Chapter 26 #2
I don’t dare correct him. I might not be a healer, but I know enough.
Iris’s eyes are uncertain, and I try to give her my most assuring glance. “May I see the injury?”
August nods in reassurance before Iris lifts up her hands, and I don’t let my inner reaction show. I don’t blink an eye at the pus oozing from raw burns that engulf both of her palms. When August said she was burned, I didn’t expect it to be this bad. The burns are deep and infected.
“I used to be a force with a needle and thread,” she says, her voice weak, and as my eyes adjust to the light, I notice just how pale she looks. “Now I cannot simply pull my sheets back without being in agony.”
I hold her forearm, gently twisting her wrist so I can see the extent of the damage. “I can understand why,” I say. “Are you feeling nauseous? Hot and cold?” I ask.
“Mostly hot, yes.” August’s eyes flick between his wife and me.
“You have a nasty infection, Iris,” I say. “Untreated burns can often lead to such things.”
“Can you help her?” August leans forward, and I feel Rylan’s energy hyper-aware behind me.
“I can do my best,” I say. “I am going to put some honey on it.” I turn around, beckoning Rylan to hand me the medical box. “It should help calm things down, and we will wrap it in cloth, sealing it in. Hopefully that should help, but we will have to keep a close eye on it.”
A tear slips down her cheek. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me quite yet,” I say. “I am going to need to clean it with alcohol first.”
Iris lets out a shaky sigh. “Do what you must.”
I nod before turning to find Rylan still standing nearby. “Perhaps you two could fetch me some hot water. I shall make her a sage and rosemary tea to help with the infection.”
Rylan’s knuckles graze my shoulder as he nods before turning his attention to August. “You’ll show me the way?” He hesitates, his eyes catching on his wife.
“She will be all right for now,” I say. “I will find you if she calls for it.”
He furrows his bottom lip between his teeth, nodding even as his eyes read uncertainty. “All right,” he says. “I will return soon.”
Iris bids him a warm smile before he and Rylan disappear out the creaky door. She lets out the smallest of laughs. “He has barely left my side since the day it happened,” she says.
I smile as I reach for the small bottle of alcohol and cloths tucked into the corner of my medicine box.
“He needs the break,” she continues. “I had to force him out with Evander this morning. I suppose it is lucky he listened to me.”
“You must have a way with persuasion.” I smile, popping the small cork and holding the cloth to the opening of the bottle.
“I was far better at it when I had use of my hands.” I nearly cough as a laugh escapes my throat, choking on thin air. Iris chuckles from where she lies in the bed, her chest shaking.
“We'd better get them all fixed up then, shall we?” I say through a grin.
Hers falters. “Will it hurt?”
“At first,” I say. “But it will make a big difference in how you heal.”
She simply nods, her jaw feathering. “All right then, no help in waiting.”
I smile, impressed by her strength as I pour the alcohol onto the cloth and press it to Iris’s palm. She instantly pulls a sharp breath between her teeth. “For the love of the gods,” she grits out.
“I know,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
I lift the cloth away, dabbing at the weeping spots where her flesh burned deeper, cleaning away as much of the visible infection as I can with a gentle hand.
I fold the cloth over, adding more alcohol and dabbing further up her wrist. She lets out a muffled groan. The burns are horrible. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any this bad before.
“They set me alight with their torches,” she says quietly.
I don’t take my eyes away from my work, thinking perhaps she feels okay saying it while I’m not looking her in the eye.
“I found a campsite. The fire was out and cold. There was no trace of anyone, nothing there except a crate of fresh food.” She hisses as I move to work on her other hand.
“Halfway there,” I mutter. I see her nodding out of the corner of my eye.
“It was foolish really. I should have walked away. But I thought of the look on the children’s faces if I were to walk through the main cave with that crate in my arms. But they were there, hiding, waiting for someone to fall into their trap.”
This time I look up. “I’m so sorry, Iris.”
She bites the inside of her cheek as she shakes her head. “Like I said, I was foolish.”
