“Who hurt her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are people still looking for her?”
“I don’t know.”
I threw him a dark look, but the expression on his face stopped me. For the first time since I had known him, James looked truly shaken. “She’s here,” James said, pointing ahead to a dark shape lying motionless on the ground at the base of some shrubbery. “She’s lost a lot of blood. I have no idea how she made it as far as she did.”
I ran the last few paces.
Laurel lay still beneath the trees, her skin so ghostly pale that for one heart-stopping instant, I was terrified I was already too late. The rising sun spilled over her face and showed the colorless curve of her mouth and the blood soaked through the front of the servant’s tunic she wore. James had already torn a strip of fabric from her tunic and bound it tightly around her middle, but the cloth was stained through.
“No,” I choked. I dropped beside her and pressed two fingers to her throat. For one breath, I felt nothing. My own pulse was pounding too hard in my ears, too wild and frantic to let me sense anything else. Then there it was. Her heartbeat was faint, but it was still there.
“She’s alive,” I breathed.
I gently pulled back enough fabric to examine the wound beneath. Blood still seeped from several deep tears across her side and middle, and the skin around them was stained and raw. My stomach twisted, but I forced my hands to remain steady. Panic wouldn’t help her. I had seen field wounds before and I knew how to bind them. But I knew enough to understand how much blood she had already lost and the danger that caused.
Without hesitation, I tore off my own shirt and ripped it into long strips. James copied me at once. I started to remove the old stained bandage, intending to replace it, but the movementmade the bleeding worsen, so I stopped immediately and bound the fresh strips over the top instead, pulling them tight and pressing both hands against her side. Laurel didn’t react at all, which frightened me more than if she had cried out in pain.
“Get water,” I ordered James, and he ran to obey.
“Don’t die,” I whispered. “Don’t die, Laurel. Don’t die.”
Her chest rose faintly then fell. I bent close, listening for every breath, counting each shallow movement as I waited for James to return.Don’t die, don’t die, I repeated silently, over and over again. She still didn’t move. This was a nightmare come to life. I could see Laurel’s life slipping away but was powerless to stop it.
James sprinted back with a water skin, his face pale. “Is she…?”
“Not yet.” I grabbed the water from him and lifted Laurel’s shoulders carefully. “Hold her head.”
James obeyed instantly. I coaxed a few drops of water into Laurel’s mouth but her head sagged to the side, and the water trickled out onto her already soaked tunic.
“No.” My voice nearly broke. I adjusted my grip and tried again. “Come on, Laurel.”
This time, her throat worked faintly and she swallowed. We repeated the process several times, each tiny swallow feeling like a tiny victory of its own, then I laid her back down and resumed pressure on the wound. She still didn’t wake.
Neither James nor I spoke for a long while. The sun climbed higher, and the forest around us brightened as though this were an ordinary morning. Far away, the castle would be stirring, servants would begin their duties, and everyone would be abuzz about the break in.
I rubbed Laurel’s cold hands between mine. They felt clammy despite the warmth of the day, and that frightened me. I dripped water into her mouth whenever I could coax her toswallow and kept whispering her name again and again, trying to force her awake through sheer willpower. She had always been impossible to command. But for once, I needed her to listen to me.
Hours passed.
“Baron,” James said eventually. “You should probably go back. I can take care of Laurel. Won’t your men be wondering where you are?”
“No. I’m supposed to be surveying land. I’m not due back until tomorrow night.” But I didn’t care about anything but Laurel. I touched her face. “I’m not leaving her.”
It was late afternoon before Laurel stirred. It was so slight I almost thought I imagined it. It was only a slight shift in her fingers, but it was there. “Laurel?” I asked instantly, my eyes riveted on her face.
Nothing happened. She had gone deathly still again. I closed my eyes and fought the sudden wave of despair that came with hope being snatched away so quickly.
“Should we take her back to your tent?” James asked quietly.
I glanced up. Gray clouds had begun swelling across the sky, blocking the sun and pressing low over the trees, threatening rain. “Yes.”
I lifted Laurel carefully into my arms. Her head rested against my shoulder, her body limp and frightfully light. When we got back to my tent, I laid Laurel on my bedroll and draped every blanket I had over her.
Please live, please live, please live.
