The man in the yellow cloak didn't wake up when Zelgadis dumped him into the icy cold stream by Sylphiel's house. He didn't even wake up when Zelgadis got him out of his clothes so Sylphiel could wash them, or when Zelgadis scrubbed him within an inch of his life so that no dirt or old blood would be trapped in his battered body when Sylphiel healed him.

Even when he was clean, they couldn't tell what he looked like, except that he had skin that would have been sallow even if it hadn't been grey with shock, and dark hair that didn't quite reach to his shoulders, even wet. He had a lot of broken bones and cuts on his face as well as everywhere else, and bruises were blossoming all over. A thin, constant stream of blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth, and his breathing was labored.

Sylphiel's eyes were bright as she hung his clothes up to dry. "Why did they hate him so much?" she asked.

Zelgadis shrugged. "They may not have. It may have been business, or maybe he knows something he shouldn't." He nearly smiled. "Maybe those are the Large Wolf Bandits, and he told someone the secret."

"I'm sorry, but I didn't understand. What was the secret?"

Now he did smile, grimly. "Knowing Xellos, probably that there isn't one."

Her eyes widened fearfully. "Oh, Zelgadis-san! What if that's it and you just told me?"

"Then we wait for the wolves to come," he said practically, "so your patient can have warm blankets."

She stared at him for a long time in horrified fascination, and finally laughed. "I didn't know you were funny, Zelgadis-san."

"I'm not," he said stiflingly. Her wince was satisfying in a way, but he felt like a--he felt might possibly have been a little more committed to his heartless imagethan was absolutely necessary, considering that she didn't know him very well. "Is there anything we can put him in until his clothes dry?"

"All of Father's things were destroyed." Her lips trembled.

Fearing that she would fall apart if he were kind to her, he said gruffly, "Lina dried those flowers with a fireball. It should work, if your control is good," and walked out to check on the patient. He heard a sniffling sound behind him, but she came out after a moment and did as he suggested.

When the man's pants were dry and on him, he called her in. She said, "You can go to sleep if you want, Zelgadis-san. Just put him on the bed. I can heal him alone."

He supposed that he deserved that. "I'll prepare some food for Lina and the others first," he offered. "They'll be hungry when they get back."

She nodded and turned back to the patient. Before he had quite left the room, she said, "Zelgadis-san? I don't think the bandits did this."

"Sylphiel," he sighed, "we saw them."

"No, come and see."

He came over and looked where she was pointing. There was a thick scar on the man's chest, just to the left of center, a rough, scooped-out circle over his heart. It was red and angry looking, but it was just about healed over, and even being scrubbed with rough cloth hadn't opened it.

Also, now that the man was clean, Zelgadis could see flesh-colored bands of cloth wound about his wrists and neck, wound tightly enough that being washed hadn't disturbed them. There'd been something like that around the tops of the thighs, too, he thought, although he hadn't been paying much attention.

"I think you're right. We can ask him about it when he wakes up." He hesitated. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."

"Thank you, Zelgadis-san," she whispered. "This may take a long time. There's a lot to fix."

It was a wrench, but he had a feeling that he would get pounded later if he didn't do something, so he said, "I'll bring you some coffee before I go to bed," and walked out. Heroically, he didn't even check her expression to see if she appreciated the massive personal sacrifice he was making. She probably wouldn't understand.

***

With a much better sense of timing than she usually displayed around anything but bandit camps, Lina brought Gourry and Amelia back right when Zelgadis was nearly finished. He didn't pretend to be anything like as good a cook as Sylphiel (or Xellos, probably, if he would ever expand his repertoire to include anything nontoxic), so he had taken out a few big plates and arranged sandwich materials on them. He wondered if they would even bother to make the sandwiches.

"Victory!" Lina squealed on her way in. She was loaded down with a huge, glittering sack, and she had a tome under one arm. She tossed it to Zelgadis. "Where's Sylphiel?"

"And how is that man?" Amelia asked.

"Wow, Sylphiel made us food," Gourry noticed happily.

"Sylphiel is still healing the patient. I made the food. No, it's not poisonous. --You're supposed to put the meat and things between two slices of bread before you eat them... why do I bother?"

Lina waved a chicken bone at him in vague acknowledgement. He wasn't sure where she had gotten it from; he didn't remember putting chicken out. Half the food had vanished before he'd even finished talking. He sighed. "I'm making Sylphiel some coffee, and then I'm going to the study," he informed them. "I'm going to sleep there."

"Slfltzgf," Lina said.

"What?"

She swallowed. "Sylphiel hates coffee. But don't worry, Zel," she said in the cheerful voice that always made him think he should, "I'll bring her something if Gourry doesn't eat it all."

"Yra wunoo eedzidal," Gourry protested, chewing ferociously.

"What was that?" she glared.

"N'thn! N'thn!"

Zelgadis took his book and left.

It was, he decided later, putting it aside, a very interesting book, especially if you wanted to turn farm animals into weapons of mass destruction. Not, however, quite what he was looking for. He settled in to sleep inside what had been a bookcase once. When he had nearly drifted off, the door creaked open.

He heard female voices speaking in low tones. "Do you think we should wake him up and tell him?" Amelia asked doubtfully.

"He has to find out sometime."

"But he'll only be upset, and then he won't get any rest at all. And he's sleeping so peacefully. Can't we wait until morning?"

That's right, Zelgadis thought drowsily. Wait until morning. I'm asleep, see? That's my chest going up and down at a constant rate and with an even rhythm, look. Maybe I should try a snore.

"All right," Lina said. "No, don't tuck him in. Come on." The door closed. Zelgadis thought a brief prayer of thanksgiving to Ceiphied, and dropped off.

At some point during the night he became aware of the smell of that ridiculous thistle, and of a warm, welcome pressure on his front. He puzzled over it for a moment, remembered that he'd had nearly the same dream the previous night, and went back to sleep.

Heroically, he didn't even check her expression to see if she appreciated the massive personal sacrifice he was making. She probably wouldn't understand.
Back to story

---

Back | Back to ToC | Next

Feedback Enshrined Here

---

updates | room | shrine | litmus test | slayers | saiyuki | misc | links