1Chapter 3 Pina's Place
Alex's first thoughts were with Bralin. He looked toward the field, and saw Bralin on one
knee, using his axe to hold himself up. He was covered in blood, and there lay piles of
dead around him. By the look of it, he got some air support also, as the dead accurate
arrows stuck in the heaps like porcupine needles.
Bralin did not look good. His balance was in jeopardy, as he swayed while he
stared blankly at the ground. Alex started to call to him, but stopped. He noticed the
people of the village staring at him. He made eye contact with each one of them, stopping
with the blue eyed beauty, still perched upon the roof, aiming her crossbow at Alex. He dropped the two banister pieces and showed his hands. He saw from the corner of his eye a small, cloaked woman walking briskly toward Bralin with a sack over her shoulder.
"What's going on, Alex?" She shouted down from the roof, not taking her eye off
her mark.
"What are you talking about?" Alex shouted, the adrenaline still coursing through his
veins.
"Just this morning," she said, "I watched you throw a melon up and slice it into five
pieces with your sword before it hit the ground. During that fight just now, you looked as
if you have never held that sword in your life."
"I haven't," Alex replied. "At least not that I can remember…"
"Hold him…I'm coming down," she said to the people surrounding him.
Alex showed them that it wouldn't be necessary; that he wasn't going to make a run for
it. They looked at him more with awe in their eyes than that of any sort of threat. A man
quietly bent over, picked up the banister pieces, and examined them.
A few of the townsfolk began to roam around the village and the field to inspect the
damage; both to the town and the people. At the same time, a group of at least a dozen
people gathered around Alex, staring at him quizzically.
"You've got some explaining to do," the girl said as she stepped past a few people and
stepped into the circle. "First of all," she went on, "why didn't you draw your sword
when the beasts charged in? You normally would've been the FIRST one readied. Also,
what possessed you to RUN from that fight? That is not like you at all…"
He put his forehead in his hand. "I wish I had an answer for you. I'm just not myself
lately."
"Not yourself? You are no coward. It took you a good while to realize that during that
fight."
"Bronwyn, he's bleeding pretty badly," one woman said to her.
"Bronwyn," he thought. "Even a beautiful name…"
"True enough," she said, "please get him inside…we'll talk later." Her gaze shifted back
to Alex as she finished her sentence.
He hadn't even felt any pain, but when he looked down at his crimson shirt, he could see
the parting flesh and part of his rib was exposed. He almost collapsed at the sight, but
luckily, two people grabbed his arms and helped him stay upright and walk toward a
cabin.
As the adrenaline was checking out, the pain was on its way in, and Alex's breaths
became shorter.
The cabin that they walked him toward was much larger than the one Alex was
in, and it was far more lived in. They walked past an exotic herb garden like Alex had
never seen. It was very well protected with small traps and spiked wire. Across from the
garden stood a giant clothesline, with huge rugs and tapestries hanging to freshen in the
autumn air. As they stepped up onto the porch, to the right was a chair made from
hundreds of a large animal's bones, though the way it was designed gave the impression
that it would be quite comfortable to sit in. Old books sat on a small table next to the
chair. He imagined this is where "Pina" spent the majority of her time. As they entered
the cabin, he was flooded with the most pleasing aroma. It was a blend of fresh brewed
coffee and baked sweets. He instantly felt a little better.
One of the men said, "I always love coming in here." He smiled at Alex. The older man
that had Alex's other arm was not as pleasant. He eyed Alex suspiciously through slits,
and wouldn't show any emotion.
Directly in front of them was a raised bed standing about a foot and a half higher than an
ordinary bed, with two poles climbing six feet into the air.
"So, this is the hospital," Alex thought.
As the men sat him up on the bed, he couldn't help from trembling in pain as he
leaned forward. It felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of him. He couldn't seem
to inhale very well without his chest bracing under the pressure from his lungs. He knew
that at least one rib was fractured.
The room swayed a moment later and began to spin as vomit trickled down the sides of his mouth in heaving convulsions. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell backward, lying unconscious on the bed.
The men dashed out of the house to get Alex some medical help.
Outside the cottage, a gathering of villagers formed. The chaos and confusion began to
escalate as two women carried a bed from another cottage toward Pina's place. Ignoring
the unconscious Alex, the women began setting up the other bed next to him, laying the
softest quilt down for the new patient. Two of the surviving scouts gingerly carried Bralin
in and with as much delicacy as possible placed him on the bed. Pina and Abigail were
right behind them.
Phinneaus had the crowd control duty. As he stood outside the cabin, he gestured with his
hands for the people to calm down.
"They both are injured pretty badly," he said, in as gentle a tone as possible, "so we must
not interfere..."
"What's going on with Alex?" someone shouted from the dozens of people congregated
outside.
"His wounds are serious, and he is resting," Phin stated, "but it appears that he shall survive."
