Aura by M.A. Abraham Page B

comatose man a disgusted frown then sighed in resignation.  It was not his fault he had been attacked by outlaws.  Nor was it his fault that he couldn’t manage to fight them all off on his own, after all, he was just some poor Joe who had ran into bad luck, not superman.

Aura was too tired to move the man at this moment.  She gathered some dry moss and wood to make a fire with, in order to provide them both with a little heat and light, to keep the more aggressive wildlife away while she rested and regained a little more strength.  She sat near the fire and ate a small meal.  While she recuperated she sewed up the wounds that needed attention.  The head wound, she decided, she would tend to when they got back to the cave.  After making sure that she had tended to his worst injuries, she sat back and watched him as she made plans.

He had not moved yet, which, to Aura, was both a blessing and a curse.  He had been hit on the head with that metal ball and there was a nasty bump under the untreated gash. Aura was sure that it was this injury that made him sleep.  She doubted if this sleep was a healthy one, although it had given her the opportunity to set his shoulder without being challenged.

Preoccupied as Aura was by her patient's problems, Aura failed to even notice the man himself.  To her he could have had three eyes, a flat nose and pox-marked complexion.  That was not the case though, for even in his sleep the pride he bore was plain to see and was stenciled throughout his body.  His character developed by years of responsibility and hard work.

Some might have considered his features handsome, his jaw strong, and his nose aristocratic.  His cheeks and chin were beginning to show a shadow from the new growth emerging from a formerly shaven beard. His chest barreled out, framed by arms well muscled, and tapered to an equally well-developed waist and hip.  There was nothing soft about this man, and even laying as he did, there was no mistaking his strength and maleness.  Aura saw him only as a patient, someone in need of what few medical skills she possessed, and she was determined to not fail.

After pondering their predicament for an hour, Aura rose.  She had, she hoped, come up with a workable solution, or at least something that had possibilities.

She had remembered watching a movie about how primitive peoples had made up stretchers to transport people.  She decided that, as the horse was well rested, she would take advantage of his strength.  She made her stretcher, finishing the last of it by the light of the fire, rolled her patient on to it then attached the apparatus to the horse. He snorted and flattened his ears back, as he rolled his eyes in objection then, sensing his master's presence, obeyed her commands, even to the point of letting her lead him by his reins.

The cave, as she had expected, was cold.  The fire had gone out hours before, and needed resetting.  She sighed deeply as she felt the humidity in the air.  It would take a long time to dry out her home before it was fit to be occupied.

Aura made a fire, and when it was burning to her satisfaction, she returned to her patient.  She untied him, and dragged him into the cave then left to tend to the horse.  The animal stood still while he tolerated her touch.  She removed his saddle and trappings then tied him to a tree with a long rope, before returning to his master.

The man was breathing irregularly when Aura re-examined him, taking short, shallow breaths, and although she knew it was unlikely that he would wake soon, she hesitated to touch him.  She had become aware of a sense of power and danger about him, and she felt unsettled by being forced to keep him company.  She couldn’t justify the change in her perception but it was there.  She gathered extra moss to make up a bed for him then transferred him from the stretcher to his new resting place.  By the time she had him moved and felt satisfied with her