Fires of Prophecy_ Book Two of the Morcyth Saga - Brian Pratt [113]
“Any ideas?” Jiron asks.
“We could cut cross country, try to find someplace away from civilization,” Roland suggests.
“But that would be the first place I would look if I was them,” Jiron replies. “Of course, any place near here will be searched in no time, as well. No, I think we better put as much distance between us and them that we can, stay on the road as long as possible.”
Scar understands the logic, but is worried for his friend who doesn’t look very good. “Hang in there Pot ol’ boy,” he says to him.
A little after midnight, James regains consciousness, though is still extremely weak and tired. “What’s going on?” he asks, looking around groggily.
“We’ve been riding all night, ever since you blew up the bridge,” Jiron tells him. “Right now we’re looking for a good place to stop and rest.”
“Can’t take the chance that their forces will get ahead of us,” he says. “We’ve got to keep moving.”
“Potbelly is in a bad way and the horses are tired,” Jiron explains. “We can’t keep going very much longer.”
“I’ll leave it to your judgment then,” he says, before passing out again.
Roland comes up next to him and asks, “Why not go off the road here and see if we can find a spot? We’ve traveled a long ways and hopefully their patrols won’t reach this far so fast.”
“You’re probably right,” he agrees. “Anyway, James and Potbelly need to rest.” He leads them off the road and they travel cross country for another hour before coming to an old abandoned farmhouse. They bring James and Potbelly inside before they picket the horses nearby.
Delia has them lay Potbelly on the floor in the front room. Scar stays with her while the others see to the horses. She begins to unbind his bandages around the bolt. She looks to Scar and says, “It’s time for it to come out.” Removing the rest of the bandages, they can see where the skin around the shaft of the bolt is beginning to turn red. Drops of blood continue to well out from around it.
He nods as he watches her take out a needle and remove a thread from her shirt.
When she has the thread through the eye of the needle and tied securely, she says, “Alright, you gently pull out the bolt and I’ll sew it close.”
He grabs the portion of the bolt sticking out of Potbelly’s side and looks to Delia who nods. Then with a gentle, even pull, he removes the bolt as blood begins streaming out.
“Quickly!” she says to him, “pinch the wound closed so I can sew it together.”
As he holds the wound together to inhibit the flow of blood, he looks to the unconscious Potbelly and murmurs, “Glad you’re not awake for this.” He continues holding the wound together until Delia has completely sewn it closed. Tying it off, she has him remove his hands and the stitches hold securely, only a few drops of blood continue seeping through between the stitches.
Taking some water, she washes away the blood from Potbelly’s side and then dries it with an extra shirt. Using strips of cloth she tore from a spare shirt, she once more binds the wound. When she’s done, she says to Scar, “Hopefully we can rest here at least a day to let this heal. Keep a watch on him and don’t allow him to move around very much, we don’t want him to tear open the stitches.”
“I will,” he assures her as he settles down next to his friend.
When the others have returned from picketing the horses, Jiron sets up a watch schedule and takes the first shift. He finds a place outside where he can see anyone approaching and settles in until its Scar’s turn.
Shortly after he begins his watch, Delia comes out and sits with him. “You need to get some rest,” he tells her.
“In a moment,” she replies. “Just needed to get out of there for a bit.”
“Potbelly’s snores bothering you?” he asks her with a smile.
“No, not really,” she replies back. “I just can’t get being questioned by Lord Cytok off my mind.”
“It’ll get better over time,” he assures her. “Some things, especially intense situations like that, have a way of hanging around longer with you than