Chapter 160

Bastian leapt onto the back of the spotted gorilla. It yowled and reached its arms back to get him off of its back, its claws grazing his shoulders. He hissed through his teeth but didn't relinquish his grip.

He turned his head when he heard a growl. Peering through the dark rain he saw the other spotted gorilla charging towards him.

Light burst along the horizon and brightened the rain momentarily before it darkened again and thunder pervaded the sky.

He tightened his hold on the gorilla's neck and continued to try and cut off its air supply. He cried out when he felt the other beast rake his claws down his back.

He let go of the gorilla and stumbled to the muddy ground, the rain stinging as it pounded on his back. He tensed, ready for the beasts to attack but they didn't. Instead he saw them shot down by darts.

He saw a man coming towards him through the rain and across the muck, no weapon in hand. Bastian regarded him warily, his stance still defensive. He had lost his sword somewhere in the mud and it had been too dark to find it.

The man stopped a few meters from him and waved his hand towards the edge of the arena. His watched him. That had been where most of his foes had exited.

His mind had been on autopilot for hours. He didn't trust anything.

The man continued waving his arm and Bastian still kept his guard up. The rain pelted his fresh wounds and chilled his bones. The endless amount of adrenaline were still coursing through his veins, his heart beating at a dangerous pace.

Lightning struck the ground and Bastian's overwound body tensed. He glanced that way as the thunder rolled through the clouds.

While he was distracted he felt hands grab his arms and he fought to wrench them off but found his strength leaving him. He blinked as his eyelids began to feel weighted. For a moment he believed they'd drugged him, but as they dragged him out of the arena he recalled that his strength had left him the previous time he'd called on Samadur.

His head hung low as he tried to stay awake.

"Bastian!" He closed his eyes and felt a surge of relief and warmth flow through him. Hydrangea.

He felt himself being set on a table.

"But, he's resting. He's not ready." Hydrangea's voice floated into his drifting consciousness.

"We need to clean his body or else he will become ill." An unfamiliar voice answered.

He rested his head on the hard surface. He tried to open to open his eyes when he felt something shoved in between his teeth. What…? His head was lifted onto someone's lap, he could only presume it was Hydrangea's. Two cold hands found their way on either side of his head.

He began to stir awake as what they were doing dawned on him. But before he could say anything, they began.

His body had already been in pain when he'd been thrown into that arena, and now those injuries had doubled tenfold. At some point he'd stopped paying attention to all of the cuts and gashes, focusing only on the fight at hand.

He first felt a stinging sensation on his legs and soon realized he was naked. When had he lost his tunic? The jarring feeling continued onto his chest and he hissed through his teeth multiple times as the substance continued to assault his skin.

Hydrangea's hands stayed in his hair the entire time, her thumbs moving in circles above his ears.

Feeling something touch one of the larger cuts he bit down on the board between his teeth.

"Shh, shh… you're okay." Her voice calmed him despite the object probing the gash in his side. He groaned and grasped the sides of the table as he felt something deep in his ribs.

A growl of pain escaped his lips as he bore the many tortures of having his wounds being treated. Hydrangea never left his side.

They turned him so he was on his stomach and he bit down on the board, knowing that it would be worse.

He felt a cloth being dabbed along the gashes and he tensed, stifling a cry of pain. He clenched his fists by his head as he groaned through the wooden bit while they cleaned his wounds skillfully.

Hydrangea's hands were suddenly on his clenched fists as he rolled his shoulders; as though to get them away from the blinding pain.

Something hot yet cold touched his skin and everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Breathing in warmth and something fresh he moved his eyes beneath his eyelids and tried to move his arm. He inhaled sharply when he felt the keen ache all throughout his bones.

He groaned and rested his head back on the soft object, most likely a pillow. The memories came back, crisp and clear. He opened his eyes and stared at the high ceiling above him. Had Hydrangea seen all that? Seen him killing left and right?

He heard a gasp to his right and turned his head to see Hydrangea sitting next to him. Her lips turned up onto the happiest smile he'd seen on her, "You're awake."

He was stunned. He couldn't recall a time where he'd seen such a radiant look on her face. Her eyes sparkled and her teeth shone beneath her soft, peach coloured lips.

"Bastian?" She turned her head and asked, the smile only diminishing slightly.

He blinked out of the stupor her beauty had put him in, and smiled softly at her, "Yes, I'm awake."

She beamed at him and he smiled a smile of disbelief. He wished he could see her this joyous every day, see her eyes shining with happiness every hour. He'd rarely seen such an expression upon her face, and hardly ever with him.

It made his chest expand with joy that she'd smiled because of him.

His eyes glanced around the room. Behind Hydrangea was a row of pillars, made of stacked bricks each with their own pattern and colour, that led outside. It was still raining. In front of the pillars were potted plants and some low braziers.

He moved his gaze back to her and gave her a questioning look. Her smile changed and he saw teasing behind her eyes. "The Tlatoani gifted us this house."

He opened his mouth, "How?"

Her smile wavered, "After we were separated I was brought to a house and made to wear these clothes." He then looked down from her eyes and his widened a fraction at the fabric adorning her body. A small square of cloth fell from her shoulders and covered her navel, but left her waist open to the air. He sucked in a breath. "Once I was dressed," She continued, "I was brought to the arena…" Her voice trailed off, as did her eyes.

He watched her expression, waiting for the fear or the anger, he would even understand hatred from her at what he'd done in the arena.

But he found none of those emotions in her eyes and when she brought them back to meet his gaze, he saw worry. "Are you alright?"

His lips parted and he scoffed lightly at his thoughts. He did not deserve this woman; this pure, loving woman.

"Other than the fact that my entire body aches, I'm fine." He smiled at her.

She licked her lips and he inhaled deeply. "While you were fighting I finally gathered enough courage to speak to the Tlatoani."

His eyes hardened at this, "What happened?"

"He said that he would help us… and once we have our country back, we will help them with Mathuba."

He watched as she wrung her hands. She was nervous about how he'd react. He laughed in shock, "You're saying that he'll expect us to be able to help him once we've regained our country? Once we've regained Cadarama we will have to get everything back into order. Our army will be in a very fragile state. If either Selva or Mathuba wanted, they would most likely be able to wipe us out."

Her face paled and she bit her lip, "Then what are we going to do?"

He thought for a few seconds, "We'll tell him that we won't be able to help him." He met her grey eyes, "But, if I know the nature of the Tlatoani, he will not be pleased. So, till then, we'll just stall."