The valley of horses_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [119]
Spirits were high—the blue bilberries had been especially sweet last fall, and the wine was stronger than usual. People were milling around, teasing Thonolan and Jetamio, laughing. Some were starting a question-and-response song. Someone wanted the stew reheated; someone else put water on for tea, after pouring out the last in someone’s cup. Children, not tired enough for sleep, were chasing one another. Confusion marked the shifting of activities.
Then, a yelling child ran into a man who was none too steady on his feet. He stumbled and bumped into a woman who was carrying a cup of hot tea, just as an uproar of shouts accompanied the couple’s dash for the outside.
No one heard the first scream, but the loud, insistent wails of a baby in pain quickly stopped everything.
“My baby! My baby! She’s burned!” Tholie cried.
“Great Doni!” Jondalar gasped, as he rushed with Serenio toward the sobbing mother and her screaming infant.
Everyone wanted to help, all at the same time. The confusion was worse than before.
“Let the Shamud through. Move aside.” Serenio’s presence was a calming influence. The Shamud quickly removed the baby’s coverings. “Cool water, Serenio, quickly! No! Wait. Darvo, you get water. Serenio, the linden bark—you know where it is?”
“Yes,” she said, and hurried off.
“Roshario, is there hot water? If not, get some on. We need a tisane of the linden bark, and a lighter infusion for a sedative. They’re both scalded.”
Darvo ran back with a container of water from the pool, slopping over the sides. “Good, son. That was quick,” the Shamud said with an appreciative smile, then splashed the cool water on the angry red burns. The burns were beginning to blister. “We need a dressing, something soothing, until the tisane is ready.” The healer saw a burdock leaf on the ground and remembered the meal.
“Jetamio, what is this?”
“Burdock,” she said. “It was in the stew.”
“Is there some left? The leaf?”
“We only used the stem. There’s a pile over there.”
“Get it!”
Jetamio ran to the refuse pile and returned with two handfuls of the torn leaves. The Shamud dipped them in the water and laid them on the burns of both mother and child. The baby’s demanding screams abated to hiccuping sobs, with occasional new spasms, as the soothing effect of the leaves began to be felt.
“It helps,” Tholie said. She didn’t know she was burned until the Shamud mentioned it. She had been sitting and talking, letting the baby suckle to keep her quiet and contented. When the scalding hot tea spilled on them, she had only realized her baby’s pain. “Will Shamio be all right?”
“The burns will blister, but I don’t think she’ll scar.”
“Oh, Tholie. I feel so bad,” Jetamio said. “It’s just terrible. Poor Shamio, and you, too.”
Tholie was trying to get the infant to nurse again, but the association with pain was making her fight it. Finally, the remembered comfort outweighed the fear, and Shamio’s cries stopped as she took hold, which calmed Tholie.
“Why are you and Thonolan still here, Tamio?” she asked. “This is the last night you can be together.”
“I can’t go off with you and Shamio hurt. I want to help.”
The baby was fussing again. The burdock helped, but the burn was still painful.
“Serenio, is the tisane ready?” the healer inquired, replacing the leaves with fresh ones soaking in the cool water.
“The linden bark has steeped long enough, but it will take a while to cool. Maybe if I take it outside, it will cool faster.”
“Cool! Cool!” Thonolan cried, and suddenly dashed out of the sheltering overhang.
“Where’s he going?” Jetamio asked Jondalar.
The tall man shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. The answer was clear when Thonolan ran back, out of breath, but holding dripping