“There are too many wounds,” Berdina said as she wiped the blood off Lord Fergus’s chest.
“Look again,” Elysia advised. “They barely scratch the skin. They will heal.” She raised his one arm gently, the sleeve having been cut away. “The wounds on his arms are the source of most of the blood on his chest. I think he held his arms up to defend against the knife, the reason his chest wounds are mere scratches. There is only one wound that may cause worry.” She pointed to a puncture in his lower, left side. “I don’t know what damage it may have caused inside, but I do know it needs to be stitched closed. Otherwise, he’ll have no chance at all.”
“Have you stitched a wound before this?” Berdina asked.
“She did,” Lendra said proudly. “Lady Elysia saved many men wounded in battle with her skilled stitches.”
Berdina smiled softly. “Then Lord Fergus is in capable hands, for I have never stitched a wound, but I am eager to see it done.”
“Lendra, get everything ready while I go speak with my husband, and pray that Lord Fergus remains in a deep sleep, though I will ask my husband to stay close in case he’s needed to hold his da down.”
Elysia left the two women to their tasks as she walked over to her husband who hurried toward her as she approached.
“Tell me honestly, wife,” Odran ordered firmly, though she’d never been anything but honest with him.
Elysia took no offense to her husband’s demand, his worry ruling his tongue. “While your da has appeared to suffer many life-threatening wounds, many are minor. There is only one that worries me. I will stitch it closed, then it is up to the heavens.”
Hope. His wife gave him hope. Odran placed a gentle hand to the back of his wife’s neck and lowered his head to rest his brow to hers. “I know you will do all you can and that’s all I ask of you. Whatever the heavens decree, so be it.”
She kissed him softly. “Your da is strong. He has a chance to survive and that is what matters. Now I need your help.”
“Anything,” he said, clinging to the hope she offered.
“He may wake while I stitch him and I need you there to hold him down if that should happen. Also, I don’t want him moved far. Can you have a bed brought here, since it is not safe for him to remain on the table once I’m finished?”
“I’ll have a bed brought here as soon as you’re done with my da,” Odran said.
Elysia took his hand. “Good. Now it’s time to help your da heal.”
Chapter 30
“Sleep is good for your da. It allows him to heal,” Elysia said, standing next to her husband as he cast worried eyes on his da.
Tables had been moved away from the hearth and a bed brought to rest near the warmth, a chill having settled in the Great Hall from the strong wind that hammered the stone walls and warned of an approaching storm. Odran had a crew of men along with himself move his da, with great care, off the table to the bed as soon as Elysia had allowed.
“He did well and suffered the pain of my stitches bravely. Now he needs to heal,” Elysia said, hoping to reassure her husband.
Odran slipped his arm around the back of his wife’s waist. “You forget I’ve seen endless men linger and suffer from wounds received in battle. I know the dangers he faces; a fever, the wound turning putrid, or simply a sudden death even with all that has been done for him.”
“A sudden death I can do nothing about, but I can treat a fever and keep watch on his wounds to hopefully keep them from turning putrid, and we can do what Bliss always advised—pray. Now go see your mum, Dorrit says she has woken and senses something is wrong.”
He nodded and pressed his cheek to hers to whisper, “I am grateful for what you have done and continue to do for my da.”
She turned her head brushing her lips over his. “He is family. I will always do what I can for family. Now go. Your mum needs you.”
Odran had much to be grateful for to his wife. She had returned a sense of family to the keep and his clan. The curse might still linger, but now hope had arrived and battled against it. His mum had once battled hard for him and his brother, but her strength and courage waned when she had learned of his brother Tynan’s death—by Odran’s hands.
He rapped softly on the door before entering his mum’s bedchamber and was not able to hide his surprise at seeing his mum fully dressed, her hair braided neatly, and a soft flush coloring her usual pale face. While there remained a frailness to her, there was also a spark of strength there, of her old self, and Odran was relieved to see it.