Chapter 21: In the Thick of It

“Hold him still! This is going to hurt like hell but if we don’t hold him down, I can’t get it out!” Saffron yelled to the young soldier next to her. He nodded and restrained the thrashing man on the table before them. Fresh, hot blood spurted from the wound in his leg, a large arrow protruding from the gash. She held the victim’s face in her hands.
“Look at me.” She crooned and his wild eyes found hers. “This is going to hurt but once it is out, I can heal it. You cannot move.” She said. He nodded once, tears and sweat mingling on his dirty face. “Bite down on this,” she said and placed a rolled-up bandage into his mouth.
She instructed the soldier to tie a rope tight around the man’s upper thigh. “I’m going to remove it after the count of three. As soon as it is out, I need you to place the cloth there. Got it?” the soldier nodded, looking queasy.
“I do not have time for you to fall ill as well. Are you able to do this?” she asked him impatiently. He took a gulp of air and nodded. “Good. One, two, three!” the wounded man’s scream tore through the night.
Saffron dropped the arrow onto the table next to her and quickly poured a tincture into the seeping wound. The man had stopped moving. She quickly checked his pulse with her bloodstained fingers. It was thready but he was alive. With a few deft strokes, the wound was closed. She spread a thick sharp smelling salve over it and wrapped a clean bandage around it.
“Thank you. You are free to go,” she said to the pale, shaking soldier that had been assigned to help her. His skin had taken on a worrying shade of green, so she ushered him from the tent. She motioned for two other soldiers to move the wounded man into the tent with the other recovering soldiers. Her bones ached and her muscles protested as she cleaned the table, the soapy water turning pink as she washed the blood away.
She had been working in the surgery tent since sun-up when the first of the wounded began to return. She hadn’t seen Elric all day, but he had assured her that he would be in the command tent most of the day with his other captains. He had been furious that she wanted to help. He didn’t like how close she was to the fighting, but she would not be persuaded away.
“Thank you for all of your help. Had you not made those tinctures, I’m not sure some of those men would still be among the living,” the surgeon, whose name was Wybert, said to her.
“It is what I live for although I will say, I don’t think I have ever removed so many arrows in one day,” she replied with a weary laugh. He chortled.
“Yes, that is the biggest casualty of battle, aside from sickness of course,” he replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose. They were both weary and blood splattered. Saffron wondered if she would ever get the blood out from beneath her nails. Even if she did, she mused, the battle had sunk into her bones. The echoing screams of wounded and dying men would never leave her.
“Go get some rest. I have a few skilled healers that will help throughout the night,” he said and took his leave of her. She nodded and left the tent, her footsteps weary as she walked back to her and Elric’s tent, which was the furthest from the front line.
A fire glowed from within and she gleefully hurried, hoping that he had been warming water. She wanted nothing more than to wash the grime from her body and slip into bed. Two large bowls sat in the middle of the table and Elric was stoking the fire. He turned as she entered.
She saw relief flitter through his eyes until they landed on her arms. She was covered to the elbow in sticky dark blood. “It’s not mine,” she replied. He laughed darkly. He was still not happy that she was helping but he understood the call of duty, nonetheless.
“I’ve warmed some water for you. The soup might have gotten cold,” he said.
“I could kiss you,” she exclaimed as he hefted the large bubbling pot of water from the stove and to the ground. He leaned over and kissed her, avoiding any miasma on her face. She grinned up at him and stripped her soiled gown, standing only in her shift. She wondered if the gown was ruined. She could perhaps use it to make more bandages tomorrow.
Elric sat back down at the table and uncorked a bottle of strong-smelling wine. He poured himself a cup and gazed over at her. She realized that he looked relatively clean. “You already bathed?” she asked as she grabbed the lump of soap and began scrubbing at her arms.
“I did. One of the horses was injured so I helped out. The bastard ending up kicking me and I fell into a rather disgusting puddle. The men had a great laugh over it though, seeing their Captain up to his arse in the muck,” he said with a wry smile. She giggled and reveled in the hot water sliding across her skin. She could not wait to get back to an actual tub even though the thought made her feel guilty.
When she was done and clothed in one of her cleaner nightgowns, she joined him at the table. His eyes were tired but there was a glow about him that she had not seen before. He was where he belonged and if she were honest with herself, she was too.