to rip open his friend’s shirt. Tearing it up over his shoulder to get it from her way. “What did you stab him with?”

“Something he gave me long ago that he said was made for him when he was injured before, since his body is incapable of stopping a bleed once it starts.”

I didn’t know what.

“What? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”