Page 51 of The Knucker King

Avice slipped her fingers through Trewoofe’s and gave him a squeeze. He gripped back, his claws dimpling the back of her hand.

“This is going to hurt,” she warned. “The fact that you drank up your willow bark back at the hill will help. Can you try to keep as still as possible for me?”

“I will not just try. I will,” Trewoofe promised.

Avice released him, before turning her attention to his torso. She folded back the blood smeared cloak to reveal the silver-stained bandages. She tutted at the sight. There was so much blood. It was truly Nature’s Blessing that he was still conscious, let alone that he could walk and talk. Peeling back the linens, she exposed the weeping wounds to Ashling’s light.

“I will need you lower,” Avice said to the Wisp, pointing to Trewoofe’s torso.

Ashling gave an affirmative chirp and moved closer to where she needed to work. She began by gently cleaning his wounds again. She tossed the bloodied bandages aside and picked up her needle and thread.

Her gaze flicked up to Trewoofe’s face. “Ready?”

“Ready,” he replied.

Avice pricked his skin with the needle, on the edge of one of his largest wounds. His muscles twitched, and he gave a light whimper, but otherwise kept perfectly still. She pushed it the rest of the way through, dragging the thread behind, until the knot at the end caught against the skin. Squeezing the edges of the wound together, she pushed the needle through the opposite side and looped the thread, pulling tight so that the two edges of the skin met together.

“That is one,” Avice noted, pausing to study how he coped with the sensation. His eyes met her face and then darted to his mangled torso. “Many, many more to go.”

Her eyes burnt and she had worked her fingers raw. The cut down her arm screamed, and the bandage she wore was saturated scarlet. Hunched over Trewoofe, she finally looped the last stitch into place, tying it off with a knot. Avice straightened her spine. She blinked several times as the blood rushed back to her head. She rolled her neck, trying to rid herself of the throbbing pain that radiated there. She palmed her eyes, dropping her hands and opening them only when she heard Trewoofe’s voice.

“Are you well, little witch?” he croaked.

She smiled down at him. “I am better than you, I think.”

Avice admired her handiwork. His chest and abdomen looked like a blanket that had been patched one too many times. The scar down his midline now criss-crossed with several new wounds that would also scar. She set to bandaging him up again, to keep the wounds protected, layering calendula flowers into each wrap. She stuffed the final wrap with wool to help absorb blood that may ooze through.

Her gaze travelled up, and their faces met. Large dark circles bruised under his eyes, and his cheekbones were hollow. Avice pressed her hand to his forehead.

“You are still cold to touch,” she said. “How do you feel?”

“The pain does not seem too bad, but I am freezing,” he replied, fangs still chattering.

Avice rubbed her stinging eyes with her fists. Her task complete, exhaustion seeped into her numb legs, and her arm throbbed again. She still needed to give him his tea, she stood up abruptly, and her world spun.

“Avice!”

Avice!

And a chirp, sounded all at once.

She clung onto the stone side of the hearth.

“I am alright,” she reassured, as her vision steadied. “I had been in one place at a strange angle for far too long.”

Bramble stepped down from the pallet and nosed at her. Are you sure?

She smiled down at her familiar. “Yes, I am fine,” she promised, and glanced at the steaming cauldron. “Yarrow tea…” She rubbed the back of her neck, glanced at her bloody arm, and inclined her chin at Trewoofe. “For both of us and then sleep is the best medicine.”

“I will do whatever you say, little witch.” He looked up at her, half-asleep, through his white eyelashes.

The way he said it made her toes curl in her boots. It reminded her she was still wearing them, and she kicked them off by the hearth. Padding through her cottage in her stockings, she gathered cups and a ladle and served two cups of the analgesic tea.

Avice sat beside him. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and scrabbled to grasp the cup. He managed to take it with his claw tips, and it was dwarfed in his massive hand.

“It is very hot. Do this.” She blew onto the surface of his tea. “To help cool it down…”

He nodded and copied her. The steam dissipated with his puff, before he brought the cup to his lips and lapped at it with his forked tongue.