Beside him, Miss Moreau stepped into action. “We need to get you settled, then I want to look at your feet and where the arrow hit you.” She used her shoe to sweep the debris on the floor to the side.
“You don’t need to worry about me.” He attempted to use his own foot to help clear a place on the stone floor, but the blanket wrap didn’t slide easily.
She’d said,“Get you settled,”which meant she would be leaving him soon. Of course she would. She was merely helping him escape. She would go back to her people. Would she be punished?
No doubt she would. His arms ached to protect her. Was there anything he could do? He had to ask. Had to do everything in his power.
He really wanted a few minutes to talk with Miss Moreau. Should he invite her to sit? This wasn’t quite like visiting over tea. That thought made the pinch in his belly twist. He’d not eaten anything today, and what time was it, anyway? He’d suspect shortly after noon, but with the thick gray clouds obscuring the sun, it was hard to tell.
He had the food Miss Moreau packed for him, but he’d need to ration it, especially until it was safe to leave the cave and hunt. But he could share some with her now.
She seemed finally satisfied that the floor was clean enough, and now she pulled a fur from her pack and spread it across the ground. She motioned to the pelt. “Sit.”
Dropping to his knees on the fur, he opened his own pack. “Are you hungry?”
She had placed his boots in the satchel, so he pulled them out and set them aside. Hopefully, he could get a fire going soon so the leather could dry out.
He pulled out the first bundle of food he came to and unwrapped it. Strips of some kind of roasted or dried meat lay on the leather wrapping. He held them out to her. “Have some.”
She was pulling things out of the bag she carried but paused long enough to glance at the offering, then up to his face. “You need to eat it.”
He had a feeling this woman would do for others without a second thought for herself, all the way until she fell over from exhaustion or hunger. He extended the food closer to her. “You probably haven’t eaten today, either. Please, have some.”
She dropped her gaze back to the food, and as she took a strip of meat, the hungry glimmer in her eyes showed more than she probably meant to.
He bit into his own piece—smoked venison that tasted better than any venison he could remember. He couldn’t recall being this hungry, either.
Miss Moreau munched daintily on her slice as she continued pulling containers from her bag. Most were pouches, but she added a round tin to the stack.
At last, she turned her focus to him. “Brielle said she hit you with an arrow. Where did it strike?”
With the question, the ache in his side made itself known, but he didn’t reach for the spot. “It was only a graze. A flesh wound.” That wasn’t entirely true, but he could tend it himself.
Her gaze began at the top of his head and worked its way down, scouring every part of him. “I’m our village healer. Brielle’s arrows are coated with a sleeping tonic I created that puts her prey in a deep sleep so she can find them. It was intended for animals but seems to be very effective on people as well.”
He had to do his best to keep his jaw from dropping open. Sleeping tonic? Was that what had overtaken him? He’d thought he was freezing to death. But it had really been sleeping tonic?
She was still talking, so he did his best to focus on herwords. “The other time a man was shot with an arrowhead dipped in the sleeping tonic, he seemed fine after he awoke. Then a day or so later, he developed a violent stomach ailment. I’m not certain if that was caused by the tonic or an unrelated malady, but I’d like to make a tea to help purify your blood.”
He could only stare at her as the facts lined up in his mind. “You poisoned me?”
10
Bile rose in Levi’s throat. Were these people more savage than he realized?
Miss Moreau’s brows drew together. “It’s only a sleeping tonic. All four of the ingredients I put into it are perfectly edible. I don’t know for sure if the mixture made Evan sick, but I’d rather not take chances with you.” Now she raised those brows. “Besides, I’m not the one who shot you with the arrow. I’m only trying to help.”
He blew out a breath. She was right. She’d sacrificed much to help him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that as an accusation. I was just ... surprised.”
She took up the tin and motioned down the length of him. “Show me the wound. I have a salve for it. After that, I’ll make a fire and brew the tea.”
This time he didn’t argue, just pulled his coat aside. The arrow still dangled from where the fletching had caught in the garment. He worked it out gently, then held that side of his coat away from his body. “The head only went in partway here.” He used two fingers to spread the tear in his shirt. The gash was small enough she shouldn’t worry over it. “I’ll put your salve on, then be as good as new.”
He let his coat flap shut. “Better I start the fire first. That candle’s burning low, and the wood will take a few minutes to create coals for heating.” He nodded toward the small pot she’d produced. “Do you have water for the kettle?”
She nodded, though a line still creased her forehead, indicating she wasn’t pleased with something. Probably the fact that he hadn’t stretched out so she could tend his wound. Healers could be sensitive like that. If the gash had really required stitching, he would let her. But he’d handled more than one scrape like this on his own.
He turned toward the sticks and debris she’d swept to the edges of the cave. “This will make good kindling. I saw a few branches dropped from the tree outside. That should burn for a while, and maybe by then I can sneak out to get more wood.”
