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He whimpered as if he understood her.
She raised her hand slowly. “I need to touch you to see what is amiss. I will do my best not to hurt you.” She assumed he had presented his injured side to her and began to examine him with the lightest of touches. It was not until she reached his neck that she felt it and he let loose with a slight growl.
“I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt you,” she said softly. It would be difficult with only a fraction of light from the partial moon to see the wound clearly, but she had no choice. He trusted her at the moment, and no one was around to warn her away or worse harm the hound for being too close to her. She would have to do her best with what little light there was and rely on instinct and touch to help him.
She probed the area gently and realized that something had embedded itself in the hound’s neck, a portion of it sticking out, and the skin had healed around it. Whatever it was, it was causing him pain and had to be removed. From what she could see and feel of it, it seemed a shard of sorts perhaps part of an arrowhead or some weapon that had struck him and broken off. With lack of care for the wound, the object had embedded itself in him and was causing him pain.
Tavia was glad she had wisely stuck a knife in her boot, a last-minute thought before leaving her bedchamber. It was one her da advised her to carry, and she rarely did except tonight. Perhaps it was being in a place that was still foreign to her and not fully knowing many people that had her grabbing the weapon. Whatever it had been, she was glad she had it.
“This is going to hurt,” she cautioned, stroking the hound gently.
Again, he whimpered as if he understood.
Her heart went out to him, and she spoke softly to him as she worked to strip away the crust around the shard as gently as she could.
“You are a brave one and so courageous to seek help,” she said, and his whimper continued as she continued to talk. Finally with the crusted scab cleaned away, she gave him a tender pat. “Again, this is going to hurt, and I am sorry for causing you pain.”
She gathered a mound of snow beside her, ripped a strip of cloth off the hem of her garment, and prayed that all would go well.
“All set,” she whispered and laid one hand on his head as her other hand took hold of the edge of the shard protruding from the wound. She hoped it would be quick and was not embedded too deeply in his neck where she would have to dig to get it out. She doubted the hound would tolerate that.
She took a deep breath and gave it a little yank to see if it was going to be difficult to extract. The hound whimpered and she soothed him with encouraging words and hoped one good yank would free it. She was relieved that it did. She immediately worried about excessive bleeding but first she cleaned around the wound with some of the snow, then worried it might bleed too much, she folded the strip of cloth and placed it on the wound, then she ripped another strip from her garment and wrapped it around the hound’s neck, splitting the cloth near the end to tie a knot and keep it in place.
Tavia took a needed deep breath before she cleansed her hands with snow and began to gently stroke the hound’s side, talking soothingly to him once again.
“I will have to keep a watch on you to make sure the wound heals properly and that you rest.”
How she would accomplish that she did not know. Her husband would be sure to object since no doubt the hound was one of his war hounds and he would not want her near the animal. But surely he would not object to her checking on him to make sure he healed, would he?
She devised a plan while continuing to stroke the hound who had dozed off to sleep. She would take him to Harald and tell him what happened and explain that she would check on the hound each day to make sure he was healing well. Surely, her husband would see the wisdom in that.
* * *
Bhric knew little fear. He never took it into battle with him, rage was his companion there. He had no use for fear and yet it struck him now not knowing where his wife was while his most vicious hound was on the loose.
“Maybe she can command Fen as she did Bones,” Sven said.
Bhric turned such a ferocious glare on Sven that he took a hasty step back and hurried to say, “I did not mean it humorously. She commanded Bones easily enough perhaps she can do the same with Fen.”
“He snarls and growls at anyone who goes near him, and you think my wee wife can command him?”
“Not if he lost his soul, and if he did, he needs to be put down,” Sven said.
“I will tear him to pieces if he has hurt Tavia,” Bhric said with a snarl of his own. “We go into the woods.”
Sven stood staring past Bhric and fearing what had turned his friend wide-eyed and speechless, he swerved around, his own shock freezing him.
His wife stood at the edge of the woods her undergarment torn at the hem, blood coating her tunic and some on her hands while Fen walked calmly beside her, a bandage around his furry neck.
Tavia hurried to speak before her husband could issue a command. “He came looking for help. A shard was embedded in his neck, no doubt from a weapon of some kind. His flesh had closed around it leaving him in pain. I removed it, but he will need to rest and heal. I was going to take him to Harald.”
“Step away from him,” Bhric demanded.
Tavia did as he said but the hound followed her, keeping at her side. “Please let me take him to Harald and see that he rests. I helped him. He will not harm me.” She was surprised by her husband’s quick and agreeable response.
“We will follow you,” Bhric said, seeing the hound remained calm beside his wife and wanting to get him in a pen safely away from her and others.
Bhric went to approach his wife and the hound growled, stepping protectively in front of Tavia.
