Chapter 8 #5
“No need to worry, my lady,” Ruth said, slowly shaking his head. “The wheels are equipped with a device that prevents the carriage from flipping.”
Realizing that she had appeared ignorant in front of the servants, Maxi blushed and released her grip.
They rode on, tilting precariously in the carriage until they reached the bottom of the hill and turned eastward.
Through the window, naked trees rolled by as they continued along a secluded forest path.
The leafless branches traced ghostly shadows like spiderwebs across the frost-covered ground, and Maxi focused on the patterns as she tried to slow her breathing and calm her pounding heart.
Eventually, the carriage came to a stop.
“We’ve arrived,” Ruth said and jumped out of the carriage.
Maxi climbed out after him and froze at the sight awaiting her. In a wide-open clearing, littered among the tree stumps, the enormous carcasses of black-furred werewolves were stacked in piles.
“So they were werewolves,” Ruth said, examining one of the dead beasts. “That explains why the sentries were caught unaware. I’ll need to devise measures to prevent this from happening again.”
Maxi averted her eyes from the carnage and swallowed against the urge to vomit. She did not want to embarrass herself that way for a second time.
“Mage Ruth!”
A knight strode toward them, leaving the group that was setting up camp by a few dilapidated cottages nestled along the edge of the clearing.
“Sir Ursuline injured his shoulder during the skirmish,” the young knight said. “Could you tend to him?”
“Sir Ursuline was wounded?” Ruth asked, almost sounding like he did not believe the knight.
The young knight sighed. “There was heavy fog, so we didn’t see his distress signal right away. Sir Ursuline had to hold the beasts back on his own for some time before the rest of us arrived.”
“Heavens! Where is he now?”
“This way,” said the knight as he led Ruth away.
Maxi listened silently, then watched as the two men walked away. She found herself at a loss, unsure of what to do. After instructing the servants to unload the provisions, she hurried after Ruth.
Inside the cottage that Ruth and the young knight had entered, Maxi found rows of injured men lain out on the floor. As she scanned the dingy room, looking for Ruth, her eyes settled on the sentry lying closest to her; his injuries were gruesome.
The man’s arm was mangled and twisted at an unnatural angle, and his face was badly burned. He grimaced in pain and his entire body was covered in blood and dirt, emitting a foul smell.
Maxi recoiled from his frightening state and backed away. She had intended to help, but she knew nothing about tending to the wounded. Panicking, she broke into a cold sweat, and stood there uselessly until Ruth called to her.
“My lady! Please tell the servants to start boiling water. We’ll need a lot of it!”
With a clear task to do, Maxi was able pull herself together.
She hurried back to the wagons to pass on Ruth’s instructions to the servants, who hastily lit a fire and collected fresh spring water in a large cauldron.
Meanwhile, Ruth had finished treating Sir Ursuline and came outside in search of Maxi.
“Do you have any experience treating injuries?” he asked her as he retrieved the medicinal herbs from one of the wagons.
Maxi shook her head. This was not the time to worry about appearing incompetent.
Ruth nodded as if he had expected her answer. He produced several small pouches from his provision of medicinal herbs.
“These contain coagulating powder,” he said as he handed the pouches to her.
“It will stop the bleeding. But first, you must carefully cut off any clothing covering the injury and wash the wound with clean water. Then sprinkle this powder onto the wound and compress it with a clean cloth until the bleeding stops.”
“W-Wouldn’t it be f-faster to use magic?”
“I can’t treat all these men alone. I can heal ten of the most critically injured, but the rest will have to be treated without magic.”
“I-I understand,” Maxi said, hiding her apprehension.
There was no time to hesitate, so she took the pouches from Ruth and opened them with trembling hands to check their contents. As she repeated Ruth’s instructions silently to herself, he handed her yet another pouch.
“These dried leaves are detoxicants,” he said. “If you notice anyone with a fever or wounds with purple swelling, have them swallow one of these. If the patient is unconscious, please call me over.”
“I-I…I-I understand.”
“You don’t need to be so nervous, my lady. Many of the servants have experience treating injuries, so they’ll know what to do once they’re given instructions.”
