The Bronze Bow - Elizabeth George Speare [27]
Consciousness returned slowly. At first he was aware of something soft under his head. For the moment that was enough, and he lay motionless, while pain flowed in again across his chest and side. Finally, as the sharpening pain prodded him awake, he was able to open his eyes. It must be night; he could see nothing in the blackness.' Then he realized that someone was bending over him, and gropingly he made out a woman's head with dark masses of hair, her face a white blur in the dimness. Then he remembered and struggled to move. Instantly the sick blackness roared over him. After a time it all started over again, the pain, the groping, the face of the girl still looking down at him.
"Where am I?" he asked carefully, not moving.
"Hush!" Malthace whispered. "Don't speak out loud. You're in a storage room."
The words reached him from a great distance. He lay trying to grasp their meaning.
"Daniel," she whispered again, "can you hear me?"
"Yes."
"I'm going to go and get something for your wound. Just lie still and don't make any noise. I'll come as soon as I can. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
There was a rustling and a streak of light, then blackness again. He understood only that she had gone and that he did not need to move.
After a time the streak of light fell across him again. The girl was bending over him once more.
"Are you awake?" she whispered. "Here. Drink this. I'll hold it for you."
The cool rim of a cup touched his lips. A gentle hand lifted his head. The wine was strong, with an unfamiliar bitter taste. It spread warmly down his throat into his chest, pushing back the pain.
She set down the cup. "Now I have to pull away this cloth. I'll try not to hurt you."
He clenched his teeth while she slowly eased the blood-stiffened tunic from his ribs. The wine made his head swim. He suspected there must have been medicine in it. He was aware that she was sponging his side, and he smelled the pungent odor of dill and the sweetish fragrance of oil, and felt a soft dry cloth against his side.
"How did I get here?" he murmured.
"I dragged you in. Why didn't you tell me you were hurt? Joel would never have forgiven me if I—if anything—"
She fell silent, bound the cloth snugly against him, and held the wine again to his lips.
"I can't stay any longer," she said then. "Joel will be here soon and he'll know what to do. Don't move. Just wait till we come."
He did not know how long he waited, drifting in a sluggish river. Finally the crack of light appeared, widened, and when it closed there was still light. Joel had brought a candle, the flame lighting up his worried face.
"Daniel—are you all right? Thank God you came here!"
"I—didn't know—where—" Daniel began.
"Don't talk. I heard what happened. They're searching all over town. When Thace told me I knew it must have been you. You were crazy, Daniel!"
"Don't make him talk, Joel." Malthace was close behind. "See, Daniel, I've brought some gruel for you. Can you eat a little?"
Joel held the candle while the girl dipped up spoonfuls of gruel. It tasted warm and good, but the effort was too great. After three attempts he had to close his eyes and rest. Presently he forced himself to speak again.
"I have put your house in danger."
"No. They'll never think of searching Father's house. Let me look at that wound, Daniel." Joel knelt down and cautiously pulled away the bandage. He let out a slow whistle. "You're lucky. Another inch or so! There's a nasty hole. No use arguing, you'll have to stay quiet."
Daniel did not attempt to argue. He knew he could not even get to his feet.
"I don't think this place is safe," Joel went on. "One of the slaves might come to get grain any moment. There's a passage between the two walls. Thace and I discovered it when we were children visiting here. If we lift you onto a mat and drag you, can you stand it?"
"Yes," he said. He could stand anything in his helpless gratitude.