Rumlok （Part 2）
"You must be Gareth," Rowena said, her voice hoarse.
Gareth crossed his arms, noticing sweat trailing down her temples and beading on her forehead and upper lip. She stood hunched and shivering. Her face was pale, lips chapped, dark circles framing bloodshot eyes.
He waited in silence for an explanation.
Feeling awkward, Rowena continued, "I want to thank you for your hospitality." Her words were barely a whisper, her breathing ragged. "Truly, we are in your debt."
"Are you?" Gareth retorted, doubt in his voice. "Because it appears to me you were trying to sneak off while I was away."
The Dissolver opened his mouth to speak, a pained, apologetic look on his face. Rowena cut him off.
"I'm sorry. I am grateful, truly. It's just—we're in a terrible hurry..." She trailed off, every word and breath a challenge.
"To go back to your home in Goldhaven?" Gareth finished for her.
"Y-Yes. Right." Rowena nodded weakly and fastened her cloak around her shoulders.
She limped toward the doorway, expecting Gareth to move. He stood firm, blocking the exit.
"You cannot go anywhere in your condition," he said.
"You are mistaken. I will be fine. There's medicine in Goldhaven," she rasped.
The Dissolver grabbed Rowena's arm, squeezing gently. "Rowena, maybe you should listen to him."
"No," she growled, irritation flaring. "We have to leave. Right now. Move, sir!"
Gareth placed his hands gently on her shoulders, guiding her back toward the bed. "Listen to me, you have a terrible fever. You're not thinking clearly—"
Noticing what he was doing, Rowena brushed his hands away. Delirious, she exclaimed, "You don't understand! I have to go. My father needs me."
She tried to shove Gareth aside, but a jolt of pain shot through her inflamed calf. Shuddering, she collapsed. Gareth caught and steadied her.
"Your wounds are infected," Gareth said sternly. "If you leave now, your blood will sour and you'll die." He took the plants out of his pocket and showed them to her. "I can help you. In a few days, you'll be able to leave. I'll even send you with supplies."
The Dissolver tugged at her cloak. "Rowena, please," he begged.
Rowena shook her head desperately. "No, please! I have to go! I can still save him!" she cried, eyes dry from dehydration.
"You can't save anybody if you don't save yourself first," Gareth said, finally losing his patience.
He lifted her with ease and carried her to the bed. She feebly resisted, but her strength failed. She could only whimper, pleading for him to let her go.
He laid her on the bed, uncapped his canteen, and poured cold water over her forehead, soaking her hair.
The icy shock confused her, calming her slightly. She lay there, breathless and tearless, mumbling. Gareth soaked a rag in cold water, folded it, and placed it on her forehead.
He removed her boots and unfastened her cloak. When he tried to take the scabbard from her shoulder, she resisted fiercely. He left it, not wanting to upset her further.
"Is she okay?" the Dissolver asked, running to her side.
Gareth took the plants in his hand and began to prepare them. "She will be," he said, reassuringly.
"What's wrong with her?" the boy asked, worry obvious in his voice.
Gareth shrugged. "Well, is she always like this?" he asked.
The boy furrowed his brow and shook his head.
"Then it's just the fever," Gareth said. "She just needs this medicine."
He ground down the leaves until they became a viscous brown goo, then applied the ointment to her wounds. Separately, he added two more leaves to a pot of water and boiled them into tea.
Gareth stayed in the shelter through the night, tending to Rowena with unwavering care. He kept the rag cool on her forehead and coaxed her to drink the bitter tea.
He knew her survival depended on making it through the night.
Long after midnight, he watched over her until exhaustion claimed him. He drifted to sleep in the chair by her bedside.