Lara took another swig of wine andgave him one.Then she poured some wine over the open wound,flinching along with Talon as she did so.
“I am sorry for this,” shesaid as she pulled the blade from the fire.Swiping the sweat fromher brow, she pressed the glowing red tip to the hole in histhigh.
“Bloody hell.”His entirebody went rigid, then limp.
He’d passed out again, which was justas well as Lara had to repeat the process several times until theblood only seeped from the charred hole.Her eyes stung from thesmoke, and she choked on the stench of burning flesh as she placedseveral squares of linen over the wound and wrapped two stripstight around his thigh, pulled the blanket up over his legs, thensat back and gathered her courage for what she had to donext.
She propped the saddle up against hisshoulders, called Wolf over, and had him lie down over Talon’slegs.
“Stay.”
Wolf laid his head on his front paws,watching intently as Lara poured wine over the wound in Talon’sside, then grabbed the shaft of the arrow and heaved.His bodystiffened and jerked as she pulled the arrow out, but he neverregained consciousness.Lara checked the shaft and arrowhead forany missing pieces and, not finding any, drank another swallow ofwine and poured more over the hole in his side.She cauterized thewound with the blue-hot knife blade, his twitches and moans ascomforting and concerning as the dark blood still seeping from thewound.
Rolling him back and forth, shemanaged to wrap strips of linen around his waist to keep the padsof linen she’d pressed to his wound in place and maintain pressure,breaking into a sweat with the effort.Both wounds were on hisright side, so she kept him lying on his left.He’d bled too hardfor too long: he couldn’t afford to lose much more.
His skin was cold and clammy as Laralaid the horse blanket over him.She propped the Black’s saddle upagainst his back and had Wolf lie next to his chest and belly, thenshe banked the fire and approached the horses.Fulrad’s baywouldn’t let her near him, but the other three let her strip themof their gear, leaving their bridles and reins on them.She laidtheir saddle blankets over Talon and took stock, talking to thehorses and Wolf and Talon.She’d known too many people returnedfrom the hinterlands of death who’d spoken of hearing their lovedones’ voices through the veil of consciousness.Voices they’dfought to stay connected with.
“We have a rope, a pair ofleather gloves, three flints, another full skin of wine, five shortswords, two longswords, and a bow and almost full quiver of arrows,along with three more saddles.”She looked up the mountain’s side.“We’re halfway between Oloron and the Hollow, but if Lothair lives,he’s between us and Oloron, and we can’t chance running into him,even with you to fight him off, Wolf.”She took a swig of wine fromthe half-empty skin.“We’ll go to the Hollow.Hole up there, whereI can tend to Talon in safety and peace.”She sized up Talon, whoweighed twice what she did and was in no condition to ride.TheBlack lowered his head to sniff and blow in Talon’s hair, his reinsdangling.Lara sat up straight.“If I could find two poles long andsturdy enough, I could use the rope and reins and make a litter topull him up the mountain.”She grinned at the horses.“Sound like aplan to you?”
The yips and snarls of wild animalsfrom the woods told Lara the men’s bodies had been found.It wouldbe chancing attack by a predator if she went into the woods now.She’d wait until daylight to search for poles.In the meantime, sheremoved the reins from the Black and the other three horses, packedher meager supplies into the Black’s saddlebags, and set thesaddles several feet from Talon’s back as a wind break.
She took a good draught of wine anddribbled a little onto Talon’s lips, breathing a sigh of relief ashe swallowed.
“Lie down, Wolf,” shesaid, patting the ground in front of Talon, who instinctivelysought the dog’s heat.
Then she climbed under the blanketsand curled herself around Talon’s back, her nose burrowed into thenape of his neck.
She woke to a sky as gray as Talon’seyes staring listlessly into nothing, and she quickly laid herfingers on his neck, her heart stopping until she felt his pulsebeneath her fingers, thin and weak, but there.She placed a hand onhis brow and swore.“Damn you, Lothair.”A fever had taken hold ofTalon during the night, and she had nothing to treat it with here.She had to get him to the Hollow.
She used the dead man’s longsword tocut her poles, and had the leather strips lashed between them byearly morn.Then she saddled the Black and hid the other saddles inthe woods.She took a drink of wine, its warmth spreading throughher limbs, and dosed Talon with as much, or as little, as he wouldswallow.Then she pulled him by one blanket onto the litter,covered him with the other, tied him down with what was left of thereins, and rigged the litter to the Black’s saddle with therope.
“Well then,” she said tothe horses jostling for position in their new herd.“We’ve got thebetter part of four leagues to go.”She gazed down at Talon, Hisface was ashen but for his fever-flushed cheeks.“And the sooner weget there, the better.”She gave the meadow one last look, makingsure there was nothing left to tell of their presence.
“Let’s hope if Wolf didn’tkill Lothair outright, he at least bloodied him something fierce,causing him to run home to lick his wounds.And that his snake of amaster will sit and wait to see what’s become of us rather thancome looking.”
CHAPTER 18
TheHollow
Talon
The girl stood in theriver.A young girl with side braids who smiled at Talon, warminghim from the inside out.He tried to go to her, but a gripping painin his side stopped him.His side and his leg were on fire, hishead pounded, and his mouth tasted of dirt.
“Water.”
Something cool and wettouched his mouth.He gaped like a baby bird, and a slaking easeslid down his throat as he swallowed.
“Sleep,” a voicesaid.
A woman’s amorphous facecrowned with auburn curls floated above him.Eyes of green and goldpeered down at him from where her long, willowy body sprawled outalong the branch of an ancient oak.She stood, her naked bodyglistening wet, and gazed at him with a longing that made his gutgrip and his manhood throb.He reached out for her, but she wasgone, her voice of smoked honey laughing up at him from the riverbelow as she was swept away.He dove into the freezing river andswam after her, stroking and kicking with all his might, strugglingagainst the swirling water until his arms burned and his legs wereas heavy as soggy logs.Still, he fought on.He had to get to her.To hold her safe in his arms.To tell her… something.
He gave one last heavingsurge forward, and pain ripped through him.He criedout.
“Shush, love.It’s allright.I’ve got you.”
He was treading water infront of the oak, its gnarled roots holding her pale, listlessbody.Her waist-length hair swirled around her like dancing flames,then blanched to white, and her skin aged from smooth and fair towrinkled and wizened.He reached out to touch her cheek, and hereyes flew open.Changeling eyes that seared his verysoul.
“Lara?”
