After that rather nasty ordeal with the burning knife and the charred flesh, Oliver was glad he could breathe much too easier now. The rest shouldn't be much of a chore anymore. And if the young woman continue to be as feisty and fiery as she was during the whole thing, there shouldn't be any more problem getting her through whatever is coming next.
Totally understanding the need to curse at the throes of pain, Oliver had easily dismissed her apology. He should know. He have had his own share of near death experiences. Brushes with death that have fortunately remained mere brushes, and nothing more. "To be honest, I didn't get any of it. Well, except for that one word that sounded rather familiar. L'infern?" he replied with a slight chuckle. "I will forgive you if you tell me exactly what those words meant." He was playing, but it doesn't hurt to learn something new everyday, even if they were cuss words. They might come in handy someday.
Her reaction after taking a small sip of the whiskey somehow surprised Oliver. He thought these nomadic people were quite big on drinking and partying since they practically had nothing much to answer to or to worry about. He had always seen these people to be living each day to the fullest, usually with little to no regards for consequences. If only his life were as easy and carefree as that. He half expected her to slug the entire contents of the bottle down or at least half of it, but it wasn't the case. When she was done drinking, Oliver took one long swig for himself and relished the feel of the warm liquid running down his throat.
He moved at her instructions, and took the said pouch from her belt. Trying to be as cautious as he had been earlier, but realized that wasn't to be the case as he noticed his hands shaking. The effects of that earlier ordeal only just surfaced. He had been all calm earlier, suppressing all the nervousness down. Now that the hard part was over and Oliver was starting to relax, the after-effects started manifesting themselves. It was always like this. Oliver could always feel his hands uncontrollably shake after a rather stressful event.
"Sorry," he apologized as he clumsily pried the pouch off her belt, unnecessarily touching her waist. He heaved a deep sigh to steady his hands, and then opened her pouch for her. "Comfrey, right. What does that look like?" He wasn't so sure if that herb had come up during his lessons with the court physician. And if it did, he obviously wasn't paying enough attention.
Apparently close season for Yassia was called off. She really shouldn’t have mentioned any more of the cursing, she should have learned by now that sometimes apologizing brought the focus on the topic more than ever, instead of dismissing it. That was why after all the custom on Ailantha’s court had been as such that if anyone sneezed or coughed or made some other very uncourtly sound, you rather ignored it instead of the culprit apologizing or you yourself wishing him well. Why had she been going on a limb with this? Why did she care so much what this stranger thought of her? They most likely would never cross paths again after all.
Now she had to think about what to say to him. Of course, she could lie and make something up, but right now she didn’t feel much in the condition to fabricate something that was genuine enough to pass as the truth. She would have to swallow the bitter pill. That might teach her to not run her mouth like that in the future…
“Must I?” she sounded rather bedraggled. “I really must ask you not to take offense. But in any way, you were right, l’infern must sound familiar to you. It means hell, and of course hellfire. So… what I was saying was: Curse the stars – it’s a custom where I come from to blame the stars for your fate”, she explained briefly, having had the same question asked before, “and then I said, ‘and curse you, huntsman,…” she blushed again and finished the sentence so lowly it nearly wasn’t audible anymore. “…rot in hell’. Well, if I had had enough reason left I surely would have said something else. That just came out… well, I might have left the first part, because it’s fairly common to say ‘maleeixo les estrelles’ or simply ‘maleeixo’ when something goes wrong… or is not very fortunate.”
Was she really now holding a conversation about cusswords? She couldn’t be in her right mind anymore! Had the whiskey already infected her brain?
And the unease just kept coming!! Now the pain had died down considerably, she could feel his hands on her waist, clumsily fumbling to untie the herb pouch. He apologized, so she trusted him not to grope on purpose, but it was still embarrassing enough as it was. “It’s alright…” she said, her voice raspy again and she hoped it was only because of the screaming and the pain earlier. Once again she found herself in a situation where she had to put her trust in others to behave properly. How long until her luck with that would run out?
She smiled as he seemed not to know what comfrey looked like. She hadn’t expected him to, after all. And as the plant, dried and cut in pieces as it was, would not be very easily distinguished from other greens, she had established an order in her herb bag long ago.
“You actually don’t need to search long. See all those little pouches inside the hide? Take them out and search for the one with the green leather thong tied around it. That’s the one that contains comfrey.” Yassia almost felt like training a student of herb lore, just like her mother had trained her so many years ago. A funny thought to behold, really. The dressing of the wound would be very painful again as she would have to be moved, so Yassia couldn’t help but ask, “Can I get some more of that throat searing drink of yours?”
