Chapter 8 #6
Ruth finished examining the sentry’s arm and lowered it back to the man’s side. “Werewolf claws and teeth contain venom, so administer some detoxicant once he wakes. In his case, it’s best if you boil the medicinal herbs we brought and have him drink the concoction.”
Maxi stood up, shaking off the strange sensation left behind by Ruth’s healing magic. “I-I’ll ask the s-servants to boil some i-immediately.”
“Thank you.” Ruth lowered himself onto a straw bed to catch his breath. He looked exhausted.
Maxi knew that healing magic consumed a great deal of energy, so she left him to rest and went to tell the servants to begin boiling the detoxicant herbs.
When she stepped outside to gather firewood for the brazier, she noticed a group of sentries and knights burning werewolf carcasses in the clearing.
It was a horrific sight. The smell of burning flesh and hair invaded Maxi’s nose, and bile rose in her throat at the acrid stench.
Dropping the firewood into the snow, she ran into the woods. Her stomach twisted painfully and she crouched against a tree, heaving up watery bile that splattered onto the roots. Tears stung her eyes, and she belittled her own weakness.
As Maxi gulped in chilled air to calm her nausea, a low voice addressed her from behind.
“You there, are you all right?”
Startled, Maxi turned her head. A young sandy-haired knight stood a few steps away, regarding her with concern. The moment he recognized her, his eyes went wide and he rushed to her side.
“What are you doing here, my lady?”
Embarrassed, Maxi quickly wiped her mouth on her sleeve and stood a little straighter. “I-I was g-gathering firewood…” She left the sentence unfinished, refusing to admit that she had been sick.
“This is no place for you to be, my lady. You should return to the castle. I’ll have someone escort you.” Without waiting for a response, the knight spun around and called for a nearby sentry.
Flustered, Maxi tried to stop him. “Th-That w-w-won’t be n-necessary! You d-d-d—you n-need not mind—”
“How can we not worry when you’re wandering these treacherous woods alone? There’s no need for you to be here.” The young knight turned back to the sentries. “You there! Prepare the carriage. Lady Calypse is returning to the castle.”
Incensed, Maxi strode ahead of the young knight and blocked his path. “As the L-Lady of Anatol,” she said, glaring up at him despite her trembling nerves, “it is my d-d-duty to o-offer assistance to th-those who are injured! I-It is n-n-not your p-p-place to t-tell me t-to leave.”
She had intended to sound dignified, but her voice faltered, and she stumbled over her words more than usual. Her ears burned with an unbearable but familiar shame. Discouraged, she bit her lip and her gaze flicked nervously to look at the ground before her feet.
“Y-You need not m-mind me,” she added, more meekly. “G-Go back t-to what y-you were doing.”
Before the knight could protest, Maxi picked up her dropped firewood and hurried back to the cottages. Heart racing, she tossed some of the wood into the dying fire and nervously eyed the door, worried the knight would come after her. He must think her an arrogant, stuttering fool.
Eventually, she decided it did not matter what he thought. The knights already despised her, so it would make little difference if their dislike worsened. With slumped shoulders, she placed the remaining firewood next to the brazier before approaching Ruth.
“A-Are you f-feeling better, Ruth?”
He looked up from treating a logger’s broken ankle and sighed. “I’ve nearly exhausted my magic. I won’t be able to use it for at least half a day after this. I’ve tended to those in critical condition, but the rest will have to be treated without magic for now.”
“Sh-Should we call f-for a healer f-from the village?”
“There is only one healer in Anatol who is capable enough, but it wouldn’t be right to ask him to leave his own patients to help us. We can send our injured to him instead.”
Ruth stood up and stroked his chin, trying to determine who among the remaining wounded could travel safely. “The healer can’t take all of these men, so we’ll send those poisoned by werewolf venom and treat the rest ourselves.”
Maxi swallowed hard. “W-What can I d-do?”
“Compress swollen wounds with warm cloths, splinter broken bones, and stitch open wounds.”
“S-Stitch…?” Maxi became lightheaded with the thought.
“Don’t worry.” Ruth sighed. “I will do the sewing. Your ladyship need only assist.”
“A-All right.”
“But first, we must send those with high fevers to the healer.”
With those words, Ruth strode out of the cottage. After taking a moment to settle her nerves, Maxi followed him.
—
Fifteen fever-stricken men were identified and carried to the wagons for the journey to the village healer. Those who had been treated by Ruth were given porridge and detoxicants, and once they recovered their strength, they set about repairing the drafty cottages.
