A Single Spark

by Tayvia Pierce

  I pulled my dagger from the embers, the narrow blade on the verge of glowing orange as I inspected it quickly, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly as my one hand gently pinched the two sides of his wound together, the other setting the searing metal to his skin. The putrid stench of burning flesh assaulted my nostrils, my eyes watering as I nearly threw up.

  Slowly, I drew the heated metal down the length of his gash, managing to successfully cauterize the majority of it. Blinking away the tears that had pooled in my eyes, I inspected the long gash, cauterizing the parts that I had missed, coughing as the reek of melted flesh burned the back of my throat.

  He will be drunk soon without drinking a drop, at this rate. Splashing more whiskey over the sealed injury, I tore a long strip from a tablecloth to use as a bandage. I had no salve, and knew already that the moment I rolled him over, no bandage would stay put.

  Honey. I remembered the herbalist in town mentioning its medicinal uses only the week before, and I ran to the cupboards, a few jars tumbling to the floor as I searched for our tin of honey. Taking a spoonful, I slathered some over the length of the cauterized wound and spread it evenly before pressing the bandage over it. Not only would it help prevent infection, but the sticky substance would hold the bandage in place.

  My triumph was cut short when my thoughts turned to rolling him over. He was considerably bigger than I, and once I finished, there would be no moving him to a bed. He can’t just lay on the floor... I stared hopelessly for 5 seconds, only one thing I could think to do. I ran to my bedroom and grabbed my blankets, lying them on the floor right next to him before folding them up into a makeshift bedroll. This would have to do.

  I took a deep breath and held the tablecloth strip and towel in place as best I could, hoisting his shoulder up with a deep groan. Slowly and carefully, I rolled him onto his back and onto the blanket, Ben rousing just enough to let out a whimper as his body twisted in the process, the freshly treated wound sending agonizing pain through his body. “I’m so sorry…” I whispered, grimacing and hoping I wasn’t causing more damage than good. “I will find you something for the pain when I’m done, I promise.” He was unconscious again, and for that I was grateful.

  The towel and strip miraculously didn’t shift from their place, and I pulled his jerkin off completely, along with the blood-soaked towel, tossing them to the side to finally look at the gash that began to bleed anew across his chest. It was similar to the one on his back, a deep cut into the muscle, though his ribcage had protected him from serious damage.

  I stuck the dagger back into the embers to heat it again, glimpsing the tattoo that marked his left pectoral, though I paid little attention to it at the time. It was a blazing sun with a crown wrought in flames in the center, but the blood oozing from his thigh injury brought me right back to the task at hand. With the amount of blood that stained his pants, I suspected the artery might have been nicked, which meant the fact that he still lived was miraculous.

  “Thank the gods, you had the sense to tie a tourniquet, Ben.” I mumbled as I peeled away the towel I had wrapped around the wound before untying the bandages and tourniquet he had tied. Blood poured from his thigh as the fabric was removed, and I had no choice but to grab the heated dagger and dig my fingers into the gash in search of the nick in the artery. Thank Kaeus, I found it swiftly, the bubble of blood marking the spot, and a quick press of my makeshift cautery tool to the artery halted the flow of blood.

  I found myself talking quietly, explaining to Ben in whispers what I was doing, even though I knew he couldn’t hear. Maybe I thought on some level he would understand me, or maybe I thought the mere sound of my voice and knowing that I was with him would help him cling to life and flee the call of Idhros, the god of death.

  While I had stopped the majority of the bleeding in his thigh, I couldn’t tend the injury as he was. I took his knife, sliding it down the side of his pants to cut the fabric. I felt my cheeks grow warm as my hands grazed the bulge in his pants as I pulled the fabric back, trying to arrange the bloodied fabric in such a way as to work on his thigh and preserve what propriety I could. “It’s a body part like any other,” The Head Surgeon’s lesson echoed in my ears. “It’s just like a heart, arm, foot, or lungs.” My concerns of indecency faded as I set to work, focusing on the injury itself and not what lay so near to it.

