Chapter 21
Everything had felt like it was moving in slow motion when Beowulf watched Thedrick get hit by three arrows to the back out of seemingly nowhere. The jester coughed blood out of his mouth, and red patches formed on the white linen of his clothing around the wounds. Beowulf had reached out and grabbed the small man, quickly pulling him against his chest to protect him, even though it might already have been too late.
Beowulf jumped to his feet, holding the vampire close against his body, and looked in the direction the arrows had travelled from, which must have been elevated given their angle of flight. He could see a figure running past the open windows on the second floor, and though he couldn’t make out much about them, Beowulf knew who it must be. The vampire hunter.
The large soldier started moving, running back into the castle while shouting at the nearest guards to go get Cassian and pursue the attacker. The guards looked at Beowulf holding the wounded Thedrick with confusion for a moment, but when he yelled at them again they jumped into action. Beowulf then headed for the infirmary as fast as he could.
As he ran, Beowulf looked down at Thedrick who he held firmly in his arms. The vampire had his eyes closed, and was coughing, while the red stains on his shirt continued to grow. Fear seized Beowulf as he prayed desperately that the arrows hadn’t hit Thedrick’s heart. The soldier practically knocked down the door to the infirmary as he roughly shouldered his way through it, before running over to a startled looking Balthasar.
“Gods be good, what happened?” Balthasar snapped as Beowulf held Thedrick out slightly to show him. Beowulf saw real fear in the chirurgeon’s eyes for the first time as he stared down at the wounded vampire. “Quickly, lay him on one of the beds, on his side,” Balthasar instructed before Beowulf could even begin to try and answer his first question.
Beowulf did as he was told, laying Thedrick gently down on a bed on his side. The soldier kneeled beside the bed, keeping one hand holding onto Thedrick’s side as the small man continued to cough. Balthasar had stepped over to his desk to grab some tools, and came hurrying back with them. He also fell to his knees on the other side of the bed, and reached out to touch Thedrick as he examined the wounds.
“I don’t think any hit his heart, but they probably tore through his lungs which is why he is coughing up blood,” Balthasar said, his usual clinical tone wavering slightly.
“Can you save him?” Beowulf asked in a panicked tone.
“I don’t know Beowulf!” Balthasar snapped with a look of stress. “But I will damn well try. Now hold him still.”
Beowulf placed his large hands on the jester’s small body to hold him in place while Balthasar started snapping off the arrow heads poking out of Thedrick’s chest. Then he switched places with Beowulf, moving around the back and started carefully pulling the arrow shafts out. Thedrick went quiet and limp.
“Quick now, roll him on his back and apply heavy pressure to the wounds!” Balthasar instructed, and Beowulf obliged, rolling Thedrick over and then pressing his large hands down heavily on the wounds in Thedrick’s chest. He could feel the jester still breathing shallowly under his hands.
“I’m so sorry Thedrick… I shouldn’t have believed him when he said he was going to leave… I shouldn’t have taken you outside and put you in danger…” Beowulf sniffled as tears began to well in his eyes while he looked down at the vampire’s pale face.
“Stop your crying boy, it isn’t going to help him,” Balthasar snapped in annoyance as he was pulling open Thedrick’s shirt, working around where Beowulf was applying pressure. “Now lift this hand,” he tapped gently on one of Beowulf’s hands with a finger, and Beowulf removed it from the wound. Balthasar quickly uncovered the wound, wiped some of the pooled blood away with a cloth and then pressed a piece of cotton gauze covered with some sort of poultice against the wound, before grabbing Beowulf’s hand and pressing it down over the wound again.
The chirurgeon quickly did the same for the other two wounds which were closer together under Beowulf’s other hand. Soon they all had a poultice covered piece of gauze that Beowulf was pressing down hard against them. Then Balthasar proceeded to examine Thedrick more closely, pressing an ear against a bare spot on his chest to listen to his breathing and heart, and also checking his airway.
“I’m surprised he’s still breathing,” the chirurgeon muttered, which made Beowulf’s heart ache. “I know vampires are supposed to be quite tough but he really isn’t.”
Beowulf kept his eyes on the unconscious jester’s pale face, begging the gods to help save him.
“I guess he is lucky he is so small and thin that the arrows passed right through him and the heads didn’t get stuck inside him,” Balthasar continued to muse out loud, much to Beowulf’s distress.
They knelt there in silence for several minutes, and Beowulf had to remember to try and breathe properly. Then Balthasar checked how the wounds were going, and instructed Beowulf to pull off Thedrick’s shirt and turn the jester over so he could clean and dress the entry wounds on his back. Then the chirurgeon proceeded to wrap the vampire's chest in tight bandages which would press the dressings down on the wounds, maintaining some pressure.
“He was already in a weakened state from the spell and not having eaten in two days… he really needs some strength to fight this…” Balthasar noted aloud, and then looked at Beowulf. “Take off your armour, expose your shoulder,” he instructed in an eerily calm manner.
