The Dare

Chapter 7

As the sun was rising, Elred poked me. “Wake up, slug! We are moving out soon.”

“I’m awake!” I snapped back as I sat up. I tried to loosen my stiff limbs with a stretch but they were having none of it. The ride was going to be hard. As my vision cleared, I noticed Dior was sitting up. His head was bowed. He looked up with a weak smile when I groaned.

“Good morning, my lady. Would you care for some tea?”

“Good morning, my lord. I would love some tea,” I replied trying to mimic his courtly manner.

“Well you’ll have to make do with water and bread,” Elred said testily. Dior looked at me and shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “No sense of humor.” Elred handed me a bit of bread and a water skin. He handed Dior some bread also.

I took a long drink from the skin Elred gave me. Then I passed the skin to Dior and he drank as I gathered my supplies to check on the other wounded. There were dark smudges under his eyes and his hand trembled as he took the skin from me. “I’m going to check on the others and then you.” He nodded.

I redressed a few wounds and adjusted a sling. Thankfully, none of them showed signs of festering so far. Dior was finished with his food when I returned. I checked his bandage. It was dry but the area around was beginning to redden. I placed more lavender on it and redressed it also. Elred brought up Beleg and Halan. I put out my hand to help Dior stand up. “I can stand by myself,” he said as he pushed my hand away. He rose up unsteadily. Sweat beaded on his brow. Elred looked concerned. He made it to his feet, breathing heavily. I mounted Beleg and reached for Dior.

Elred gave him a leg up and Dior settled himself in front of me. “I had no idea I was so weak.”

“You’ve lost blood that is what is making you weak.”

“You should be sitting in front of me,” He quipped. For some reason the thought of Dior’s arms around me sent a shiver down my back. “I could be. But for now, you are in front,” I replied steadily. He made no more comments and rode in silence for the remainder of the morning.

Faramir halted the company briefly for food and water. I used a tree stump to dismount, and stood by as Dior was getting off Beleg. He took both horses to get water. A pained expression came over Dior’s face and he doubled over. “Eolindë,” he said as he reached for me. I helped him lay down. “I felt something give in my side.” He spoke between heavy breaths. I worked off his jerkin and shirt. I swore softly at the spreading stain. “What’s wrong?” he whispered. “Your wound keeps splitting open and bleeding,” I replied as I took out the last clean strip of bandage I had. “Can you do anything to stop it?” he asked.

“It probably will need to be sewn closed. I don’t have the materials to do it and it is risky doing it out here in the wilderness. I’ve tried to wrap it tightly but when you move the area, it opens up. You need to take more care,” I said as I rewrapped the strips of cloth around his midsection.

He grimaced as I pulled the strips tightly and tied the ends together. The call to ride sounded and Elred brought the horses back. I pulled out my flask and gave Dior a sip. He coughed and gasped. “What is this stuff?”

“We call it monscinan. Your people call it silith.”

His eyes widened. “I’ve heard of silith. They say a grown man can die if he drinks too much of it.”

“They can. We use it medicinally. It takes the edge off of pain. But we also get quite drunk on it too,” I said with a smile.

Elred brought the horses back. I mounted Beleg and Dior let Elred assist him up.

As Beleg started to trot, Dior twisted his head around and said, “Someday, I will go to Rohan and see how this silith is made.”

“I would be happy to introduce you to my Uncle Léod. He makes the finest silith in the Southfold,” I replied. The rest of the afternoon passed with little conversation. Cair Andros came into view at twilight.

The Anduin glittered in the fading sun. The garrison at Cair Andros welcomed us. My presence startled the soldiers but nothing was said in my hearing. I made my customary rounds and reported to the healer stationed with the garrison, Alcarin. We knew each other from the Houses. His eyebrows rose when he saw me but he treated me with the courtesy of a fellow healer.

The day’s ride had taken a toll on Dior. His face had taken on the unnatural flush of fever. I checked the wound. It was red but I saw no evidence of putrefaction. But the fever concerned me. My supplies were almost spent, so I consulted with Alcarin.

After I had told him Dior’s situation, he volunteered to take a look himself and brought his supplies.

“Dior, this is Alcarin. He is a healer from the Houses. Your wound may be getting worse. I have asked him to take a look,” I said steadily. He nodded. Alcarin checked Dior over and then motioned to me as he stepped away.

“I believe, Mistress Eolindë, that the wound is probably infected on the inside. It sometimes happens with wounds of this type. We should try to wash it out. I have some woundwort powder that, made into a poultice, might staunch the infection until you get to Minas Tirith,” he said, his eyes full of concern. I sighed.

“That was my fear. It looks so small on the surface but it must have gone deeper than I thought.” He busied himself with preparing the poultice as I explained to Dior what we had to do. I gave him a sip of monscinan from the almost empty flask. He coughed and nodded that he was ready.

I proceeded to wash out the wound with some wine Alcarin had given me. Dior blanched and grimaced but held still. I then rinsed it with water that had been boiled. Alcarin packed the wound with his poultice and then we bound it up tightly. I gave Dior some tea with feverfew and daisy to ease the fever and clean his blood.

As Alcarin and I cleaned up, he spoke, “I had seen you in the Houses. I had heard you were a good healer. Now I know that you are not only fair in face, but good in your work.” His voice was full of respect and his eyes looked at me with admiration. I blushed at his words. “My dear sir, you flatter me too much. I have been on the trail for several days. I doubt I look fair at this moment.”

“Fair is in the eye of the beholder. Many a man has fallen for a fair face and been rewarded with an ornament that fades with time. You are no ornament. A man should be proud to call you wife.”

I became flustered and sputtered out, “I must see to my horse.”

Hastily I retreated as I heard Alcarin chuckle