Fear grabbed at her chest, squeezing tightly. She was no healer. How could she do this?
Elysia went to turn her head and caught Lendra’s eyes. Fear filled them and pleading as well, pleading for Elysia to save Bram.
She felt a strong hand on her shoulder and her husband’s voice whispered in her ear, “You can do this, wife.” She turned her head and saw the confidence in his eyes that she didn’t feel and it gave her strength. With a nod, he left her side.
Elysia whipped off her cloak, dropped it on the bench at the table next to where Bram laid and placed her healing basket on top of the table. Then she started rolling up her sleeves. “I need a clean apron, lots of clean cloths, and buckets of warm water.”
One look at the wound to his chest told her it would have to be stitched if he even had a chance to survive. Elysia didn’t want to think of that and Bliss had warned her that doubt was the healer’s enemy. She pushed all doubt aside and went to work.
She was intently focused on what she needed to do and didn’t see her husband walk off with Chieftain Emory. It wasn’t until hours later, after she had seen to the other men, none of their wounds severe, and had Bram moved to his cottage where Lendra insisted on staying to keep watch over him, that she finally took a breath, praying she had done right by them all.
Lendra stepped out of Bram’s cottage and walked over to Elysia.
She knew what Lendra would ask. It was what most asked when facing uncertainty—reassurance.
“Will he survive?”
Elysia was honest. “I’m not sure yet. So much can happen when you stitch a wound, which was why Bliss tried not to if possible. Unfortunately, it was impossible not to stitch Bram’s wound. Between the stitches, his strength, good care, and strong vigilance, he has a chance, which is better than no chance at all.”
“You did good, Elysia. Bram had confidence you would heal him. He told me you wouldn’t let him die. I believe he is right.”
“We can only hope and pray,” Elysia said and cast a silent prayer to the heavens that it be so. Did Bram mention Tavish? I didn’t see him among the wounded.”
“He remains with the Clan Loudon men who fight. Bram fears there will be more wounded if Lord Fergus doesn’t get the matter in hand. Some pray that his son Odran, a ruthless warrior, returns and brings an end to the unrest.”
Elysia feared that such a brutal warrior would only cause more to die before peace was claimed. “As soon as I find my husband and speak with him, I’ll return to check on Bram. If he wakes while I’m gone, give him the brew I fixed.”
Lendra appeared hesitant to speak.
“What is it, Lendra?” Elysia asked, anxious as to what the woman might say.
Lendra hesitated only a moment longer. “Saber isn’t here. He’s gone. He went to fight.”
Chapter 11
“I knew you’d save me,” Bram said with a wicked smile and a chuckle. “I’m just too appealing to let die.”
Elysia returned the smile and teased, “Don’t make me regret it, and need I remind you that you’ve done well these past three weeks because of Lendra tending you?” Elysia nodded to the woman standing behind him.
Bram turned and winked at Lendra. “She’s an angel and I’m grateful for all she has done for me. But it’s time I let her be and get back to doing my share around here.”
Lendra smiled, a forced smile from what Elysia saw and it didn’t surprise her that Bram took no note of it. He couldn’t see beyond himself.
“You were lucky the wound wasn’t beyond repair. No amount of stitching would have saved you. I would still be careful if I were you. Give it another week before you return to—” She paused abruptly, shaking her head. She didn’t want to think of the battle that still raged between the two warring clans, the battle that took her husband away from her. “You need me no more.”
“A skilled healer is always needed,” Bram said.
His praise was his way of thanking her, but it only irritated her. “Aye, to stitch the foolish men back together who battle senselessly.”
She turned and left before Bram could say more. She stopped when only a short distance from the cottage her stomach churned from her endless worry for her husband. She’d heard nothing from him since he’d left three weeks ago, not one message. The few warriors who returned with wounds that kept them from fighting had no word of Saber to share with her. She feared the worst. She feared he had died and was left to rot somewhere with other fallen warriors or he was wounded and though his voice had healed well, he sometimes still struggled to speak. How then did he communicate with anyone? How then could he be sent home for Elysia to heal him?