“What dost ye mean, I put it there m’self.” He weakly put a hand on his chest near the pocket.
“I’ve looked, I’ve looked everywhere. Unless it…” I stood up and looked all around his horse’s legs. “Did you drop it when you fell? Did you put it in the bag while you rode?”
“I can barely move, I couldna.”
My eyes wide, I said, “See, Torin, you could barely move! I swear when you survive this and we get out of here I am going to be so mad.”
His hand went to his shoulder with a grimace. I blew hair off my forehead.
I glanced back at the castle, no one was coming — one grace out of this whole ordeal.
I ran over to the bags left behind by the troops, and swiftly opened them, glancing inside, grabbing the handles, and rushing them back to Torin. One had a cross on the side,please let it be First Aid.
I dropped to my knees beside him and tore it open. “Yes! Okay, my love, I’m going to try to remember my First Aid class.” I found gauze pads, pressure bandages, antiseptic wipes, even a small bottle of iodine and a roll of medical tape.
“I’m going to do your hip first.”
I unbuttoned and zipped his pants and peeled them back, “Good pants, lots of stretch.”
They were bloody and I tried to hide the gag.
The bullet had carved a shallow furrow along the outside of his hip, it was ugly, and bleeding steadily, but with some tender prods it seemed no deeper than muscle. I pressed a thick gauze pad hard against it.
He hissed through his teeth.
“This one’s not too bad.”
I ripped open an antiseptic wipe, dabbed iodine around the edges, then folded fresh gauze into a thick compress and taped it down with long strips across his waist to keep pressure steady.
“I think that will hold until we figure out… everything else.”
I buttoned the top of his pants, climbed across him to his shoulder, and peeled his shirt down. “Aw, honey, now you’ve got another cut near the bandage, what are you doing to yourself? You’re a mess!”
“I hae been at war.”
A tear slid down my cheek. “You can’t die on me, Torin, please don’t.”
He weakly waved his hand around. “None of this will kill me, Princess, I’ve had harder knocks sparrin’ with Max on a fine spring day back when we were young and daft. Daena fret.”
“You promise?”
“Aye, I promise.”
The blade had given him a big deep cut on his shoulder, blood seeped dark and slow. I wiped the area clean as best I could, pressed another folded pad directly onto the wound, and bound it tight with the roll of bandage, looping it over his shoulder and under his arm like a sling to immobilize it.
He watched me the whole time, eyes half-lidded with pain but never leaving my face. “How am I goin’ tae use m’arm if ye tape it down?”
“You’re not, you’re going to let it rest.”
“Och, what happens if I hae tae fight us away?”
I joked, “I will be your sword.”
He gave me a half smile. “That is a terrible idea.”
I finished knotting the last strip.
“You have to let this shoulder heal, I’ve seen it injured too many times. I don’t like it, I’ve had enough. You don’t get to do that anymore.”
