Her brother? Horrified, Leila did not wait to hearmore. She dashed past the serving woman and down the spiral stairs, one wordboring into her brain.
Poison.
She knew from experience that time was of the essence.Perhaps it might already be too late. In all the cases of poisoning she hadseen at the Hospital ofNureddine, whether fromsnakebites, scorpion stings, or a deliberate act of treachery, few suffererssurvived unless they were brought in very quickly for treatment.
No, don't even think it! Leila told herself fiercely,tearing outside the keep. She lifted her skirts and raced across the bailey asfast as she could.
It seemed the entire castle was in an uproar, servantshuddled here and there in nervous groups, extra guards manning the castlewalls—perhaps fearing another attack by her brother?—and agitated knightspacing in front of the hospital. Yet the men cleared a path for her to thedoor. Leila entered in a rush, stopping short just beyond the threshold at thesight that greeted her.
She could have sworn she had been transported back intime to the night she first saw Guy in the governor's prison.
The room was brightly lit by a dozen or more oil lampsand braziers aglow with fresh coals. Guy was sprawled on two beds that had beendrawn together to accommodate his size, and he was surrounded by several knights,Henry Langton among them, who worked feverishly to remove the last of his armorand under clothing. Philip was standing with his back to her at the side of thebed, directing the men.
Seeing the priest, Leila was filled with anger, but sheknew she must keep her emotions in check. She did not have time to think orfeel. She could only react. Guy's life depended upon it.
"Sir Henry, how long ago did this happen?"she asked in a tone laced with authority, hurrying toward the cupboard whereshe kept all of her supplies. She quickly piled a thin, sharp knife, linenbandages, and a vessel of olive oil in an earthenware bowl.
Henry glanced up, clearly relieved to see her. "Aquarter hour, maybe a little more—"
"There is no need to trouble yourself, Lady Leila,"Philip interjected. "I've already preparedaherbpoultice to soothe my brother's pain, and St.Rochus,the patron saint of limbs, has been invoked against the vile poison."
Leila gave him little notice as she moved briskly tothe bed, her eyes on Henry. "Sir Henry, it is my understanding that when alord is indisposed or away at court, the wife takes temporary charge of theestate. So I recall being told by the good priest here during my tour of thiscastle. Am I correct?"
"Yes."
She skipped her gaze to Philip. "Then kindlyremove Father D'Arcy from my husband's bedside so I may treat his injury.Unless of course, Father D'Arcy chooses to leave willingly. I believe inprayer, but his particular remedy of invoking the saints to heal my lord'swound will not be needed."
Without waiting for a reply from either of them, shesat down on the bed and arranged her supplies in front of her. She noticed herhands were shaking and tried to keep calm despite her unease at the ashenpallor of Guy's face. Please, please may I not be too late . . .
That was the last such thought she indulged herself.Ignoring Philip's loud protests as he was escorted to a far side of the room,she tied a linen tourniquet just above the small, jagged hole in Guy's lowerthigh.
"Hold him down," she directed the two knightswho remained at the bedside as she began to feel gently around the wound.Recalling how Guy had struggled against the scorching irons, she added, "Youmight want to call a few others to help. The pain of this treatment may beenough to overcome his unconsciousness."
As three more knights hastened forward from the hushedgroup standing just inside the door, Leila realized grimly that the arrowheadwas still inside the wound, something Philip had obviously missed. She went tothe cupboard and fetched wine vinegar to use as an antiseptic and some surgicaltools. They weren't as finely made as the ones she had used in Damascus, butthey would have to do.
She knelt by the bed this time, daubed around theswollen area with wine, and set to work. To her relief Guy did not evenstir,a good thing because the procedure was delicate. Inminutes she had removed the iron head, silently cursing whoever had shot theoffending arrow, and tossed it with disgust into the bowl.
"Keep holding him," Leila ordered, smearingher lips and the inside of her mouth with olive oil to disinfect them. Sheheard gasps as she began to lance the wound with the razor-sharp knife andvigorously suck out the blood and poison. Probably no one present had ever seenthis procedure done before. She immediately spat into the bowl, repeating theprocess until she judged she had cleansed the wound. Wiping her mouth, shedecided to allow the bleeding to continue for a moment to flush the nowslightly larger hole. Meanwhile, she would prepare the plaster needed to drawout any remaining poison.
Knowing all eyes were upon her, she worked quickly atthe cupboard preparing a paste ofsulphur, salt, andcitron, the seed of which was known for its extraordinary power against allkinds of poison. After crushing and mixing the ingredients with vinegar andoil, she hurried back to the bed. She cleansed away the blood, then packed thewound with the plaster and covered it with bandages.
Still she was not finished. Guy must take some medicineinternally. She prepared another concoction, this time crushing only the innerkernels of citrus seed. Stirring two drams of the powder in a cup of wine, sheapproached the two knights holding Guy's arms.
"Lift his shoulders and head. He must drink thismedicine."
"It is blasphemy, I tell you!" Philip cried,able to remain silent no longer. "She'll only make him worse."
When the knights hesitated, regarding her doubtfully,Leila began to quake inside. Surely Philip would not sway them! She fought tokeep her voice steady as she said with as much sternness as she could muster, "Theplaster I applied to his wound will not save him if some of the poison hasalready spread into his body. Only with this medication will he have a chance."
"Dammit, you're wastingtime, youfools!" Henry shouted, rushing to thebed and pushing the closest knight out of the way. "I'll help you, mylady." He lifted Guy from behind, but his head hung limply. "Hold uphis head or you'll lose yours, I swear it!" he commanded the other knight,who hastily obliged.
Casting Henry a grateful glance, Leila concentrated onopening Guy's slack mouth and pouring in small amounts of the liquid. To hersurprise he groaned, choking slightly, his eyes flickering open and thenclosing again. He was still far from conscious, but this slight change in hiscondition helped her give him the rest of the medication.
At last the cup was empty and she began to breathe abit easier. Yes, now he had a chance.
"Lay him down, Sir Henry . . . gently." Leilarested the back of her hand upon Guy's cheek. He had a fever, but that was tobe expected. His body was doing battle with the poison that had invaded him.Covering his nakedness with a blanket, she turned and faced the roomful ofobservers.
"I've done what I can for now," she saidtruthfully, looking from one concerned face to the next but avoiding Philip'seyes. "Only time will tell if any further treatment will be needed. Isuggest you all retire to the hall, where I'm sure supper is waiting. There'snothing you can do here. I'll let you know at once if his condition improves"—she felt a catch in her throat— "or worsens."