An old man stepped up onto the porch. "I'll tell you what you all want to know!" he
shouted. Groans were abundant at that notion. The wiry man was even thinner than
Phinneaus, and his hunch added to his sickly appearance. His face was leathery and sun-
beaten, and he had more than one tooth deteriorated from his head. The general
consensus in the village was that the old timer had gone mad years ago. Because he was a
descendant of the village founders, however, the families tried their best to tolerate and
respect him as much as possible.
"Bregan, please." Phin tried desperately to catch him before he went on another of his
storytelling rants, usually after more than his share of ale, and tested the villagers
emotions any more.
"Silence!" The frail man commanded, waving his hands toward the crowd. "Doesn't
anyone see what's happening here? I have shared with you stories told to me by my
family and their families before them..."
He sounded unusually sober this particular time. Usually his tones trail off at the end of
sentences and his arms are flailing around as he speaks. This time, however, he
maintained complete control of himself and the situation.
"He has all of the symptoms," he went on. "Maddy," he said as gestured to one of the
maidens who was working at the food pit earlier, "you heard with your own ears how he
has forgotten what happened yesterday...and Bronwyn," he moved his gaze. "He has been
vomiting uncontrollably, hasn't he?" She acknowledged that he had. "And his poor
abilities with a weapon that he has practically been BORN with?" He had their complete
attention as he built up the climax to his prediction.
"My friends," Bregan boomed, "Alex has been blessed with a visit from the elders!"
Gasps of surprise and curiosities were heard for a split second.
"Blasphemy!" Abigail screamed as she stormed out of the cabin and got right into
Bregan's face. "Stop filling the minds of these people with your tales of magic and
fantasy!" She was seething, spitting as she ranted in his face. "Alex is a fool and a
coward and nearly got us all killed today. He will answer for his foolishness when he is
well enough, mark my words."
That prompted Bronwyn to step forward. "Easy, Abigail."
Abigail turned to look at Bron and her face softened a bit, yet she kept her rigid stance .
"I know that you fear for Bralin's life," she said, "but Alex didn't bring those creatures
here."
Bregan stepped away from Abigail, off the porch, as Bron made her way to Abby's side.
"Now, you are correct in saying that something wasn't right with Alex today, but he has
worked with this village and trained us all individually to our own strengths...so we could
fight in a battle like this essentially without him." She spoke as she rubbed Abigail's arm.
"But...my husband," she began to choke up and turned away from the crowd.
Phinneaus jumped at the chance to break up the group and give this cabin some privacy.
Everyone gathered out front also sensed the need to go, and did not resist this time. As
they left, many couldn't help wondering with great curiosity what was really going on. A
small group stayed with Bregan, listening intently to his prophetic insight as they walked.
Alex awoke only a moment later, and tried to focus on something to keep his
vision from dancing around the room. His eyes settled on Bronwyn's hair. The smooth,
brown locks that fell over her shoulders as she leaned forward over him reminded him of
the finest silk. He was amazed that a woman of the outdoors could keep herself so soft.
The weather had not affected her at all; of at least she did not show it.
Alex inhaled deeply as he tried to settle any trace of nausea, and the sweet aroma that
took over was as if he had eaten a warm piece of caramel. He could actually taste it with
all of his senses. As he inhaled, he could savor the creaminess on the roof of his mouth,
and even his nose aided in the experience.
"What is that smell?" Alex asked Bronwyn. "I can't say," Bron said, "You tell me."
"Huh?" Alex was puzzled. He heard a giggle next to him, and soon realized that Pina was
at his left side, cleaning his wound. He didn't feel anything, so he figured she took advantage of his unconscious state and administered some sort of anesthetic.
"I don't understand." Alex turned his head to Pina. "What is it?"
"Vat do you smell?" Pina asked, in a thick, Russian-sounding accent.
"I smell something sweet, like caramel...I can even taste it..." Alex replied, "Yet earlier, it
was different..."
"Caramel?" Bronwyn asked. "What is this?" Oops.
"I'm sorry, it's a foreign sweet that I tried when I was young," Alex lied, "but I still don't
get it."
Pina was laughing aloud at this point. "You really don't remember, do you?" Her 'r's
sounded like d's and l's all jumbled together, with the thick rolling of the tongue.
Alex shook his head. "It's called Memento Simmer. It is a perfectly balanced mix of
special ingredients set in a pot on the coals. The ingredients are the same all the time."
"What is it for?" Alex asked.
"It is simply a mood enhancer. It has been proven that when you stimulate your mind
with powerful aromas from positive moments in your life, it affects your whole being,
including the spirit."
"How did it change then?"
"IT didn't change at all. Your interpretation of it changed. Everyone receives it
differently, and each time you visit, it is never the same."
"That is incredible!" Alex raised his eyebrows as he pondered the thoughts of what Pina
had just told him. He inhaled again, to see if now that his brain knew what was going on,
if he'd still be fooled. The buttery taste as he swallowed was one of the finest he'd ever
had. He already felt so much better.
6