it?”
“It is not good but not surprising either,” she told him. “I didn’t think I could get all the ill humors out of the wound. I pray we removed enough that his body can fight what remains.”
“What should we do?”
“Sponge him off and try to keep his fever down. I have an infusion I’ll make that will help with that. If he shows signs of chills, we must have more blankets to wrap him.”
Henrik nodded. “I’ll get more blankets.”
While he was gone, Fianna dipped a cloth into the water and swabbed it over Ranulf’s face and down his chest and arms. Like his brother, he was an impressively built man. In fact, if his face weren’t so gray and drawn, his hair so shaggy and unkempt, he would look a great deal like Henrik .
Odd that she didn’t have the same kind of reaction to him she had to Henrik . There was no tingle of excitement when she touched Ranulf , no frisson of longing for closer contact when she looked at him. He roused her pity and her concern as a patient but nothing more. In fact…
She froze, horrified by the thought that crossed her mind. It wasn’t something she could wish for. It wasn’t what she would want. But she couldn’t deny it was there. If this man were to die, Henrik wouldn’t go away. He wouldn’t leave his father on his own, no matter how much he longed for travel and adventure. And if he were staying, he’d likely want to see more of her, maybe even provide her with an alternative to the men of the town.
Nay. She didn’t want to think that way. He was her patient. She would do all in her power to save him, though she wasn’t truly sure how much that was.
She drew out the dagger and held it over Ranulf with the blade parallel to the length of his body. She stared hard into the red jewel in the center until the wash of scarlet filled her vision to the exclusion of all else. She waited for the vision of flames or even the sight of Henrik , but it didn’t happen.
After she’d looked into the jewel for some time, the red color began to swirl in a way she’d never seen before. The color seemed to flow in waves in an uneven, roughly circular way. She wondered if her sight were going odd, but couldn’t tear her gaze away from the jewel. No vision came to her, but she thought a voice spoke inside her head, saying, “ Choose.”
Choose what? she asked silently.
“What you pray for.”
What I pray for? I don’t understand.
“What do you truly want for this man?”
That he live or die, mean you?
“The choice is yours.”
Chapter Six
She felt as though someone had punched her in the stomach. This was no such responsibility she would want. Though she had to wonder if she just imagined the voice and the promise it implied. Perhaps it was just her imagination? But if it were so?
Temptation slashed a burning path into her gut. He was so very ill, so very close to death anyway. His passing would likely bring her what she wanted most in the world right now. She wouldn’t have to do anything at all, in truth, save fail to pray for his life. She could gain so much by it.
But Henrik would lose so much. His dream of travel and adventure would be smashed. And clearly he cared much for his brother. Ranulf’s death would bring Henrik terrible pain.
Fianna shut her eyes but she couldn’t shut out the vision of her patient dying and what it would mean for her. Tears leaked from beneath her lids and traced burning streaks down cheeks.
“Nay.” She said that word aloud. I cannot wish for his death. I’m a healer. Do I not give my best effort to help him recover, I lose more than a patient. I lose the most important part of what I am.
She would lose her soul.
She placed the dagger back in its sheath, closed her eyes and prayed to whatever gods might be listening for Ranulf’s healing. When she heard Henrik speaking to someone in the next room, she wiped the tears off her face with the sleeve of her dress and resumed sponging off the patient. He continued
“It is not good but not surprising either,” she told him. “I didn’t think I could get all the ill humors out of the wound. I pray we removed enough that his body can fight what remains.”
“What should we do?”
“Sponge him off and try to keep his fever down. I have an infusion I’ll make that will help with that. If he shows signs of chills, we must have more blankets to wrap him.”
Henrik nodded. “I’ll get more blankets.”
While he was gone, Fianna dipped a cloth into the water and swabbed it over Ranulf’s face and down his chest and arms. Like his brother, he was an impressively built man. In fact, if his face weren’t so gray and drawn, his hair so shaggy and unkempt, he would look a great deal like Henrik .
Odd that she didn’t have the same kind of reaction to him she had to Henrik . There was no tingle of excitement when she touched Ranulf , no frisson of longing for closer contact when she looked at him. He roused her pity and her concern as a patient but nothing more. In fact…
She froze, horrified by the thought that crossed her mind. It wasn’t something she could wish for. It wasn’t what she would want. But she couldn’t deny it was there. If this man were to die, Henrik wouldn’t go away. He wouldn’t leave his father on his own, no matter how much he longed for travel and adventure. And if he were staying, he’d likely want to see more of her, maybe even provide her with an alternative to the men of the town.
Nay. She didn’t want to think that way. He was her patient. She would do all in her power to save him, though she wasn’t truly sure how much that was.
She drew out the dagger and held it over Ranulf with the blade parallel to the length of his body. She stared hard into the red jewel in the center until the wash of scarlet filled her vision to the exclusion of all else. She waited for the vision of flames or even the sight of Henrik , but it didn’t happen.
After she’d looked into the jewel for some time, the red color began to swirl in a way she’d never seen before. The color seemed to flow in waves in an uneven, roughly circular way. She wondered if her sight were going odd, but couldn’t tear her gaze away from the jewel. No vision came to her, but she thought a voice spoke inside her head, saying, “ Choose.”
Choose what? she asked silently.
“What you pray for.”
What I pray for? I don’t understand.
“What do you truly want for this man?”
That he live or die, mean you?
“The choice is yours.”
Chapter Six
She felt as though someone had punched her in the stomach. This was no such responsibility she would want. Though she had to wonder if she just imagined the voice and the promise it implied. Perhaps it was just her imagination? But if it were so?
Temptation slashed a burning path into her gut. He was so very ill, so very close to death anyway. His passing would likely bring her what she wanted most in the world right now. She wouldn’t have to do anything at all, in truth, save fail to pray for his life. She could gain so much by it.
But Henrik would lose so much. His dream of travel and adventure would be smashed. And clearly he cared much for his brother. Ranulf’s death would bring Henrik terrible pain.
Fianna shut her eyes but she couldn’t shut out the vision of her patient dying and what it would mean for her. Tears leaked from beneath her lids and traced burning streaks down cheeks.
“Nay.” She said that word aloud. I cannot wish for his death. I’m a healer. Do I not give my best effort to help him recover, I lose more than a patient. I lose the most important part of what I am.
She would lose her soul.
She placed the dagger back in its sheath, closed her eyes and prayed to whatever gods might be listening for Ranulf’s healing. When she heard Henrik speaking to someone in the next room, she wiped the tears off her face with the sleeve of her dress and resumed sponging off the patient. He continued
Similar Books
