“Good. It is that time of the year, Sigimor. I doubt it is anything truly bad.”
“I ken it. Annoys me as I didnae ken I was worried so about such things until I had my bairns and a wife. Now, we can talk more plainly about this trouble the lass has. I am saddened by her parents’ death as her mother was a great help, yet wise enough to wait until asked and nay pushing herself into the family. And now I am here to talk of these murderous cousins and sort them out. ’Tis the least I can do for how she helped me and mine.”
Gybbon grinned, helped himself to some more cider, and proceeded to tell Sigimor everything he knew. He also told him all he and Mora had guessed at from overhearing the cousins’ conversations. The questions Sigimor asked and some of the ideas he threw out told Gybbon that Mora’s parents had chosen well when considering their daughter’s safety.
Chapter Six
“Oh, my dear,” said Jolene when Mora disrobed enough to show her the wound. “You are very close to being badly infected by this wound. Lie down. I fear the first thing I must do is close it.”
“I ken it.” Mora lay down on the bed and winced as she looked at the wound; it looked redder than it had, was still open, and there was a little swelling around it. “I thought that it might need a stitch or two, but I just couldnae sew my own skin shut.”
“No, I can fully understand that. This will all hurt,” Jolene said as she began to gather the things she needed to work.
“Ye dinnae have any soothing words?”
“No, and if I tried them on any of these mad Camerons, I would be laughed at or seriously lectured about lying. I do have to cleanse this as much as I can and that will hurt. Mayhap that will make the rest seem less unpleasant. Myself? I will cry like a tiny bairn if I am even told a wound on me needs stitching.”
“I have ne’er been stitched up but all my brothers have been, and they tried to make me believe it was naught, just a wee pinch.”
Setting down a bowl of hot, soapy water, Jolene wet the clean rag she had and then placed a cloth beneath Mora in the area of the wound. She then grabbed a couple of long strips of cloth to tie around Mora’s wrists, tying the other ends to the small posts that were at the head of the bed. She met Mora’s very wide eyes and suddenly laughed.
“I should have warned you. I do that so I do not get punched in the face when something I do hurts the one I am working on.”
“People have punched you?” Mora worried about what she was about to suffer.
“Oh my, yes, and when you get punched by a Cameron, it really hurts, and then I must act as if it doesnae hurt much to keep Sigimor from hurting them for hurting me.” She wet the cloth, wrung it out, and without another word, she started to wash Mora’s wound. “Try not to scream or curse or I will have the men in here and I think you would like to avoid that.”
Her teeth clamped tightly together against the urge to do just that, Mora nodded. She would laugh later over her thought that she could have done this herself. No one could inflict such pain on themselves. By the time Jolene was done cleaning the wound and had begun to thread a needle, Mora was panting and could feel the sweat dripping down her face. After the pain of having her wound cleaned, however, the pinch of the needle was nothing. When Jolene finished, spread some surprisingly nice-smelling cream on her, and began to bind her wound, Mora could feel that her face was still wet with sweat and she was panting.
After untying her hands, Jolene held Mora steady as she slowly sat up enough to drink some cool cider. “I truly hate the pain caused by so much of healing work. Telling myself I have helped does not always work to rid me of that.”
“Ye helped,” Mora said in a soft, hoarse voice. “I ken it will feel better once the pain of tending it eases away.”
Getting the cloth wet with cool water, Jolene wiped off Mora’s face. “It was bad. Mora. Ye were very close to it spreading the poison all through you. I will warn you, you may fall under a bit of a fever for a few days. Hope it is not too bad.”
“I dinnae have a few days.”
“What do you mean?”
“My cousins are going hunting for my youngest brother. He is just seven. We heard how Robert plans to get his hands on poor Andrew. He plans to get himself named guardian of the boy. I ken he will torment the boy until he can find a way to kill him without anyone kenning he was the one who did it.”
“Sad to say, I know just the sort of men you speak of. It reminds one of when a cat corners a mouse. Poor thing tries to flee, but the cat keeps it cornered and toys with it a while more before killing it. I believe it is one of the reasons some people truly hate cats, that moment of what appears to people to be naught but a deep mean. Your cat is lovely. I want a small one like that. I dinnae suppose she has kittens often.”
Mora almost laughed. “That would mean she would have to go out and find a strange cat, a male cat. Nay. She never goes out unless I can go with her. Or some other person she sees as safe. Doesnae mean she willnae be caught some day.”
“Get some rest. I will fetch you a clean shift and then you can sleep. I have a potion to help you if you cannot sleep.”
“Nay, I believe I will have little trouble sleeping.”
“I will fetch the shift now.”
The moment Jolene left, Mora had to grip her hands tightly together to keep herself from massaging, or worse, digging at the pain in her side. At the moment, there was little comfort to find in the knowledge that what Jolene had done would help her. She closed her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath as she tried to fight the pain.
When Jolene returned, Mora snapped out of a light doze and knew she had been close to going to sleep. Right next to the woman marched Freya. Her cat showed no hint of unease around the woman, and even though Mora told herself it was foolish to trust in an animal’s opinion, she did.
She sat up with help from Jolene and hissed with the pain of the movement. Once the shift was on though, and she was able to lie back down, she quickly recovered. Freya leapt up on the bed, avoiding her wounded side, and curled up next to her.
“Do you need a box of dirt for her?”
“Oh, aye, if it is nay too much trouble.”
“Well, from all you said, I realized you will not be able to be her guard outside, so it might be best. We had one for Old George when winter came as he loathed the cold, and I quickly got weary of cleaning up messes by the kitchen door. Be right back,” she said even as she hurried out the door.
Soon she had all she needed, Jolene even placing a tankard of cider on the table by the bed. The woman promised to let Gybbon know where Mora was and explain that she would not be coming down the stairs soon. Mora curled her arm around her cat, holding her closer to her uninjured side, and closed her eyes.
*
Gybbon frowned at Jolene when she returned alone. “Where is Mora?”
“She is resting.”
“Was it that wound she tried to tell me was just a scratch?”
Jolene sighed and nodded. “Aye, and she will have to rest for a few days if she wants it to heal.”
“It was no scratch, was it?”
“No. To be fair, it may have looked like one when she first bandaged it, but something made the small cut widen. She thinks it was when Jester tossed her off. I have cleaned it, stitched it, and put a clean bandage on as well as some healing cream. She will be fine soon. We just have to keep a close watch for a fever but e’en that may not be serious.”
“At least she had something to break her fast.”
“A full belly can be very helpful in healing. The cat is with her. I did worry it might hurt her wound in some way, but it carefully avoided it. I had Jeannette bring in a box of dirt for the cat as Mora said the animal does not go out unless she has a guard.”
“Ye wouldnae either if ye had to fret about even what flies in the air seeing ye as a quick meal.”