Page 82 of The Knucker King

“This is more my fault than yours.” She bit her lip. “This was one of the last parts I stitched. I was exhausted and getting lax with my technique. I am sorry, Lord.”

He caught her elbow as she turned away from him to rifle through her medical satchel, pulling out her needle and thread. “You have nothing to apologise for. You saved me, Avice. Twice. At much risk to yourself.”

Trewoofe’s words warmed her. She squeezed his wrist before gently extracting herself from his grip. His fingers dropped to her thick thigh. He gripped lightly through her chemise as she pulled out a needle and thread.

Avice had slept in his arms. Trewoofe had licked her belly. She craved more of his lingering touches and did not want to remove his hand.

She smiled at him. “Stone still. Just like before.”

“Of course.”

He was as good as gold again, only the skin where she repaired twitched, and that was a mere reflex.

“If only all my patients were as well-behaved as you.” She smiled at him. “I think, as you are healing so well, we should continue the treatment plan. I will rewrap your torso and arms, with the crystals against your wounds.”

Trewoofe nodded in agreement.

Avice reached into her satchel again. She tutted at the mess in there and made a mental note to tidy and organise it when she had the chance. She pulled out a bottle of healing waters and cloth, and dabbed lightly around the newly sewn area, wiping away the smears of silver blood.

Bramble sniffed the air. No more iron. I believe you will recover quickly now, Lord.

“Agreed.” Trewoofe grunted as he sat up, removing his hand from Avice’s knee and grazing his claws at the top of his old scar. “Thanks to you three.”

The Grim wagged his tail and Ashling chimed. He floated up and perched on one of his horns.

Avice went back to fumble through her satchel and found no bandages. She stood, stepped over Trewoofe’s long legs and off the pallet. She opened and rifled through the coffer she kept her medical supplies in.

“God’s blood,” she hissed.

“What is it?” Trewoofe asked.

She turned to him, hand on her pendant. “I am out of bandages.”

Trewoofe pointed to the pile of silver-stained linen she had discarded by the bed. “Can we not just reuse those?”

Avice shook her head. “They need to be clean…”

Her eyes drifted over to the bolt of purple cloth she had abandoned by the door. She made her way to it and stooped down to press the material to her face. It was soft and, most importantly, it did not smell of iron or oil. She felt a prick of regret at the thought of cutting it up for bandages, as she had hoped to make some clothes from it.

Avice fetched her scissors from the table, and with careful snips, sliced even strips through the buttery soft purple.

“Little witch…” Trewoofe shifted around on the pallet so he was facing her. “Are you sure? We were going to use that for other things.”

“I am sure.” She nodded. “I ran out of bandages treating my other patient earlier today. Your health is more important than a pretty dress or tunic. The bandages help stem any bleeding from your wounds. It also means you will not bleed all over our pallet,” she teased.

Trewoofe’s lip quirked. “You said you would tell me later, so what happened today? What was so serious that you went out in a storm like this?”

Avice, about halfway through the cloth, guessed she had cut enough. “The storm did not pick up until near the end of his treatment; it was freezing when I left though.” She gathered up the strips and made her way back over to the pallet. “I still do not quite believe it myself, but a fisherman was attacked by a Morgowr. It nearly bit his arm off.”

Trewoofe lifted his arms as she knelt beside him and began to wrap him. “I am certainly not an expert on them, but I have never heard of a Morgowr attacking humans before.”

“Neither have I.” Avice reached for the crystals that had dropped to the bedding and slipped them underneath the first layer.

“What did you end up doing for his treatment?” he asked.

“I had to amputate.” She reached for more cloth. “The arm was already dead.”

Trewoofe wriggled as she tied off a knot near his armpit. “That is wise. I have seen dead limbs on Faeries take the rest of the body with them in the past.”