Lucas froze there for a moment, not sure exactly what it was he should do next. No, that wasn’t right. He knew exactly what he needed to do, but he wasn’t really sure he wanted to do it.

He could still bleed out from this, he told himself. You know that, right? Having a knife doesn’t make you a surgeon.

Lucas took a deep breath to calm his beating heart, and then he gave the bolt an experimental tug. He felt the Viscount’s body spasm, but it did not come out on its own.

“Of course not,” Lucas sighed. He’d stitched up a few of his buddies before after they’d gotten beat down before, but other than advanced pharmacology, that was about as deep as his medical skills went.

They’re going to go a whole lot deeper tonight, though, he thought as he brought the knife to the other man’s skin and traced a dark line of blood that looked black in the starlight as he began to cut.

The first thing Lucas did was cut around the shaft, but when that didn’t seem to be enough, he cut a slightly larger cross into the flesh to work it free. The bolt came out a few seconds later, and Lord Parin hadn’t come out of his stupor to scream.

He’d writhed in pain for a moment as Lucas had finally pulled the blood-slick arrow shaft out, but he’d quickly slumped back into his narcotic slumber once that was over. As it stood, he would have been perfectly content to lay there until he bled out, but Lucas wasn’t having that. Not after all the hard work he’d done to keep this asshole alive.

As soon as the bolt was out, he checked to make sure the whole thing had come out and was relieved to see it wasn’t barbed. After that, he tossed it aside, poured the rest of the cure light wound potion in the wound, and started to sew the man up.

While he wasn’t sure a potion would help when used intravenously like that, he was fairly sure it wasn’t going to hurt anything, and for now, that was enough. After another minute, his stitch job was enough to keep the wound closed, but it was an ugly thing, and Lucas was sure that it was going to leave a nasty scar.

Every minute of it was messy and more than a little unnerving, but honestly, he was glad that he’d given in and dosed the Viscount. Lucas wasn’t sure he would have been able to do this to a squirming, screaming man, even if it was for his own good.

Even after that, the man was still bleeding as bad as he’d been at the beginning of the night, though. So, once he was sure that the puncture wound was going to stay closed, he switched to making a sort of compressing bandage out of what he had, which wasn’t much.

“I’d kill for an ace bandage right about now,” he grumbled to himself.

He didn’t have them, though, so instead, he just wound long strips of linen around the unconscious body as many times as he could and used them to tie a big piece of wadded-up tablecloth to the wound, pressing tightly against it to try to stop the bleeding.

It worked, at least to some degree. Lucas could still see some staining on them, of course, but he had no idea if that was from the wound or from his own blood-covered hands.

He was honestly glad it was dark. He could only imagine how covered in blood he was right now, and he didn’t have the stomach for that just now.

Instead, once he’d verified the man was still breathing evenly and that Lord Parin’s pulse felt normal, he cleaned himself up as best he could. “Should have grabbed a snack while I was in your house, man,” he said, looking at the comatose man. “Or some water, at least. I knew I was forgetting something.”

Those words sparked another memory, and he turned to the horse and started rifling through the small saddlebags. Surely, the man on duty had packed a lunch for the quiet night he’d expected rather than the eventful one he’d had, right?

Before he opened the nearest one, though, the house caught his eye. The lights were on, but Lucas didn’t see any torches anymore. Instead, he saw a group of riders heading back up the main road. It looked smaller, but he wasn’t a hundred percent sure about that.

Not that it mattered. Whether they could go back to the house was at least a tomorrow problem, and depending on how things went, it might be a lot further out than that. After all, as far as he was concerned, he’d done his good deed.

He saved me. I saved him. We’re even now, he told himself as he opened the first saddlebag to see if he was going to spend the rest of the night with his stomach growling at him.

It turned out that wasn’t going to be the case. Now that he was doing the right thing, his luck had returned to him.

In the left bag, Lucas found a cloth-wrapped parcel that contained cheese and cold sausage, and the right had a cloak and a jug. Unfortunately, the jug contained sour beer rather than water, but even so, he was happy to drink it as he sat down next to the Viscount, checked the man’s pulse again, and then chowed down on his meager feast.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Lucas did his best to keep a careful watch that night, but after everything he’d been through, that wasn’t to be, and sometime before dawn, when the horizon was just starting to turn blue and hinting at the sunrise to come, he finally passed out against the tree.

His dreams were hectic but unremarkable, and when he woke to the sound of footsteps, he immediately sprang to his feet and drew his bloody knife. “Who goes there!” Lucas called out, peering into the dark woods, expecting goblins or worse.

