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John’s eyes fluttered. “I am sorry to be a burden, miss.”
“Do not dare consider yourself a burden,” Helen said in a muted tone. “You are a hero, like the mighty Achilles.”
“Have you heard the tale of Achilles, lad?” the stranger asked.
John replied that he had not.
“Perhaps we can implore the lady to tell you more about him.”
He thinks quickly on his feet.
“Achilles was said to be the greatest hero in all of the ancient world. He was a prince, a warrior, and a demi-god.” Helen moved over to John’s side and continued to cool his body. “Throughout the ten years the Trojan War was fought, there was not a single warrior who could defeat Achilles unless they hit the one part of his body that was vulnerable—his heel.”
“That’s an odd body part to leave unprotected,” John wheezed.
“I fully agree with you, but consider this: When Achilles was but a child, he was dipped upside down by his mother into the Underworld’s River Styx. His parents hoped that it would prevent a prophecy that declared Achilles would die in battle. But little did they know, the one area that was left exposed was the area where his mother had held him.”
“Funny things, prophecies. It was the measures people took to prevent them that often resulted in them coming true.” The stranger’s forehead creased. “I point to the tales of Oedipus and Antigone as proof.”
“I agree with you, sir,” Helen said.
The gentleman knows his Greek myths and legends well.
John’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t understand.”
Helen had momentarily forgotten about her young charge. “Our friend means that it was fate. Humans could not control their destiny, as much as they might have wished.”
The man cleared his throat. His eyes were creased and mouth tight. “Lad, we must have you seen by a physician straightaway. However, I won’t lie. Your arm is in a state and it must be stabilized before we can move you. I will do my best not to jostle the limb any more than necessary.”
John grunted. “Do it.”
“Squeeze this if it hurts.” Helen moved to his side and offered him her hand.
Making eye contact with her, the man said, “I will work as quickly as I dare.” He gazed to John. “Lad, are you ready?”
John blew out a long breath. “Yes, sir.”
True to his word, the man gently lifted him and slipped the knotted cravat around the appendage. Helen chewed her lip. John sucked in air, but kept his cries to himself and squeezed Helen’s hand, hard. It felt as if it were locked in a vice. Perspiration and tears poured down his cheeks.
“It’s done.” The man ran a hand through John’s tussled hair. “Well done, lad. You are braver than Achilles, you are a young Hercules. The Greeks may have appreciated their heroes, but the Romans worshiped them.”
“Thank you,” Helen said, letting out a deep breath. John’s hand still held hers.
The man inclined his head. “I would be remiss in my duties as a gentleman if I didn’t see to those in need.”
“The horse came upon us so quickly. I was unaware of what was happening until John pulled me down.”
“Indeed.” The man frowned. “My horse and I were attempting to catch that spooked, riderless mount when we happened upon you.”
She shivered. The damp from the ground had soaked into her clothing. She pulled the heavy fabric of the jacket in tighter, beginning to feel a dull ache all over her body.
“We must get you two out of the cold.” The gentleman glanced uncertainly in John’s direction.
“Sir, if you would kindly ride to number twelve Curzon Street, you will find the residence of Lord Greenly, where my father and I are guests. They’ll send us help and the carriage.”
“Will you both be all right on your own?”
Helen assured him they would.