Ruth took the remaining herbs and returned to the cottage, leaving Maxi with the servants. After delivering Ruth’s instructions with some difficulty, she watched as the servants swiftly divided herbs, linens, and bowls among themselves and went inside.
Maxi followed them, though she lingered by the door, still unsure of herself. As the servants got to work cleaning and bandaging wounds with practiced hands, Maxi surveyed the injured men. Some of them were fortunate to have escaped with only minor injuries, but most were in serious condition.
In this cottage alone, Maxi counted seven sentries among the wounded, as well as a dozen civilian men—loggers by their humble garb. Combined with the men in the other cottages, the casualties must have numbered in the forties. The sheer number filled her with dread.
Repressing the urge to flee, she knelt down to the sentry closest to her. The man was barely conscious and looked to be one of the older ones. After hesitating for a breath, Maxi peeled off the blanket covering his body.
The sentry’s right thigh was covered in a thick layer of dark blood, probably torn apart by one of the werewolves lying dead outside.
Fighting another wave of nausea, Maxi used a pair of scissors to cut open his tattered trousers.
When a faint groan escaped his lips, she froze, afraid that she had caused him greater pain.
She quickly withdrew her hands and inhaled a few slow breaths to calm herself. Then she resumed cutting his trousers.
The wound beneath was stomach-churning. Lumps of dark, sticky blood surrounded a gaping wound where his flesh had been shredded and torn. Swallowing against her unsettled insides, Maxi soaked a piece of linen in water and cleaned the area as Ruth had instructed.
Every time the cloth touched his flesh, the sentry writhed in agony, forcing Maxi to work slowly.
When she finally finished, she tossed aside the blood-soaked linen and sprinkled Ruth’s coagulating powder on the man’s wound.
Her hands shook clumsily as she wrapped a strip of cloth around his leg to compress the bleeding.
With stiff shoulders and sweat beading along her spine, Maxi sat back on her heels and anxiously looked over her work.
Is this enough?
It would have to be. There were still so many more to tend to. As she stood up, Maxi comforted herself with the fact that she had followed all of Ruth’s instructions. There was nothing more she could do; the sentry would be all right for now, at least.
With faltering steps, she walked over to the next patient, bracing herself to treat one gruesome injury after another.
One man had a bone sticking out of his arm, while another’s face was covered in blood that seeped from a head injury.
Maxi went to the latter first and gingerly inspected his wound.
Her stomach turned as blood coated her hands, slippery and warm, but she willed herself to endure it. She had come to help.
Once again, she cleaned the wound, sprinkled it with the coagulant, and dressed it.
Though she was more confident this time, she could not steady her shaking hands no matter how hard she tried.
The man’s bleeding stopped and, with a sigh of relief, Maxi turned to see how the other servants were faring.
The sight of everyone using the same method was reassuring, and it inspired her to continue her work, but as she moved on to another patient, a hand grabbed her shoulder.
“It’s best not to touch him, my lady,” Ruth said from behind her. “We need to realign his bones first.”
Maxi turned and was taken aback by how gaunt Ruth looked. His complexion was noticeably paler, perhaps from the strain of healing so many people. With a sigh, Ruth crouched down next to the sentry and gingerly raised the man’s broken arm.
“My lady, would you be so kind as to hold down his shoulder?”
Glancing first at the unconscious man’s face, Maxi nodded and pressed down on his shoulder with both hands.
Once Maxi was restraining the man, Ruth swiftly pulled on his bent arm to realign the broken bones.
The sentry’s eyes flew open, and he thrashed with such force that he almost knocked Maxi over.
“My lady!” Ruth said, gritting his teeth as he struggled against the man’s flailing. “You must hold him down!”
After regaining her balance, Maxi pushed down on the man’s shoulder once more, holding more firmly this time. After the man’s bones were set properly, Ruth placed a hand over the bleeding wound and shrouded it in pale light.
As Maxi watched, she recalled the healing magic the clerics performed on her whenever her father’s wrath had turned violent.
It was cold and bitter, their magic like burning ice against her skin.
But the magic Ruth used now seemed gentle and warm, like spring sunlight.
With an outstretched hand, Maxi touched the healing aura and, just like when she had touched the barren oak tree by the pavilion, an intoxicating warmth seeped into her being.