Page 6 of The Guardian's Witch

Alex gave her a grateful nod.

“Zhure nas sheer naf durzh.” The ancient healing song filled her head. “Ancient one give him strength to endure.” She submerged the linen strip in the basin of steaming water. “Zhure nas sheem naf sarzh.” She wrung out the cloth. “Ancient one give me knowledge to succeed.” She turned and noted him look at her hands, which were bright red from the scalding water.

He took up the soft soothing sound of her whispered words. “Zhure nas sheer naf durzh,” he said softly.

“Zhure nas sheer naf durzh,” she repeated under her breath.

She placed the compress on the festering wound. He barely stirred. She pressed the cloth lightly into place to draw the infection onto the linen. She removed the cloth when it cooled. The crusted pus loosened and clung to the rag. Over and over, she plunged her hands into the scalding water and wrung out the fresh hot linen. Before long the wound wept profusely. Little by little, it ran clearer, the linen eventually tinged with red. “The blood needs to run rich and red before you’ll be out of danger.”

“You’re doing fine.” His voice was rough with pain.

Startled by his encouragement, she stopped her hand poised to soak the next linen. She felt his eyes on her but resisted meeting his gaze for fear she would give her inner thoughts away. She doused the cloth and wrung out the water. She continued to save his life.

When the wound bled freely, a signal the infection was gone, she stepped back. Tired, relief flooded through her. She noticed his hand lying along his side and watched his fist open. She wiped the sweat from his face. She studied his eyes, pleased to see them clear and bright. Ready to apply the preparation to the wound, she hesitated. Something niggled at her. She learned long ago not to deny the feeling. She placed one more hot linen on the wound.

“Faith,” he swore. “The burning’s from the inside.”

“From the inside?” She removed the linen and carefully searched the wound. He squirmed from her touch. “Patience, I’m almost done.”

He let out a chuckle. “You’ll need to do more than that for me to lose the bet.”

She peered at him. Through all her ministrations he only voiced words of encouragement. As he had pledged, he remained still and did not complain. “You’ve found me out.” She continued her search. “I may have to concede.”

“Of course you will.” He shifted his hip toward her.

He may have moved to ease his pain but it provided her with a better view. Something caught her eye. “There’s something lodged in the wound.” A quick glance confirmed her suspicion. The pale color on his face told her the pain once again gripped him.

He nodded his acknowledgement.

She rummaged through her kit and took out small pinchers. With a gentle touch she parted the swollen flesh. His muscles tensed “It must come out.” She knew the pain grew worse.

He held the bed linen in fisted hands and said nothing. His body glistened with sweat. His chest labored in short shallow breaths. He moved not a muscle.

How he lay there without screaming was a testament to his endurance and control. She probed a bit deeper. Her instrument touched something hard. It was not bone.

He drew in a deep breath.

She took only a brief notice and remained set to her work. Carefully she snagged the smooth corner of the object and began to withdraw a piece of slender steel. The metal slipped from her grip and the fragment slithered back into the wound. Alex stiffened. She froze.

“Go on, don’t stop now,” he said through clenched teeth.

Beads of perspiration danced on her forehead. She hesitated with the pinchers over the wound, ready to proceed. No, she needed the other corner of the metal. She looked at Alex. His gray face told her she must act quickly.

“Go ahead.”

She held his eyes for a moment then continued. She attacked from the other side of the wound. The pincher latched on to an engraved edge. With a steady hand and a tight hold of the steel she plucked out what was left of a blade.

Alex let out a sigh of relief.

She brought the steel to her nose. An acrid smell caught her attention. She dropped the fragment into the basin. Poison. She suspected it was nightshade. No, there was something different about this poison. The preparation she usually administered would not be adequate. She searched through her things until she found the vial she needed. A few drops worked into the preparation would be enough. She applied the poultice with great care and bound up the wound. “You’ve won the wager,” she said while she finished applying the dressing.

“Did you have any doubt? Thank you, Lisbeth. You have my gratitude.” His eyelids slowly slid down and he settled into an exhausted sleep.

She turned to the basin to retrieve the fragment and watched tendrils of blood swirl in graceful patterns. The water clouded while she stared mesmerized at the shapes. When the liquid cleared, she removed the metal, dried and slipped the fragment into her pouch. Relieved, she took a deep breath and emptied the basin. He wouldn’t die. He would live to fight another day, not because of her care but because the vision in the basin told her so.

Chapter Two

The aroma of fresh herbs from Lisbeth’s basket mingled with the rich earthy fragrance of the forest. Nature painted the September woodlands with vivid reds, bright yellows and oranges that created a breathtaking palette. Leaves lay scattered on the forest floor. Some swirled in an errant breeze. They crunched underfoot along the well-worn animal path she followed back to the hunting lodge. The tall arched branches of the ancient maple trees on either side of the trail intertwined high in the canopy and gave the impression of a grand cathedral. The weakened sun’s rays and the crisp air promised cooler weather would soon arrive. She enjoyed this peaceful safe place. She’d been here often with her father, but best not to think about those times.

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