A Willing Heart

Thirteen

Hold her still!  I need to get the herb into the wound or it will fester more than it already has.  There, be still little bird, and let Inge do what she needs to fix you.   You are lucky to have arrived when you did.  No one should be out there in this storm.

What are you putting in her wound?  

Asëa Aranion.  It’s the only thing I can think of to heal the bite quickly and stop the infection from spreading.  I’ll need to bathe her with some cool water to lower the fever.  

Kingsfoil?  

Yes.  Some call it athelas.  Now please, both of you leave me alone with her.  You can leave your clothes by the fire to dry, and there’s enough food for you both in the pot.  You might as well be comfortable for this storm is not about to pass quickly.  

Will you call me when she awakes?

She won’t wake for awhile.  The sleeping draught I gave her took care of that.  But there’s something else that no draught or poultice can help.  And only she can heal herself of it.

What is it?

Silence.

What is it, woman?  Tell me.

She’s given up. 

~~~

But Inge was wrong.  

I could not give up now.  Not now, when I knew that Bernd, good-natured fun-loving Bernd, was about to die because of me.  And Jürgen, too - when all the old man wanted to do was save me from the likes of Lialam.  

I did not know what was going to happen next, but what I did know was that I was not the type of woman to simply let go when things seemed hopeless.  Not now.

Not when I’d just held my mother for the last time, held her till she took her last breath and buried her on a hill just south of where I was lying now.  Not after I fought for my life in that cave, clung to the rock face to make my way back to safety.  

And definitely now now - not when every time I opened my eyes I saw Thorin by the side of my bed, sometimes asleep and sometimes holding me down when Inge cleaned the wound on my leg, scraping it clean and applying her healing herbs, boiled almost to a paste.  When I cried from the intensity of the pain that burned through my leg, fearing that Inge would cut it off for that’s what my nightmares told me would happen, Thorin held me close.  I inhaled the smell of him and felt the security of his arms.   It lulled me back to a sleep that soon, even my nightmares could not break through.  

But what nightmares couldn’t breach, the crack of lightning and the roar of thunder did.  I opened my eyes with a start, and looked around, my eyes slowly getting used to the darkness punctuated only by the light of a single candle on the table next to the bed.  For a moment I panicked, wondering if Thorin had left me and I tried to sit up, but sank back down when pain shot through my leg, catching me by surprise.  I had disturbed the wrappings when they caught on part of the scab that had formed over it.

Next to me, slung over a chair, was Thorin’s coat.   I heaved a sigh of relief as I reached out to touch the pelt that graced its collar.  It was soft and thick, the pelt tickling my fingers.

Outside I coud hear the rain coming down hard upon the roof, thunder rumbling through the skies.  The sound of music wafted from the main room and I strained to listen.  Someone was plucking on a harp, the tune of a familiar song filling the air.  It was a sad song.  It spoke a place now gone.