Chapter 14
There was no denying that the apparatus Edwina required to carry out this unpleasant task was imposing.
Indeed, it would be fair to say that they resembled nothing so much as implements of medieval torture.
And in that dark and dreadful era, they may well have been used for that very purpose rather than for genuine healing.
A series of heavy leather straps were affixed to a table in the healer’s chamber, as well as several large blocks of wood positioned to stabilize the head and limbs of the person being operated upon.
Next to the table was a tray of wicked-looking instruments meant to slice through flesh and, if needed, saw through bone.
As Edwina surveyed these implements (all while being observed by the McDougal healers), she felt a dark flutter in her stomach and momentarily worried that she might swoon. Yes, she had observed such procedures before. Yes, she had assisted with them, and with great success.
This, however, would be quite different, and she knew it well. This time, she would be in charge of the entire affair, and any failure during it would be squarely hers. If he lost his leg, it would be her fault. If he perished during the operation, there would be no one to blame but her.
She had given James her word that she was the best-equipped person in these lands to perform such surgery on him successfully.
To a degree, that seemed to be true; the nearest person who might have been more accomplished at it was Drusilla herself, and she was back at Castle Wallace, where she was needed most. Although Edwina had a strong urge to put off the entire thing and beg Drusilla to come and do it instead, she knew that the Wallace clan could not spare their wisest and most skilled healer, even to come to the aid of an ally.
That was simply not how things were done.
Besides, the longer wait would do terrible things to James’s fortitude, and she knew it.
The stress and dread of anticipation might drag him back into unreason and undo some of the good progress they’d made.
She did not want to risk that, even if it meant she would have to conduct the entire thing herself.
She tried to tell herself that this was a safe place for her to commit to this undertaking, that no one would expect more from her than they would from any healer at this task, and since no healer could guarantee a pleasant outcome, they would understand fully that she could not do so either.
It was one thing to tell herself this and another entirely to know she would have to live with the results, whatever they might be.
She felt more highly scrutinized than any healer and was consumed with worry that if she failed, she would be denounced as a dilettante who should never have pretended to know more than she did.
Balderdash, she thought grimly. I know precisely as much as I think I do in this regard, and I shall apply my knowledge accordingly. I will save this man, by God, whatever it takes.
She checked everything over one final time to be sure it was all in order, then turned to Fergus and nodded. “Bring him in, please.”
Fergus went into the corridor and came back with James, who, when he saw all that had been laid out for him, seemed to go weak in the knees for the briefest of moments.
Edwina felt for him, but she tried to keep her face impassive. This was what he needed to see now—the countenance of one who was about to operate on him with complete confidence. She did not dare betray any emotion for fear that he might lose his nerve and change his mind.
And if he did that? Then the odds of her being able to save him would diminish greatly.
Instead, though, he summoned all his courage and forced a smile in her direction. “Are you quite certain this is all you will require to get the job done? Perhaps you might require a sharpened pendulum as well, or some thumb-screws or a rack to stretch me on?”
She was encouraged by his valiant attempt at humor. “We shall reserve those for next time, perhaps. For now, though, if you will be so good as to lie down on the table, we shall begin.”
James nodded and did as he was told, and she rolled up the leg of his trousers to expose the wound.
Sure enough, it did look far less red and angry than it had when she first arrived, and she believed that was a good sign that this procedure would be a greater success than the previous one that had been performed on him.
After all, most of the shards of metal had already been removed, in theory, hadn’t they? All she needed to do was take out the one or two that remained, and all would be well.
Finding them, though… would be the real challenge.
The healers secured the blocks and straps around James, and she could see him steadily growing paler by the moment until his complexion looked positively green. She turned to Fergus. “You will need to place a strip of leather between his teeth so that he may bite down upon it when the pain comes.”
Fergus did as he was told.
Edwina leaned over James and ran her fingers through his hair briefly to comfort him.
It seemed to help, and his ragged breathing slowed a bit.
“Being a proud and brave man,” she said, “and a warrior at heart, you may be inclined to attempt to stifle your screams. However, I would encourage you to remember that you are among friends who will not judge you unkindly in this moment while you are at your extremes. Do not restrain yourself, for it will only make the process more strenuous for you.”
He nodded, but she got the distinct impression that he might attempt to control his screams anyway, out of sheer force of habit.
That was all right. She was sure the moment would come when he could hold them back no longer, and she was prepared for that.
“I know the straps appear formidable,” she told Fergus, “but nevertheless, I will need you to put the fullness of your weight upon your brother in order to hold him steady. The more he thrashes, the greater the risk of damaging his leg unnecessarily.”
“I understand completely.” Fergus pressed down on James, who was looking more scared and doubtful by the second.
There was nothing left for Edwina to do but to cut and pray.
She picked up the knife and made the initial incision, reopening the original knife wound as neatly as possible. James’s breathing grew harder and more panicked, and his muscles bulged, but he refused to make a sound.
