The Hand

Part 13

The cold compress sent droplets of water streaming down the side of Elle's face. Rook held the rag to her forehead, waiting for Elle to wake up. He watched her face for any movement. A twitch or a shift, anything. Nothing came. He just sat there, in the medical station, waiting.

Around him the camp was bustling. Men were running around setting up tents and getting cooking fires going. The medical station was even more of a mess. The company only had one physician and his two assistants. They were running back and forth between stretchers and bedrolls to give the wounded the care they needed. Thanks to them, no one had died yet. Yorick, the physician had done the best he could for Elle, for she had suffered internal bleeding in her abdomen and a slight concussion from the fall. He had patched her up and given her medicine to prevent infection but she had yet to wake. He said that the rest of her healing was up to her.

"So, you knew she was a woman the whole time?" Tucker asked Rook.

"Yes, I recognized her face from my childhood. And it was her dagger that gave it away as well," Rook said, blankly. 

"Hmm . . . now that I look at her I don't know how I could have believed she was a man. I had some very . . . interesting conversations that I now deeply regret," Tucker said, shaking his head. That got a small chuckle out of Rook. Tucker smiled, happy to see his friend experience some joy.

"Come on Elle, wake up. Wake UP!" Rook nearly yelled.

"I told her war was not a game, I told her it would be dangerous, I told her she should go home to her family, I told her . . . I told her . . . I told her I would protect her," Rook was nearly in tears. 

Tucker put a hand on Rook's shoulder. He gripped him firmly. "War is war, my friend. There was nothing you could have done. She was too far away. You have to stop blaming yourself, it's getting you nowhere. You heard the doc, it's up to her now. All we can do is wait,"

Rook shifted his gaze from Elle to Tucker. He nodded slightly. A smile slowly appeared on his face. "I didn't know you were capable of suck wisdom, Tucker," he said, with a little feeling. 

Tucker clapped him on the back. "I have my moments," He said, with a grin. He stood up.

"We need to eat, I'll go and grab whatever is being made. I heard that Tommy killed a wild boar when he was out foraging. We should get some before it's all gone," Tucker said.

"First, you need to get that wound checked out. I can't believe you have been going about all afternoon with that thing dripping blood. I can't believe I haven't noticed until now," Rook said, noticing the wound on Tucker's forearm. It was a long and deep cut from his wrist to his elbow. It must have been from a failed block attempt.

"Oh, this? Nah, it's only a scratch. It'll heal in time," 

"No Tucker, bring it here. Hmm . . . yeah that hurts, doesn't it? Stop squirming!" Rook said, examining the wound. He had a limited knowledge of first aid. You had to, to be an officer. The wound wasn't as deep as it looked but it still needed stitches. 

"Go find one of Yorick's assistants. They'll stitch you up. Then you can go find us some food,"

"Fine, I'll be back soon," Tucker said, striding through the medical station, searching for one of the staff.

Rook returned his attention to Elle. He rung out the rag and dipped it in a bucket of cool water. He squeezed out the excess water and placed it back on Elle's forehead. He applied pressure and waited. He watched the rise and fall of her chest. At least she was breathing normally. In the beginning, her breaths were short and few in between. She had been stripped down to her first layer of clothing so the doctor could work. Every man who passed by could instantly see she was a woman. Word of that would spread quickly. Rook meant to address that as soon as she woke. He had quite the speech prepared.

Rook drifted into despair as he held the compress to her head. She had been like that for hours. They had made camp around noon and it was nearly dusk now. His heart sank even deeper as he replayed the scene in his head. The club smashing into her side and her body being tossed through the air like a rag doll. The thud as she hit the ground and stopped moving. Why wasn't he faster, he thought. Why didn't he go to her side as soon as the battle began? If she died he would never forgive himself.

Another half hour passed while he was sitting there, reflecting and worrying. He was broken from his thoughts as he felt a stirring beneath his hand. He saw Elle's eyelids flutter for a brief moment. He removed the cold compress and began to speak softly to her.

"Come on Elle, you're almost there. Just open your eyes," He said encouragingly, not even sure if she could here him.

Elle let out a murmur. Rook's heart lifted as soon as he saw her lips part. He just waited. He was too anxious to speak. Elle's eyelids fluttered again but this time she was able to open her eyes for a moment.

"Yorick! Ed! Roy! Any of you, get over here! She's waking up!" Rook called out behind him. Yorick materialized behind him a few moments later. He was a man in his forties with black hair that had flecks of grey. He wore a dark overcoat and was still wearing his mail beneath it. He never had time to change out of it. His arms were soaked in blood halfway up his forearms. He was wiping them off in a damp towel as he strode over to Elle. He began barking orders to anyone whose hands were free. Drinking water was brought, along with her uniform, cleaned as well as it could be, out in the forest. 

Elle blinked her eyes, trying to keep them open.

"Rook," she croaked. A feeble smile began to form on her lips. "I knew you'd be here," she said, forcing her eyes to stay open. She tried to sit up but couldn't on her own. Rook pulled her torso up and held her upright. He took the water and offered it to her. She quickly accepted it and drank as if she had been dying of thirst.

Yorick bent over her and stared into her eyes. He held her eyelids back, peering into her pupils.

"What's your name, young lady?" He asked.

"Elle . . . Renfield, of East Peak," she said, still sounding weak.

"Where are you right now?"

Elle looked around her. "A field hospital of a sort, I assume. In a camp you must have set up after we won the battle?"

Yorick nodded. "The concussion has not affected her at all. The worst is over, it was not as grave as I had feared,"

Rook sighed in relief. Elle was alive and well. "Tucker should be here with some food soon, you just relax for a while. Let your body heal,"

Elle just smiled. She reached out and grabbed Rook's hand. Her grip was so weak. He grasped her hand firmly. Rook suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw Tucker standing beside him. Tucker had a wide grin plastered across his face. Rook noticed the large bowl of food resting on the ground beside him. 

"Oh gods, I'm gonna be sick in a moment if you guys don't stop staring at each other. I'm still in shock that you aren't a guy!" Tucker exclaimed. Elle blushed and let go of Rook's hand. 

"Let's eat, I'm starving! I brought extra too, just in case you woke up. And Rook here never told me your name," said Tucker. He stooped to pick up the food he brought.

"Elle, my name is Elle." she said.