Beowulf was a bit shocked by the request at first, but after a stern look from the chirurgeon he did as he was told. He pulled off his cloak and brigandine, then unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the collar to the side. Then suddenly Balthasar was coming at him with a knife, startling him. Beowulf barely had any time to react before the chirurgeon pierced the skin of his shoulder, drawing blood.
Beowulf gave Balthasar a scared and hurt look while the chirurgeon had turned his attention towards Thedrick again. He held out the blood covered tip of the knife just under Thedrick’s nose. Suddenly the jester’s eyes snapped open while he let out a gasp, and Balthasar pulled the knife away.
Then the vampire, somehow ignoring the pain he must have been in, lurched up into a sitting position and then towards Beowulf, heading straight for Beowulf’s shoulder, where he suddenly sank his fangs in and started drinking. The soldier tensed up for a moment, before trying to relax, and then wrapped his arms around the vampire’s bandaged body to hold and support him while he fed.
Beowulf felt tears springing into his eyes again. “He’s alive…” he said in a breathy whisper, hardly able to believe it. He bowed his head slightly to nuzzle into Thedrick’s hair. The vampire appeared to be barely even conscious, feeding with his eyes closed and body partially limp.
“For now at least,” Balthasar muttered as he started tidying up. The chirurgeon seemed to be very much a realist rather than an optimist.
Beowulf held onto Thedrick tightly as he got to his feet so he could then turn around and take a seat on the bed. Thedrick was now somewhat kneeling in his lap and leaning against him while he continued to feed. “You take as much blood as you need, even if you knock me out I won’t mind,” Beowulf assured gently. Thedrick didn’t reply, and Beowulf wasn’t sure he had even heard him.
“You know it’s not all your fault Beowulf,” Balthasar started as he cleaned his tools. “While I didn’t fully believe what the hunter said, I still thought Thedrick would be safe enough to go out in the courtyard with you for a few moments. But clearly the hunter realised he wouldn’t be able to get near Thedrick with you around, and so went for a different tactic, and was waiting and ready for his chance.”
“I’m going to kill him,” Beowulf growled lowly, narrowing his eyebrows over his eyes into a scowl.
“Oh? And how exactly are you going to get your hands on him to do that?” Balthasar asked doubtfully. “He’s had days to plan this, you know he’ll have escaped the castle already without being caught, and I doubt you’ll be able to find where he has fled to.”
Beowulf clenched his teeth. “But I can’t just sit here,” he began with a scowl.
“Oh yes you can! You’ll stay right there and help and protect Thedrick,” Balthasar ordered, not looking as though he would take too kindly to any protest from Beowulf. “After all, if Thedrick does pull through and the hunter finds out, what do you think he’s going to do? I don’t think an unconfirmed kill will sit very well with him.”
“So we wait for him to return to try and kill Thedrick again?” Beowulf asked, not feeling very happy about that idea despite the fact it may give him a chance to exact revenge on the hunter. Beowulf reached up and gently stroked the vampire’s pale hair as Thedrick continued to feed on him, his breathing slightly rattly from the blood in his lungs.
“Yes, though we are going to have to try and be smart about this, the hunter is no fool,” Balthasar mused, now taking a seat on the bed across from the one Beowulf sat on. “Things could also get complicated. People, including the king and queen, might ask questions about why the famous vampire hunter tried to kill Thedrick, so we will have to try and protect Thedrick’s secret and throw people off the truth.” Balthasar paused, eyes resting on the vampire pressed up against Beowulf's chest. “Well… for now, let's help him try and get through this.”
Beowulf nodded, returning his attention to Thedrick as Balthasar got to his feet again and moved away. Beowulf fought the urge to chase after the vampire hunter, he knew Balthasar was right and Thedrick needed him more here right now.
Eventually Beowulf ended up laying down on the bed, resting Thedrick on his chest, just in case he lost consciousness from the vampire taking too much blood. After a while Thedrick finally seemed to finish feeding, pulling his fangs out before promptly passing out laying against Beowulf’s chest with a stomach full of blood. Beowulf stroked Thedrick’s hair gently, listening to his rattly breathing with concern.
Though he didn’t remember doing so, Beowulf must have fallen asleep too, because the next thing he knew he was being gently shaken awake by Balthasar. Beowulf opened his eyes and groggily looked up at the stern face of the chirurgeon.
“I need to check his wounds and clean them,” Balthasar explained, gesturing for Beowulf to sit up. Beowulf pushed himself up into a sitting position with one hand while holding Thedrick against his chest with his other. Once he was upright, he slowly pulled the vampire away from his chest.
Thedrick let out a groan before breaking into a coughing fit, blood flying from his mouth and spattering across Beowulf shirt. Once he got his coughing under control, the jester looked up at Beowulf with unfocused eyes.
“Thedrick, you’re awake!” Beowulf exclaimed, feeling some amount of relief surge through him.
“Unfortunately…” Thedrick responded in a quiet, raspy voice, wincing.
