8 I'm hungry

In the evening, the Inquisitor offered to set out and hunt for dinner.

"Absolutely not!" Julian shrilled at him, "You will sit still and not anger your wounds any further. Tomorrow you will assist me with groceries."

"What about tonight? I'm hungry," Leonel had to gall to say.

"Starve." Julian sneered. But who was actually starving? His entire supply of food was demolished in a single meal-time by one idiot. Julius didn't have anything but a single apricot in the morning.

Grumbling in self-pity, he adjusted his eyeglasses and looked down at his notes scribbled down in the now dirtied journal at his desk.

Leonel the Inquisitor was making himself at home, swinging in Julian's hammock with a book in hand. Of all the interesting titles that Julian had in his repertoire including an (in)Complete Compendium of the Deadliest Herbs in the Northern Regions, the History of Animal Husbandry in Sepira, and Ancient Old Age Mythology, Leonel chose to read High Lady Glendrilla and the Beast Vol. 3.

It was the only volume that Julian had, and only because it belonged to the previous owner of the hut.

Julian still had many questions to ask but decided to save them for later. If he was going to take a trip into the village, might as well run as many errands as possible to make the most out of the trip, especially now that he had an extra pair of hands to help.

It wasn't easy living as a cripple. There was time he had a mule to help him with the short trip but that old beast had succumbed last winter, fallen to illness and old age.

Thus, he took his sweet time combing through his journal and all the notes on the villager's health and whatnot including possible herbs and remedies that he should have on the ready just in case.

It was late in the night when he finally set down the ink pen and stretched, feeling a little dizzy when looking up at a world that wasn't made of paper and words. Julian blinked before hauling himself up and out of the chair, his limbs feeling heavy and ready for rest. Except, when he was about to blow out the candle and roll into the comforts of his hammock, he found a tall shape nestled in there.

Julian scowled, suddenly remembered his unwelcome guest.

Leonel was wearing clothes that he'd pillaged from Julian's old trunks; trousers and shirts that no longer fit the Doctor found a new purpose draped over Leonel's tall fit body. After seeing him with clear vision, Julian now knew that the man's eyes were a bright blue, a rare trait to be found deep in Arcadia.

The book was splayed over his chest with hands folded neatly over. His breathing was silent even as he slept, barely leaving any indication of being alive.

Julian grumbled with annoyance, deciding that he will just let sleeping dogs lie and deal with changing the bandages tomorrow morning.

A part of him wondered why he hadn't just thrown the giant Inquisitor out like he should have but concluded not to think too much about it and laid down on the cot.

Sleep came as easily as ever.

…

The next morning, Julian wanted to congratulate himself for waking up at a respectable hour two days in a row. What he hadn't considered was the Inquisitor having woken up even earlier before him and was cooking wild hare by a fire outside.

When Leonel caught sight of the older man emerging, he raised the half-eaten rabbit skewer to offer some for him to eat.

Julian made a face a disgust. "Absolutely not. When you're done, come back inside so I can change the hemp for you.

With his mouth half-full, Leonel spoke, "I can change my own bandages."

"I need to take a look at your wounds. You know you're in danger of circuit corruption right?" Julian pointed out, "Those scars will last you a lifetime."

"..." With a scoff, Leonel stood. "Fine," He gritted out like a petulant child being told to go take a bath when he didn't want to.

"Don't be a brat," Julian hissed which only earned him a roll of the eyes.

Before changing the bandages, he went to go draw a pail of water and ordered Leonel to stay put and wait.

It took him a bit longer than most people.

Leonel's eyes glared holes into that lame leg as Julian shuffled indoors. "What?" the Doctor huffed, "I know I'm pretty but you don't have to stare at me so much. I'll start to feel shy."

"You're one of the most shameless old men I've ever seen in my life," Leonel rolled his eyes and looked away.

"Then you haven't seen enough old men drunk off their arse," Julian chuckled before ordering Leonel to strip. "Don't you worry kid, I'm not interested in burly big guys like you."

"I'm not afraid of you," Leonel clicked his teeth in annoyance as he peeled off both his shirt and trousers, revealing rows of bandages around his torso, arm and legs.

"Maybe you should be," Julian hummed as he sat down on his chair next to the cot. He started with the leg.

The old bandages came away and Julian first began to clean the wound with water. Next was the ointment that was strong enough to burn the nose when Julian opened it. When applied it often stung terribly and Julian was not the biggest fan of it. However, it was one of the most effective ointments that Julian owned.

And this Inquisitor was a big boy, only uttering a single muffled groan through the process.

After the ointment was suitably spread, Julian would wrap the whole thing up in new, clean hemp.

"Arm," Julian ordered and received the injured arm obediently. He was leaving the most difficult part for the end.

"I was going to get you braces for this arm of yours," Julian commented offhandedly, wondering if he should still be kind enough to properly secure this arm. He feared that the bone might had suffered damage from the blunt force it suffered. "But then you just had to go and press a knife on my pretty neck."

"Your old man's neck," Leonel corrected. "I'll be fine. I'm an Inquisitor." The young man shrugged and flexed his fingers as Julian worked to wipe down the wounds.

"You're human," Julian reminded him.

And then they fell into silence again. There was only the soft trickling of water and rustling fabric and at times were sharp intakes of breath. All things familiar to Julian and his line of work and judging from Leonel's calm composure, was nothing new to him either.

The last thing and most important injury that Julian had to check was the one on Leonel's abdomen. There was an interesting story behind this injury. Julian could easily tell that the spellwork was a simple one, done clumsily by someone that had no finesse in wielding magic. Which really begged to tell, how did it cut so deeply on an Inquisitor's body? Were Inquisitors no longer as impressive as the beasts that roamed the lands during the first Purge?

But after witnessing Leonel's silent assassin-like steps and quiet breathing, he wasn't so ready to believe that either. "What happened here?" Julian asked as he inspected the wound after giving it a good wash. There were parts of skin turning blue, veins that popped out like cracks along the wound that almost looked like old scars. They weren't. They were over-reactive circuits, flaring from the damage.

If Julian had no fear of being exposed as a mage, he'd use magic to counteract the spread of corruption. But alas, that was not an option. So instead he took out a special remedy created from a mixture of herbs and crushed Blue Stones and spread it over the worst parts.

"Take a guess," Leonel answered dryly, "I fought a mage."

"Must have been a powerful mage," Julian asked with a raised brow.

Leonel said nothing.

"Fine," Julian rolled his eyes. He had a strong feeling that some interesting details were being hidden from him. "Don't tell me."