The Palace of Lost Memories

Chapter 2

All the men spun to look, but only Max swayed and fell to one knee. He swore then sighed and sat.

Quentin snickered. "I like her."

Max glared at him, but even I could see there was no animosity in it. He tried to remove his doublet but Quentin had to help him. By the time he'd removed his shirt, Max was sweating and breathing heavily. Quentin and I both helped while the captain kept watch on the surrounding forest. He seemed oblivious to his sergeant's pain.

I tied Max's shirt around his upper arm to stem the blood flow. His veins soon bulged nicely.

"His fingers are going purple," Quentin said. "Is that good?"

"For now." I rummaged through my bag, tossing aside forceps, vials and a suction pump until I found the bottle of Mother's Milk. "Swallow a mouthful of this," I said to Max.

"You trying to get him drunk?" Quentin asked.

"It's a soothing medicine. It numbs pain and will keep him calm while I stitch him up."

"Just like ale, eh?"

"Better than ale. He won't need as much to feel the effects, although too much has the same symptoms felt the morning after a night spent drinking."

Max shook his head. "I don't need it."

"It'll hurt," I warned.

"I can cope with a little pain."

"I'll leave the bottle here. Grab it if you change your mind." I set the bottle down beside him and pushed aside the equipment in my bag again until I found the jar. It would be wonderful to move all of my things into the new bag the leather seller's wife had given me as payment after the safe delivery of her baby. It had internal compartments, pockets and straps to organize all my tools and medicines.

I removed the lid on the small jar and extracted the needle and thread stored within. "Ready?" I asked, threading the needle.

"Ready," Quentin said, crouching beside me, watching closely.

"Get on with it," Max snapped.

I stuck the needle into his flesh.

"Fuck!" he blurted out.

"Mind your tongue in front of Miss Cully," the captain said without turning around. He stood rigid, his shoulders tense.

"Doctor, not Mistress," Quentin told him. "Doctor Cully. How deep does the needle have to go in?"

Max paled. "Quentin!" he gasped. "Bring that ugly face of yours closer."

Quentin leaned in. "Why?"

"So I can shut your mouth for you."

The captain whipped around and intercepted Max's fist before it made contact with Quentin's face. "Maybe you should take the Mother's Milk," he said.

"You going soft, Hammer?" One side of Max's mouth hooked into a wry smile.

I pushed the needle in again. Max grunted and squeezed his eyes shut.

The captain snatched up the bottle of Mother's Milk. "Drink!"

Max accepted the bottle.

"Two mouthfuls," I reminded him. "You're a solid man but three will have you throwing it up."

I waited for the medicine to take effect before continuing with the suturing. The captain returned to watching the forest, his arms crossed over his chest, but his stance was a little more relaxed. I'd thought he was tense from alertness, but now I suspected it was partly due to concern for his sergeant.