  This cut went deep, and the doubt I had in my own skill grew as panic began to surge anew. My hand trembled as it held the heated blade over his thigh, a million fears weaving doubt and dread into the fabric of my thoughts and giving me pause.

  “I’m not a surgeon!” I whispered out loud in my panic. “I’m just the girl who had a crush on his son!” I gasped for air, feeling my whole being growing cold with fear. “You are going to be a cripple and it will be my fault.” I whispered bleakly to Ben, knowing he wouldn’t hear my confession. A fresh trickle of blood bubbled out of the cut on his thigh and I realized he was beginning to rouse. It’s better to be a cripple than dead. Ben’s life was in my hands and with renewed determination, I promised not to fail him. I doused his thigh with more whiskey and drew the blade over the wound with a steadier hand and mind, searing the flesh to close the gaping wound.

  Ben’s breathing quickened as he slowly woke, his eyes opening slightly. glazed in his excruciating pain and he rasped. “Carys....” His fingers flexed as he began to lift his arm, gritting his teeth as he braced himself against the pain, his fingertips grazing my thigh where I knelt.

  I glanced over to him, hoping he wouldn’t see the panic on my face. “I’m here, Ben. You need to lay still. Please...just lay still.” I was so close to being finished, and I grabbed the bottle of whiskey, holding the dagger in one hand and lifting the bottle to his lips with my other. “Drink.” I ordered, a sternness in my tone that I didn’t intend to display. It was the closest thing to pain medication I had.

  He blinked slowly, but slowly lifted his head to take a pull, coughing and sputtering as the liquor hit the back of his throat. His body relaxed as he lay back down, still as death but for his fingers that tightly gripped my skirts like a lifeline. “I’m almost done...don’t move.” I whispered, trying to breathe steadily as I cauterized the last couple of inches of the gash along his thigh.

  He turned white as the pain bloomed, a choked cry seizing him before his fingers loosened their grip on my skirts, passing out once again. The cut that ran diagonally over his chest seemed simple in comparison to the others, and with growing skill and confidence, I cleaned and cauterized it, the end result being a thin line of burned flesh that would not leave too gruesome a scar.

  It was done...the gentle rise and fall of his chest spoke of the life he still barely clung to, but he would live. My hands shook even more now that the adrenaline was beginning to wear off as I painted his chest and thigh with honey before bandaging them tightly. I went back to my room, grabbing my pillow and finding a spare blanket to cover him with, building up the fire a little more to keep him warm and comfortable. He wouldn’t wake for sometime yet, and I hoped to have better painkillers than willowbark before that happened.

  I let out a long, exhausted breath as I sat back, finally looking around the cottage which looked like it had been ransacked. There was blood everywhere...all over the floor, all over my dress, all over the towels and the hearth where he fell...how is he even alive? The emotions I had been holding back in order to do what needed to be done finally broke through the dam, flooding me with all the panic and terror that I had miraculously held at bay, and sobs racked my entire body.

  I couldn’t stop the tears. They flowed while I scrubbed the blood from the floors; they flowed while I went outside to brush down Ffion and Tirzah; they flowed when I changed into a different dress; they flowed as I burned the soiled dress and towels that had no hope of coming clean again. I cleaned until there was nothing left to clean, finally curling up in absolute exhaustion on the couch next to where Ben lay.

  My eyes grew heavy-lidded as I wat
ched over Ben, profoundly relieved as I considered every single rise and fall of his chest a miracle. There is a certain clarity that comes with crisis, this was no exception.

  You can’t die. I watched his steady breathing, the rasping sound seeming to grow less as the night passed. I need you, so you can’t die. The realization of Ben’s importance in my life was growing at uncomfortable speed. Without you, there is nobody left who truly sees me, so you cannot die.

  Exhaustion soon claimed me, and I barely managed to pull a thin blanket up over me as I held the nearly dead Ben in my sights, drifting off into an uneasy slumber.