There were eight cottages, usually used by the loggers, and four of them had damaged walls.
With a cold snap expected after sunset, the injured men would freeze if the walls were left unrepaired.
As Ruth gave her new instructions, Maxi struggled to hear him over the clamorous noise of men sawing timber and hammering at walls.
“Soak a clean cloth in strong liquor and dab it onto the wounds. This reduces the chance of infection, though how it works is a bit of a mystery.”
“I-Is it b-because of something in the l-liquor?”
“It’s possible. Liquor never goes bad,” Ruth said as he threaded a needle. “It is a method used by the healers in the south. According to them, a wound must be kept clean, and bleeding should be avoided at all costs. A patient’s body shouldn’t be allowed to become too cold or too hot.”
Ruth turned his attention to an injured man with a painful-looking gash across his back and continued to talk as he worked.
“I admit that I thought this southern method was gibberish at first, but it has proven more effective than dog urine and leeches, or simply cauterizing the wound. It’s still inferior to magic but is incredibly useful in situations like this. ”
As Ruth began to stitch the open wound closed, Maxi flinched as if it were pricking her own flesh.
“Making a knot after each stitch makes it easier to remove the thread once the wound has healed,” Ruth explained. “Would you like to give it a try?”
Maxi shook her head vigorously. She did not want to be seen as weak, but she did not have the stomach to pierce another’s skin with a needle and sew him together like cloth.
“It’s no different than sewing leather shoes.” Ruth made another stitch.
The sentry whimpered, but the sound was muffled in his bed of straw. Paying him no mind, Ruth continued stitching the wound. Whenever blood oozed from the gash, Maxi used a liquor-soaked cloth to wipe it clean, and she used heated scissors to snip the thread after each knot Ruth made.
“The final step is to apply a salve and dress the wound. This helps it heal faster.”
Ruth finished the last stitch and trimmed the thread. As he applied a generous smear of sticky salve over the wound, the sentry howled in pain.
“M-Mage Ruth,” he cried. “Can’t you just heal it with magic? Whatever that is, it burns!”
“I’ve exhausted my magic, I’m afraid.”
The sentry groaned in response.
“Bear it for just a while longer. I’m almost done,” Ruth said as he tightly wrapped the wound in cloth. When he finished, he poured a portion of the salve into a small vial and gave it to the sentry. “Apply this salve and redress the wound every two days. It should be healed in ten days’ time.”
Maxi packed up the tools and followed Ruth to the next patient.
While he stitched wounds closed, Maxi gave the injured men sips of detoxicant, cut up strips of cloth, and soaked Ruth’s needle and thread in strong liquor.
Though it was her first time performing such tasks, Ruth’s calm direction helped her remain collected.
When he realigned broken bones, Maxi tied the splint; when she saw an ankle swelled like a pig’s bladder, she compressed it with a warm cloth.
By the time the last of the patients was treated, night had fallen. Bone-tired, Maxi sank to her knees and warmed her chilled hands by the brazier.
Wearied by the prospect of spending the night in this bleak place, Maxi wondered if she would be able to return to the castle that night or if she would need to wait until morning. She was still absorbed in thought when a wooden bowl of steaming soup was thrust in front of her.
“Please have some, my lady.”
Startled, Maxi looked up. It was the young knight who had tried to send her back to the castle earlier.
“It’s rabbit stew,” he said and nudged the bowl toward her again. “It doesn’t compare to what they cook up in the castle, but it’s edible.”
Maxi reluctantly accepted the bowl, feeling awkward in front of the knight. But she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and was famished, so she eagerly brought a spoonful of the warm stew to her mouth.
“Th-Thank you.”
“My pleasure. And about earlier…”
Maxi froze, dreading his next words. But to her surprise, he bowed his head shamefully.
“I beg your forgiveness, my lady,” the young knight said. “It was not my place to say such things.”
Maxi stared at him, her spoon still in her mouth. She had not expected him to apologize.
“I-It’s all right,” she said, quickly putting down her bowl. “I sh-shouldn’t have b-been so short-tempered. I-I apologize.”
“No, my lady. It was I who offended you. There’s no need for you to apologize.”
“Th-Thank you…” Blushing, Maxi relaxed.
The knight appeared hesitant, unsure of what to say next, and they remained locked in an uncomfortable silence until Ruth returned.
He raised an eyebrow at the knight. “Is something wrong, Sir Elliot?”
“No, I was…apologizing to her ladyship for offending her.”