Next, Edwina used a tool to gently splay the wound, searching inside it as best she could. She wished she could have a closer source of light to do so, but she did not dare use a candle for fear that some of the wax might drip into the hole and worsen things significantly.
The blood welled up immediately in the wound, pouring over onto the table beneath his leg.
“You will need to clear the blood for me,” Edwina told one of the healers, “and keep doing so frequently so that I may see what I’m doing.”
The healer stepped forward with a wet cloth and squeezed it over the hole. It worked, but only for a few moments at a time; the blood kept coming steadily, reminding Edwina that she had to be quick about her work and close the hole again, or else he might suffer too much blood loss to recover.
Unfortunately, continuing her work would mean widening the incision in order to find the missing piece of metal.
She cut into him again, and now a high-pitched whine began to emanate from his throat. She was tempted to glance up at his face to see the level of his pain, but she knew that would serve no purpose now. That was beyond her control; the task at hand was not and demanded her immediate attention.
Still, no blade fragments, and the amount of blood that was collecting beneath him was becoming alarming.
It suddenly occurred to Edwina that in such matters, she had more than just Drusilla’s teachings to lean on.
She had the knowledge she’d accumulated from watching her brothers practice cuts and thrusts with their own daggers—the angles they approached from in their attacks, to sink the blade in deepest and do the most damage to their opponents.
Edwina had been looking at the matter all wrong, to some degree, just as the healers had.
She had been focused on the superficial location of the wound but not how it might have sliced through the musculature more deeply and which angle the blade would have taken.
These attackers, according to accounts, had not been the usual sorts of bandits, had they?
No, they’d shown far more skill than that in the particulars of their assault.
They would surely have known how to strike, just as her brothers had.
She followed that line of reasoning, and in doing so, she did something that she knew would be vile and distasteful for all concerned.
She put the knife aside and gently slid her finger into the wound, feeling around inside.
Now James screamed, and the sound was jagged and piercing, like a wild animal being torn apart. He thrashed, and Fergus pressed down on him even harder, his face pinched and anguished. From the corner of her eye, Edwina could see Fergus staring at her desperately, silently begging her to finish.
But she could not. Not until she’d done what she went there to do.
She followed the pattern of cut tissue up into the leg, and sure enough, she felt something hard and sharp press against the tip of her finger. There it was. Now it only needed to be removed.
Unfortunately, there was no easy way to do that. Especially when there was no way for her to fully see what she was doing without cutting him far wider—and she had no desire to do that, for in doing so, she knew she might do him more harm than good.
Edwina picked up a long, narrow clamp with a pointed tip and carefully inserted it into the wound. James’s screeching reached a hideous pitch, and his back was arched off the table despite Fergus’s best efforts to keep him down.
She closed the clamp on what she thought was the metal and pulled it out…but no. Instead, she had simply managed to tear free a few stray bloody sinews.
Back inside, then.
The second time, James’s shrieking climbed even higher until it was barely recognizable as a voice anymore; it more closely resembled the wailing of the wind on a stormy night, filling the room completely until it abruptly cut off.
“He is insensate,” Fergus told her breathlessly before she could inquire, “but still alive. Now please, in the name of God, I beg you…!”
“Give me silence, please, that I may save your brother’s life,” she interrupted sharply, closing the clamp around something again. She was sure this time… This had to be it…
And when she pulled the clamp free of his flesh, she saw that it gripped the barest sliver of rusty metal.
That was it, then. She had succeeded in finding and removing the offending piece of blade.
She rapidly applied the stitches to close the wound and told the healers to apply a tight bandage to it so that he would lose no more blood. They did so, clearly relieved that their master had survived the experience and that they were being asked to do something they were actually qualified for.
“Will he recover?” Fergus demanded, his body covered by a sheen of sweat, his clothing plastered to his skin.
“Yes,” Edwina answered, rinsing her bloody hands in a bowl of water and watching the healers finish. “We shall keep the wound clear of infection this time, and he will most certainly recover.”
Fergus breathed a sigh of relief. “Then you have my eternal gratitude, Lady Edwina!”
“There’s no need for that,” she assured him.
“We are family, and so I am glad I could aid you. Now, if you will excuse me, I find that I am quite exhausted from these tribulations. I shall return to my room to rest. Allow James to remain here until he has healed enough to be safely moved. I will check in on him shortly.”
Edwina went up the stairs on shaky legs, scarcely able to believe what she had achieved. She was a novice, an apprentice at best, yet she had accomplished a miracle the local healers had not been able to manage on their own.
It felt like the greatest triumph of her life.
She shut the door of her guest chamber behind her and suddenly collapsed onto the floor, sobbing hard. The pressure had sprung upon her without warning, like a lion pouncing on its prey after stalking it unseen.
Edwina remained that way for a long time, hugging her knees to her chest and trembling violently, offering up a hundred prayers of thanks to whoever would listen.