  CHAPTER 49

  I woke several hours later, my body stiff and protesting the awkward and uncomfortable position I had slept in. I stretched out with a groan, my eyes immediately falling to Ben where he lay, still in the same position. Easing myself from the couch, I knelt down next to him, pressing my fingers to his neck in search of a pulse while watching the faint rise and fall of his chest. The guttural rasping of his breathing had ceased, but his pulse was still weak, though had thankfully grown steadier over the last few hours. I nearly wept again, realizing that by some mercy of the gods, he might actually live.

  His eyes fluttered open, squinting up towards the ceiling in confusion before lowering in search of my face, blinking a few times as he tried to focus on my eyes. “Carys….” He whispered hoarsely, though I gently shook my head to him to stop him.

  “Don’t talk…” I whispered, my own voice thick with both emotion and exhaustion. “You need rest, and you need to stay still.” I instructed him firmly, though I did finally muster up a teeny smile, trying to put his mind at ease where I could. “And I’m fine...I waited at the Stag and when you didn’t show I came home and found you here. You are alive, but very badly injured, so you need to rest.” I adjusted his blankets a little before rising, selecting a few more pieces of wood to add to the fire.

  Relief flickered over his features briefly before he groaned in pain, trying to push himself up to sitting, though my palm firmly planted on his shoulder to gently hold him in place. “Rest. I mean it. You need to heal, and then you can tell me what happened when you have more strength.” I added, almost like an afterthought. I wanted desperately to know what had occurred from the moment he left me in the market until the moment I found him, but I needed to be patient. All in due time, but hurry up and get better!

  He nodded slightly, relaxing in the makeshift bedroll, though his eyes remained on mine. “Who?” He rasped, trying to ask his question and my brow furrowed in confusion, not sure what he was asking. He panted for air, seeing my confusion and tried to clarify. “Healer?” Understanding found me, but I hesitated to answer. I licked my lips nervously and cleared my throat. “It uh...was me. I cauterized your wounds and cleaned you up. You are barely held together and disinfected with whiskey, so please...don’t move. Once Derryth arrives, I will go to Lund and get proper supplies and pain medicine. I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

  He stared at me, his pain masking his thoughts and emotions from me, but I suspected the idea of me putting him back together was not what he wanted to hear. I turned away from him, looking towards the kitchen as I swallowed hard.

  “Go back to sleep, I will have Derryth fix you some soup when she arrives.” I could feel his eyes following me as I rose and headed into the kitchen, filled with a sudden restless energy and badly needing to stretch my aching body though it was all I could do not to pace as I awaited our cook.

  I thanked the gods when Derryth walked in only a few minutes later, the poor woman taking one look at Ben laying on the floor, unmoving and grey in pallor, instantly nearing a panic. “Lady Carys, what happened? Were you attacked?” She whispered, looking me up and down in search of injury.

  I glanced back to Ben before nodding to Derryth. “He was, though I have no knowledge of what happened. We split up in town and were going to meet, but he never showed. I came home and found him nearly dead. I cauterized his injuries as best I could, but I need to go get real medical supplies. Would you stay here with him?” She nodded emphatically, her graying bun bobbing along with her nod. “Make sure he doesn’t move, and he could probably use a little something to eat when he wakes. Broth, or something that will go down easily. I won’t be gone long.”

  Derryth nodded and said, “I will keep both eyes on him, don’t you worry.” She patted my arm quickly before I turned to go. “He is in good hands, m’Lady.” I nodded to the elderly woman before heading out the door.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  I was back within two hours, slipping quietly through the door to look anxiously towards Ben before searching for Derryth. She gave me a little smile as I headed to the dining room table where she sat, whispering. “He didn’t wake, I have some porridge cooling on the stove now, if you want to wake him to eat?”I glanced back to the sleeping Ben before nodding at Derryth. I didn’t really want to wake him, knowing that sleep was badly needed, but so was food, if he was to regain his strength.

