Sequel: The Game ›
Status: complete, but revisions are being made
The Pauper Princess
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Lady Mehta.” I tried my best to stifle my laughter, but even the prince was covered in mud. He looked to Ekohl for an explanation to my mood, but he simply shrugged and walked away to help finish saddling the horses.
“My lady,” he tried again, “It’s about Siya.” Instantly my laughter ceased.
“What about her?” I asked.
“An arrow made its way through the carriage window-” Fear spiked through my body, and I ran to the carriage before he could give any further information. The mud suctioned my boots, making it nearly impossible to move quickly, but I was gripped by the fear that I would open the door and find my friend dead on the floor.
I reached the carriage and pulled open the door. Mehta wasn’t dead, but she was obviously not doing well. The prince caught up and explained that none of his soldiers had much medical experience, and he preferred a woman to look after his bride anyway. He somehow found out that Mehta was the apprentice of a healer, so he believed that I could help her.
I looked to the arrow piercing Mehta’s side. It wasn’t a fatal wound, but it could become one if it wasn’t taken care of properly. She no doubt knew what had to be done, being the one who was truly the servant of a healer, but it takes much more than knowledge to be able to pull an arrow from one’s own body. Blood is trickling through Mehta’s fingers and her eyes are clenched shut as she tries to apply pressure to the wound. Her lips are moving as if she’s mumbling something, but I can’t hear any sound escaping her lips.
I look around the clearing and realize I can’t do anything for her. Everything is covered in mud, including myself. If I pull the arrow out now, there’s no telling what horrible infection could enter the wound. Plus, whatever cloth I used to stop the blood would be dirtied by my own hands.
“Get Ekohl,” I ordered of the prince, not knowing what else to do. I didn’t bother addressing him formally, and he didn’t bother correcting me. He jogged back the way we had come as quickly as the mud allowed. I carefully wiped my hand on the inside of my shirt before grasping Mehta’s unoccupied hand. She smiled weakly and gave my hand a light squeeze. I helped her work her way forward until she was leaning against the doorframe and her legs dangled out of the carriage. She closed her eyes in pain at every inch she moved, but her lips continued moving.
I concentrated on listening to hear what she was saying, but Ekohl and the prince came up behind me just then. I looked into Ekohl’s eyes, and I knew he could see how scared I was. Taking control of the situation, he put his hand on my shoulder and gently moved me out of the way. He reached over Mehta and grabbed a blanket that had been sitting on the bench. He pulled up his sleeves and used part of the cloth to wipe the mud off his arms and hands. Then, he pulled out his dagger and made a cut in the fabric so he could rip it.
“Can you sit up?” Ekohl asked gently. He put one hand behind Mehta’s back to steady her. She winced, but she didn’t lean back against the doorframe again. Ekohl turned to me and handed me another piece of the blanket. I quickly wiped the mud off my arms as he had done.
“I have to pull the arrow out,” Ekohl explained. “I need you,” he said, nodding to me, “to hold this cloth against the wound as soon as the arrow is out.” I nodded once to tell him I understood. I took the offered strip of cloth and folded it into a square.
“Ready?” Both Mehta and I nodded. Ekohl took Mehta’s hand and told her to squeeze it as hard as she could. With his right hand, he took hold of the shaft right near Mehta’s stomach. She clenched her eyes shut, and Ekohl quickly pulled the arrow free. Mehta cried out and I could see her grip on Ekohl’s hand tighten. I placed the cloth I had over the bleeding wound and pressed down.
“Alright, you did good, Mehta.” I didn’t know if he was really talking to her or me, but it didn’t matter. As soon as Mehta let go of his hand, Ekohl took the last strip of cloth and wound it around the bundle I held against her stomach. Once that was secure, he slipped one arm under Mehta’s legs and the other around her back. He carefully lifted her, making sure he kept her wound away from his muddied clothing.
The soldiers all fell silent as Ekohl carried Mehta to the group of saddled horses. The prince, who had stayed close during the whole ordeal, held Mehta and then carefully lifted her up in front of Ekohl. I mounted another horse, and the three of us took off at the fastest possible pace just as the prince turned to give his men orders to salvage what they could and make their way to the town.
