Warwolfe (de Wolfe Pack Book 0)(73)

But with Ghislaine, the situation was much different. She brought forth emotion from him that he never knew he had, a depth of pity that he didn’t know he was capable of, but he was afraid to show any of it, afraid it might look like weakness. Still, seeing her so ill made him sick to his stomach and he felt foolish for it, wrestling with this sense of compassion he was unused to.

She made him feel.

“The abbey is still there,” he murmured. “Quiet, now. Let the apothecary look at your wound. He will know what to do.”

Ghislaine simply nodded, her eyes never leaving his. There was that faith again, reflected in her gaze, faith he’d seen before and faith that made him feel stronger than anything he’d ever known. He continued to hold her attention as, down below, the apothecary took a sharp knife and cut away her trousers to inspect the wound better. Aramis and Téo hung over the man’s shoulder to see the wound for themselves.

“You will not leave me here?” Ghislaine asked, her voice hoarse and weak.

Gaetan continued to stroke her forehead as he gazed down at her. “I will not leave you here. You are part of us, Mousie. I would not leave you behind, not ever. Put your mind at rest.”

Ghislaine sighed, relieved by his words. She clutched his hand tightly as if afraid to let him go. She was just starting to doze off again when the old man touched the arrow entry wound and she nearly came off the bed, shrieking in pain. Even de Moray and de Reyne rushed forward to keep her still because she was kicking so, throwing a knee right into Aramis’ chest as he stood over her. The man grunted as the wind was knocked from him. Now, everyone was rushing to still her as the old man peered more closely at the wound.

“Keep her leg still,” he commanded quietly. “She is raging with fever and the leg is full of poison. Who cleaned the wound after she was injured?”

Gaetan looked at him. “I did,” he said without hesitation. “It was doused repeatedly in wine before we stitched it.”

“Did you remove any debris?”

Aramis answered before Gaetan could; he was very worried for the lady. “It was a dirty wound,” he said. “We took out what we could find but there is always a chance that more was pushed deep that we could not get to.”

The old man bent over the leg, inspecting the wound very closely as Ghislaine was all but pinned to the bed by the knights. When the old man touched the cat gut stitches that Gaetan himself had put into Ghislaine’s leg, pus began to seep out from between the strands.

The knights all saw it and it was something no one had wanted to see. Pus meant poison, and poison would kill. The leg itself was swollen, the area around the stitches red and angry. The old man pushed again on the wound and more pus came forth.

Now, everyone was looking at the apothecary, waiting for a brilliant answer on how to cure the woman, but the apothecary remained silent as he continued to inspect. He had de Reyne help him bend the knee up so he could get a look at the exit wound, which didn’t have the pus or swelling that the entry wound on the top of the thigh did. De Reyne lowered the leg down as the old man stood up.

“There is poison in the wound, of that there is no doubt,” he said, “but the wound on the back of the leg is clean. That tells me that the poison has not spread.”

It was good news as far as news of the wound went, but she was still in grave danger. He moved away from the bed as the knights watched him with a mixture of curiosity and impatience. He just seemed to be puttering around at that point. Even Wellesbourne, who hadn’t shown much interest towards Ghislaine one way or the other, was unnerved by it.

“Well?” he finally demanded. “What do you intend to do?”

The old man went to one of the long dilapidated tables in his hut and began knocking things around, evidently looking for something. Mice scuttled off of the table as he banged about.

“I intend to cut the leg open and clean out the poison,” he said. “If I do not, she will die.”

It was a simple statement, to the point, but it was something no one wanted to hear even if they already knew that fact. The mood of the room had gone from one of great concern to one of sadness now as they realized their guide, the woman who had become part of them in spite of their rocky relationship with her, was seriously ill.

As it often was with wounds, if the initial injury didn’t kill then the chance of poison after the fact often did. Now, they were facing that very situation and there wasn’t one man who wasn’t feeling pity for Ghislaine.

Their little warrior was facing her most difficult challenge yet.

“How will you clean out the poison?” Gaetan wanted to know, although he already suspected the answer. He simply wanted to hear the old man’s process. “What medicaments will you use?”

The apothecary didn’t answer right away; he was pulling the items he needed off of his table. In fact, he had a handful of what looked like strips or straps, and when he rounded the table on his way to a second table over near the door, he held out the straps to de Winter, who was the closest to him.

“Tie her down,” he instructed. “She cannot move while I am cutting her wound open.”

Denis looked at the straps in his hand with a good deal of apprehension before looking to Gaetan for instructions. Would they tie her down? Or would they do as they were doing now, which was holding her down themselves. Gaetan saw Denis’ expression and he shook his head, faintly.