“You were hopeful,” I say. “There is a difference.” As I say the words, I realise how true they really are.
“It mattered little when I was held down, their torches pressed against my palms.” Her tears come on like a violent wave. “I was surprised at first…that they let me go. But I understood soon after. They wanted to use me as an example, to show everyone exactly what they are capable of.”
I squeeze the cork back into the bottle and tuck it away. “They didn’t follow you back here?”
“I spent days in the forest, moving in circles to make sure they didn’t know where I was heading.”
The infection would have started then. Days exposed to the elements and bits of dust that found a home in her newly burnt flesh.
“It sounds as though you were very brave,” I say, unscrewing the lid on the jar of honey.
“My son doesn’t seem to think so,” she murmurs.
“Evander doesn’t feel proud of you?”
“Proud of what?” she asks. “He believes I should have stayed here like he asked, let him and the other young men do the scouting as if it matters less if they got hurt, or worse.” She shakes her head. “Perhaps I should have listened to him.”
I cannot blame her for wanting to get out, to find purpose beyond these caves. But perhaps if she hadn’t gone, it would be Evander with the blistered palms. I cannot say which scenario is better or worse. This is the one that exists, and these are the palms I am working on.
The both of us sit in comfortable silence as I work. The honey glides over her uneven skin with ease, and I wrap her hands with linen in hopes that it will aid the absorption of the honey into the wounds.
Just as I am cutting the end of the linen and tucking it away, loud clamouring comes from outside the hut, and male voices raise for everyone to hear. I happen to recognise one of those voices.
“That is Evander,” Iris says, attempting to sit up.
“And Rylan,” I add. “Stay there,” I say, rising from my stool. “I will be back in a moment.”
She sinks back into her pillow even though I know she aches to rush outside and into whatever awaits past the small door I push through.
I walk around the curved edge of the hut to see a small crowd of people formed in the middle of the courtyard.
I push through the bodies, and that’s when I see Rylan standing face to face with Evander, both of them with broadswords held firmly in their grip—where Rylan acquired one, I have no idea, though I am not surprised at all.
“Your ego is far more fragile than I anticipated,” Rylan says, that smirk of his hitching the corner of his mouth.
Evander’s eyes burn with fury, his jaw feathering the same way his mother’s did in the dark as he holds the sword up to Rylan’s neck. My heart nearly flies out of my chest.
I ignore the boundary line people have created, leaving enough room for the men to move around in like cattle in a pen, and walk straight up to them.
Evander watches me, his eyes narrowing as I approach Rylan’s back.
“Nice of you to join us, Rosie,” he says, not moving an inch, as if my mere presence is recognisable to him.
“Yes, well, I wouldn’t be out here if I couldn’t hear your voice from Iris’s bedside. Aren’t you supposed to be getting me hot water?”
“My apologies for the disruption,” he says. “I was simply trying to show Evander here the correct way to fight with a broadsword.”
I don’t question how he knows how to fight with a broadsword—there’s not enough time for his vague answers right now. “How well is that going for you?” I ask.
“It could be better if the boy weren’t so stubborn as to not see his own faults.”
“Call me boy one more time…” Evander grits out, his grip on his sword tightening.
“Evander,” I say over Rylan’s shoulder. His nostrils flare as he drags his eyes from Rylan’s smug face to mine. “I am trying to help your mother in there, but I cannot do my job if you murder my companion.”
“He doesn’t seem like he’s much help in that department. Glorified bodyguard, more like. Luggage carrier at best.”
“Evander,” I snap. I shouldn’t have done it, but it came out instinctively. I take a small step further behind Rylan, and just when I think Evander might press his sword into Rylan’s neck, he steps away.
A breath rushes out of me as the crowd slowly disperses and Evander disappears, storming into the mouth of a cave.
I push on Rylan’s chest as soon as he turns around. “I leave you alone for one second,” I say.
His eyes sparkle as he looks down at me. “I quite like it when you are domineering.”
“Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “And where is the water?”