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The ropes that bound me allowed some limited movement, and I rolled closer, tugging at the bonds as never before, until they cut into my flesh. Ihadto help him!
“Where’s your knife?”
Devon gasped, grating his teeth. “Siegfried’s saddle.”
There was no way I could get to Siegfried. The knife might as well have been on the moon. I tugged again desperately at my hands. “This is what you get for tying me up.”
A cough of agony. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“I can’t help you if I can’t use my hands.” I’d never felt so utterly desperate.
“Bite.”
“You think I haven’t tried? What do you think I do when you go away for the night?”
He shook his head. “I bite.”
“What, are your teeth better than everyone else’s as well?”
“Can we not stop to discuss this?” Every word was an effort and I could hear the pain in them.
Stretching to the end of my tether, I managed to get my hands in front of Devon’s mouth.
“There you go, but I’m telling you…”
The ropes came away and Devon spat the stray fibers from his mouth.
“You must have teeth like a beaver,” I said, frowning because I wasn’t sure how it was possible that he’d just cut through my bindings when I couldn’t. And, damn it all, but I’d tried!
He made no answer, the effort of biting through my bonds had already been almost too much for him. Quickly, I untied the rest of the ropes, then knelt to blow on the embers of the fire.
“Yes…” nodded Devon. He knew what had to be done. It wouldn’t be pretty, it wouldn’t be pleasant, but it might save his life.
Battlefield medicine was another thing I’d learned in the mountains and had occasionally had cause to use, because the life that Aunt Leah’s women lived on the outskirts of the law was not a safe one.
Now that I was untied, I was able to get across to where Siegfried was tied up to fetch Devon’s knife. The horse was awake and stirred anxiously from foot to foot, as if he’d picked up on his master’s distress.
Returning to Devon, I placed the knife on the growing fire, which I fed with dry grass to build the flames and heat the blade, first to sterilize it, but a wound like this would also need cauterizing, a process that made me shudder. All the while, I kept asking myself if I should even bother to help him, given how he’d backstabbed Uther and me. Furthermore, if Devon died, my father and I would be free.
But at the thought of Devon dying, I knew I couldn’t just leave him to it. Not when there was a chance I could help him survive. Damn my big heart.
On the far side of the fire, near to where Uther still slept soundly, smiling in his dreamy sleep, were two flasks of fresh water, which I was grateful that Devon had sent me to refill the night before. The stream water was straight from a spring, clean and clear, and I used it to wash my hands and then splashed it on Devon’s side, washing the fresh blood away, revealing where the arrow’s shaft was buried.
“It’s going to have to come out,” I said grimly.
“Yes.”
“If there’s damage on the inside… If it’s hit any of your organs…”
“Yes.”
I didn’t need to finish the sentence. He knew how serious this was. A wound like this could be a death sentence, and all too often was. The best I could do was to remove the arrow, clean and seal the wound and then make him as comfortable as possible. Everything else was down to luck and nature. Internal wounds healed just like external ones, but if he was bleeding on the inside, then there was little I could do about it. Devon was young and strong, that would count in his favor. And, of course, he was very lucky, or so he always claimed.
He could pull through. He had everything on his side. Except for the arrow that was stuck in it.
“Do you still have the bag you took from me when you first captured me? Back in Casper’s Relief.”
“Saddle bag.” His voice was more strained every time he spoke.
