It was Mattie.
She was kneeling alongside the surgeon as he discussed a gash on a man’s forearm. Mattie was very attentive, listening closely, but as Gar watched, it became clear that the surgeon asked her to stitch the wound. He was pointing at the gash, pointing at the box she was carrying around, which happened to be the surgeon’s box with a sewing kit in it. The surgeon took something out of his bag, told Mattie to stitch the wound, and then moved to the next patient.
“She’s trying very hard, ye know.”
The soft voice came from his right and he looked over to see his mother standing there, watching Mattie just as he was.
Gar smiled faintly.
“She is a woman of determination,” he said. “But I do not think she has ever tended wounded after a battle.”
“She hasna,” Rhoswyn said. “She came down here, asking tae help, but she has no experience, so she is shadowing the surgeon.”
Gar scratched his head dubiously. “I think the surgeon just asked her to stitch a wound,” he said. “She looks a little… green. I can see it from here.”
Rhoswyn chuckled softly. “Ye should have seen her with the man who fell from the wall,” she said. “She wanted so badly tae help, but she caught sight of the bone sticking out of the man’s shoulder and gagged twice before yer mother sent her tae help someone who wasn’t quite so mangled. But, God love the lass, she dinna fold. She’s still trying.”
Smiling faintly, Gar watched Mattie pull forth needle and thread in preparation for stitching up the gash. As he watched, she took another look at the wound and gagged, trying to cover her mouth with her hand.
“Brave,” he muttered, snorting quietly. “She’s very brave.”
“She is,” Rhoswyn said. “And I suspect she’s doing it because she knows that’s what’s expected. I dunna think she wants tae disappoint ye.”
“She could never do that.”
Leaving his mother, Gar headed over to where Mattie was staring down the laceration on the man’s arm as if she were looking straight into the jaws of hell. She still had her hand over her mouth, swallowing hard, trying desperately not to get sick.
“Queenie?” he said softly.
Mattie’s head snapped up, her gaze fixing on him. “You are well,” she said, sounding relieved. “I mean to say that you look well. Are you? Do you need assistance?”
Fighting off a grin, he shook his head and knelt down next to her, leaning over to kiss her on the head. “I only need to see you,”he said. “It looks as if you are doing good work. I am proud of you.”
She smiled wanly. “Are you?” she said. “I’ve never done this before, but I think I am getting better at it.”
He didn’t want to dispute her, but once she threaded the bone needle, she just stared at the open gash, trying to figure out how to sew the thing up. She lifted the needle as if to start it, but hesitated.
Gar took pity on her.
“Do you have any ale or wine?” he asked.
She nodded, letting out a most unladylike burp as she pointed to an earthenware bottle next to her. “Aye,” she said, covering her mouth discreetly and hoping Gar hadn’t noticed. “The surgeon gave this to me. He told me to give it to the men to ease their pain.”
Gar reached over her and took it. “Nay,” he said quietly. “This is what you do. Watch me.”
He took it and poured it right onto the open wound. The soldier groaned, Mattie gasped, and Gar took the needle from her and very swiftly stitched up the flesh that was still stinging with the wine. His stitches weren’t the neatest, but they were swift and in no danger of pulling. He made a row of five of them as Mattie watched with morbid fascination. Finishing the last one, he tied it off and cut the end.
“Now,” he said. “Bandage it up tightly. It is a deep cut, so you will want to check it in the morning to make sure poison isn’t setting in. When you do check it, rinse it with more wine. That keeps the poison away.”
Mattie nodded unsteadily, picking up some boiled linen from the surgeon’s bag. Without a word, she wrapped the arm very carefully, and very slowly, starting over at least three times because she wanted to get it perfect. Gar watched her, thinking she had a lot to learn about battle medicine, but very proud thatshe wanted to learn. She wasn’t going to give up, no matter how horrified or sickened she felt. When she was finally finished, Gar inspected the bandage with approval.
“You did an excellent job,” he said. “Is this truly your first time tending battle wounds?”
Mattie nodded. “My very first time.”
“I would have never known it.”
She gave him a long look. “Not much you wouldn’t,” she said. “But it is kind of you to say so. I will get better, I promise.”