“I’m so glad you’re alive!” Beowulf continued, repressing the urge to squeeze the little man tightly in his arms. He held him out away from his body so Balthasar could have easy access to start removing the bandages from around Thedrick’s chest.
“Well I’m not,” Thedrick said wearily, letting out another weak cough. “Gods… it hurts so much… I think I’d rather be dead…” He grimaced with pain as Balthasar removed the blood soaked gauze from the wounds.
“Don’t say that!” Beowulf objected adamantly, frowning down at Thedrick. He held the vampire steady in place while Thedrick tried to flinch away from Balthasar cleaning his wounds. The chirurgeon then pulled out the needle and thread, and started suturing the wounds. Tears fell from Thedrick’s downturned eyes during the process.
Once the chirurgeon had finished redressing Thedrick’s wounds, Beowulf reached out and cupped the jester's chin in one hand, lifting his face up again to look into his eyes. Thedrick looked despondent, frowning and not meeting Beowulf’s gaze. Beowulf gently pulled the jester in against his chest, where Thedrick rested his head while he sniffled.
“Don’t worry Thedrick, I won’t let the hunter hurt you again, I’ll protect you better this time, I promise,” Beowulf attempted to reassure, rubbing Thedrick’s shoulders.
“Oh gods… he’s going to be coming back to finish me off!” Thedrick cried out in distress, pushing himself up against Beowulf chest more as his small body started to tremble in fear. He let out a few wet coughs.
“I’d like to see him try… when I get my hands on him, I will tear him limb from limb,” Beowulf claimed, almost growling with anger.
Just then Beowulf heard the door to the infirmary open, and he looked around to see who it was, still scowling. As he turned his head he noticed Balthasar, who had returned to his desk, also looked up at who had entered. Both their eyes fell on Cassian, who was striding towards Balthasar’s desk, bushy brows pulled together in worry.
“My men have been searching the town, but there has been no sign of him,” the officer reported unhappily, glancing over at Beowulf who was still cradling Thedrick close to his chest.
“As I expected,” Balthasar commented emotionlessly. “He’s no idiot. He’ll have gone into hiding until he hears news as to whether Thedrick survived his assassination attempt or not.”
“Could we just spread a lie that the jester is dead, to get the hunter to leave the kingdom?” Cassian asked, stroking his beard pensively.
Balthasar made an expression of uncertainty. “We could, but probably sooner or later he’ll learn the truth and come back to try and kill him again anyway,” he pointed out. “It would be better to try and stop him while we are expecting an attack and are on our guard. Give us an opportunity to plan for and control the situation.”
“And how exactly are we going to stop him from trying to kill Thedrick?” Cassian asked, raising one brow questioningly.
“I’ll kill him,” Beowulf growled lowly as he continued to caress Thedrick comfortingly.
“No Beowulf, you won’t,” Balthasar said firmly, scowling at the soldier now. “You’d likely be thrown into the dungeons for that. Besides, this man isn’t necessarily evil, he’s saved a lot of people from vampires across the land. He just seems to have a bad case of black and white morals,” the chirurgeon explained.
“So then what do we do?” Cassian pressed Balthasar for answers as to what he might be thinking.
Balthasar sighed and shrugged. “The best we can do is to convince Richard and Vivienne that Thedrick has been falsely accused, and get them to banish the hunter from the kingdom if he won’t back down. We are lucky that the monarchs are very fond of Thedrick, so hopefully it shouldn’t take too much to convince them, and also likely they won’t take too well to someone having nearly killed their jester.”
“But what if the hunter tries to sneak back into the kingdom and kill Thedrick?” Cassian asked with worry.
“Then I guess we kill him,” Balthasar relented, looking displeased about that outcome though.
“Alright, I guess this is the best we can do,” Cassian agreed, though also still looking rather unsure. “I’ll start getting the word out around town that Thedrick survived to lure the hunter back here and then pull the guards off the streets so he’ll come out of hiding.”
Balthasar got to his feet, straightening out his vest. “And I will go and speak to the royals, appraise them of the situation but with the lie that Thedrick has been misidentified as a vampire. Shouldn’t be too hard, everyone has seen Thedrick out in the sun after all.”
“What should I do?” Beowulf asked forlornly.
“You stay put and take care of Thedrick, keep him safe and let him feed on you if he needs to,” Balthasar ordered as he stepped over towards Cassian.
“But…” Beowulf started to protest weakly.
“Do as he says Beowulf. Trust in Balthasar, he has more smarts then the rest of us combined,” Cassian said with a smile while tapping the side of his head.
“Why thank you dear,” Balthasar said in a deadpan tone as he stepped around Cassian and headed for the door. Beowulf noticed the surprised look crossed Cassian’s features as he stood there in shock for a moment. A slight hint of pink started creeping up the officer’s cheeks before he spun around and quickly followed the chirurgeon out of the infirmary.
Beowulf sighed and looked back down at Thedrick, who was breathing slowly in his arms with his eyes closed. The soldier grabbed a blanket off the end of the bed and used it to cover the vampire’s slight figure to try and help keep him warm while he rested in Beowulf’s arms.