Fortunately, he was facing the wrong direction, and when someone cleared their throat behind him, Lucas whirled to find the old butler standing there looking smug. “Keeping a sharp lookout, I see,” Gerwin said smugly.

“Yeah, well… Long night,” Lucas said, lowering his weapon and rubbing his eyes.

“Quite,” the older man said, walking forward and depositing a small cloth-covered basket on the roots next to Lord Parin.

“How’s the house, anyway?” Lucas asked belatedly while the butler examined Lord Parin. “Did they give you guys too much trouble?”

“They woke everyone up and caused quite a mess that we are still in the midst of addressing,” the man answered stuffily, “But they believed our story because I was able to look their mage in the eye and swear that I hadn’t seen my master since he’d been arrested weeks before. Thankfully, he didn’t come in with you. If he had, well…”

“That’s good news!” Lucas beamed, trying to gloss over the unpleasantness of what might have happened. “Now we can put all this behind us and get on with our lives. If you’ll just help me carry Lord Parin back to the house or maybe come back with a wagon, we can—”

He was pretty sure they only got off so lightly because they’d been a noble’s house. From the stories he’d heard, mages had no trouble ripping apart people or buildings when they were after something. He just didn’t understand why the crown would pay a mage to hunt for an escaped Viscount. It seemed a little over the top.

“I’m afraid it won’t be that easy,” the butler answered with a shake of his head. “The city watch seems to think it likely that he will return at some point, so they are leaving a few men behind to spring a trap, just in case. ”

“I see…” Lucas said neutrally as he felt his heart sank. He should have known it wasn’t going to be quite so easy.

“So you’re here to take care of him or…” Lucas said hopefully, trying to find his way out of what he knew would happen next.

“I do believe that the guards will notice if house Parin’s head butler goes missing,” the butler said with a shake of his head. “No, you shall be required to take care of Adin a few days longer, I should think. That is why I brought you some supplies, as I shall do each morning when the guards are—”

“Man…” Lucas interrupted. “This is some bullshit. You think I don’t got better things to do? Those guys are after me, too, you know. I need to get as far from here as possible!”

“And you shall, Mr… no, it’s better I don’t know. I don’t want to know should the mage come back looking for you,” Gerwin answered with a shake of his head. “Take care of my mistress’s brother, and when this is all done, you shall be well rewarded. She has promised this herself. For now, she just wishes to make sure he’s safe, and you are the only one in easy reach who can help her with that.”

Lucas grumbled at that but let it go. A few coins would make it easier to get started wherever he ended up next, but more importantly, the smell of freshly baked muffins coming from the basket was driving him crazy.

So, after a few more minutes of idle chatter, where Lucas repeatedly assured him that the Viscount was going to be fine, the man finally left, leaving him alone with his unconscious charge once more.

It’s funny, he thought as he ate the first blueberry muffin he’d had since he’d come to the world. The man obviously has zero confidence in me, but he wants me to stay anyway. It’s almost like he’s not exactly on the Viscount’s side now, is it?

Such accusations weren’t even worth saying. They didn’t even rise to suspicion, really. If he’d wanted to sell them out, he’d had his chance last night.

“He’s just mad that I didn’t obey the proper forms to let Lord Parin die with dignity last night,” Lucas said finally, venting his complaint once his mouth was no longer full.

“Who is,” the Viscount asked weakly.

“Hey, look who’s not dead yet! Congrats, man, you made it!” Lucas said, pivoting smoothly to Lord Parin as soon as he showed signs of life.

In the broader scheme, he really didn’t give a shit about the man. His sister seemed earnest and kind, but Lucas got the impression that the Lord himself was too soft to be of much good to anyone, though right now, it was hard to judge him too harshly. Anyone would look like shit after spending a week in a dungeon and a night in the woods while being covered in blood.

“I kind of wish I was,” Adin whined.

Lucas nodded at that and helped the man drink some of the remaining beer to try to take the edge off. Then he told him the situation as best he understood it. Lucas told the Lord that his apartment in Greybottom was staked out, so they were stuck out here for a few days along with every other detail that came to mind. Strictly speaking, he didn't know if that was true, but it was best to assume that it was.

“So am I going to live?” The Viscount asked.

“I mean, you’ll probably be pissing blood for a week," Lucas answered with a grin, "but with a couple more potions to keep any infection away, you should be just fine.”

“How are we going to get more potions if we’re stuck out here?” the Lord asked. “It could be days before Gerwin comes back out.”

“It’s simple,” Lucas smiled. “We’ll make them ourselves.”