“My lady,” he tried again, “It’s about Siya.” Instantly my laughter ceased.
“What about her?” I asked.
“An arrow made its way through the carriage window-” Fear spiked through my body, and I ran to the carriage before he could give any further information. The mud suctioned my boots, making it nearly impossible to move quickly, but I was gripped by the fear that I would open the door and find my friend dead on the floor.
I reached the carriage and pulled open the door. Mehta wasn’t dead, but she was obviously not doing well. The prince caught up and explained that none of his soldiers had much medical experience, and he preferred a woman to look after his bride anyway. He somehow found out that Mehta was the apprentice of a healer, so he believed that I could help her.
I looked to the arrow piercing Mehta’s side. It wasn’t a fatal wound, but it could become one if it wasn’t taken care of properly. She no doubt knew what had to be done, being the one who was truly the servant of a healer, but it takes much more than knowledge to be able to pull an arrow from one’s own body. Blood is trickling through Mehta’s fingers and her eyes are clenched shut as she tries to apply pressure to the wound. Her lips are moving as if she’s mumbling something, but I can’t hear any sound escaping her lips.
I look around the clearing and realize I can’t do anything for her. Everything is covered in mud, including myself. If I pull the arrow out now, there’s no telling what horrible infection could enter the wound. Plus, whatever cloth I used to stop the blood would be dirtied by my own hands.
“Get Ekohl,” I ordered of the prince, not knowing what else to do. I didn’t bother addressing him formally, and he didn’t bother correcting me. He jogged back the way we had come as quickly as the mud allowed. I carefully wiped my hand on the inside of my shirt before grasping Mehta’s unoccupied hand. She smiled weakly and gave my hand a light squeeze. I helped her work her way forward until she was leaning against the doorframe and her legs dangled out of the carriage. She closed her eyes in pain at every inch she moved, but her lips continued moving.
I concentrated on listening to hear what she was saying, but Ekohl and the prince came up behind me just then. I looked into Ekohl’s eyes, and I knew he could see how scared I was. Taking control of the situation, he put his hand on my shoulder and gently moved me out of the way. He reached over Mehta and grabbed a blanket that had been sitting on the bench. He pulled up his sleeves and used part of the cloth to wipe the mud off his arms and hands. Then, he pulled out his dagger and made a cut in the fabric so he could rip it.
“Can you sit up?” Ekohl asked gently. He put one hand behind Mehta’s back to steady her. She winced, but she didn’t lean back against the doorframe again. Ekohl turned to me and handed me another piece of the blanket. I quickly wiped the mud off my arms as he had done.
“I have to pull the arrow out,” Ekohl explained. “I need you,” he said, nodding to me, “to hold this cloth against the wound as soon as the arrow is out.” I nodded once to tell him I understood. I took the offered strip of cloth and folded it into a square.
“Ready?” Both Mehta and I nodded. Ekohl took Mehta’s hand and told her to squeeze it as hard as she could. With his right hand, he took hold of the shaft right near Mehta’s stomach. She clenched her eyes shut, and Ekohl quickly pulled the arrow free. Mehta cried out and I could see her grip on Ekohl’s hand tighten. I placed the cloth I had over the bleeding wound and pressed down.
“Alright, you did good, Mehta.” I didn’t know if he was really talking to her or me, but it didn’t matter. As soon as Mehta let go of his hand, Ekohl took the last strip of cloth and wound it around the bundle I held against her stomach. Once that was secure, he slipped one arm under Mehta’s legs and the other around her back. He carefully lifted her, making sure he kept her wound away from his muddied clothing.
The soldiers all fell silent as Ekohl carried Mehta to the group of saddled horses. The prince, who had stayed close during the whole ordeal, held Mehta and then carefully lifted her up in front of Ekohl. I mounted another horse, and the three of us took off at the fastest possible pace just as the prince turned to give his men orders to salvage what they could and make their way to the town.