  I had just reached Ben’s side when his eyes opened, turning his head to look with bleary eyes up to me. “I’m…..alive.” He rasped, sounding as surprised as I had been as his good fortune.

  I nodded, managing a weary smile. “You very nearly weren’t.” I told him, searching his face as though it might hold some answers. “Derryth has some porridge if you want to try to eat a little bit?” He gave a slight nod just as Derryth appeared behind me with a bowl and spoon, handing them to me. “I’m going to have to feed you as you must not move yet. Then I need to check your wounds and dressings and then I can give you something for the pain and to help you sleep, alright?” I informed him softly, not wanting there to be any surprises.

  He looked grim, but nodded reluctantly and I realized later how hard it must have been to accept help for the most basic of needs. He had his pride, and was never one to ask for help for anything. In that, he and I were very similar. He must have hated it...appearing weak...but he ate slowly, allowing me to spoon tiny amounts of the porridge into his mouth until he had enough.

  I set the bowl aside, wishing he could have managed to eat more, but it was better than no appetite at all. I pulled the bag filled with medical supplies towards me and began to take out what I needed: Proper linen strips and bandages, needles and thread for stitches, and vials of antiseptics and pain medicines.

  I grabbed the corner of his blanket, intending to pull it down and off of him in order to check his dressings, except he held it firmly in place with a fist tightly gripping the top edge. His breathing quickened and he shook his head. “No.”He argued hoarsely, wincing from the pain and effort of his grip.

  I stared at his fingers, nearly white as they gripped the blanket to his shoulder and my brow furrowed with confusion. “No? But...Ben...I need to check your wounds…” I looked to his face, formerly grim with resignation, now filled with trepidation bordering on panic. Is he that opposed to me tending to his injuries? I couldn’t help but feel slightly insulted as I gently tugged on the blanket again. “I mean it, Ben. I need to make sure you aren’t bleeding or getting an infection.”

  He panted for air, his eyes meeting mine, and I relaxed my grip on the blanket and lowered my voice so that Derryth wouldn’t hear, suspecting I knew the source of his opposition. “If you are worried about your manhood being exposed, you don’t have to worry, I made sure you stayed as covered as possible.” The man had visited brothels and I couldn’t imagine why my seeing his nakedness would make him nervous. I tried to reassure him nonetheless. “It’s a body part like any other.”

  He stared at me, bewilderment in his eyes as he maintained his grip, though slowly it loosened as his fearful look grew into bleak surrender. I exhaled slowly, relieved that I wouldn’t have to fight him further, and pulled the blanket to his waist. Carefully and slowly, I peeled back the makeshift bandages over his chest, leaning over to inspect the burns where I had cauterized.

  The skin that I had burned was dark, bordered in red from the applica
tion of the heated blade, but didn’t seem to show any signs of infection. “Thank the gods for honey” I murmured under my breath, seeing only a bit of dried blood remaining around the periphery where I hadn’t washed him. I grabbed a cloth and the antiseptic, the yarrow salve was a paste that the healer in the infirmary recommended, and I wrinkled my nose at the smell as I dabbed along the cut. The muscles of Ben’s torso were tight, and I murmured to him. “Relax, you aren’t doing your injury or your pain any favors.”

  He grunted his displeasure, but I was too busy trying to make sure he didn’t die of infection to give much care for his immediate comfort. My eyes were drawn to his tattoo again as I neared that end of his cut, now taking the moment to study the image more closely. My exposure to tattoos in general was very limited, the art not popular in Taurova, even despised in Perinthas. The Yehketim and U’sharrim were reputed to have many, hence the disapproval of inked skin in Taurovan culture.

  Ben’s breathing quickened again with my perusal of his inked image, and it clicked. That was what he didn’t want me to see, though I didn’t understand why. I had seen many men bearing tattoos here, and in my mind, his was no different. I looked over to him, though he was staring up to the ceiling now in seemingly forlorn acceptance. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t know what to say, so I resumed my disinfecting. I placed a new bandage on it, having an easier time wrapping the linen around him when he wasn’t unconscious.