BEAUTY IN EXILE

||CHAPTER 11

Wangui and her companions ran through the thick wood and vegetation with determination. A step into the wrong direction, her cut split indicating the right direction. It was painful but she ignored it. All she wanted was to get to Gitahi. She was grateful to have thought of the little act of connecting them. If she hadn't, perhaps she would lose him. A thought that made her almost feel like hanging herself. It was obvious that he had become her life and if he died she would too.

Dusk was approaching and they needed to run faster. However, their legs wouldn't take it. They were growing numb by the minute. When they could, they stood or sat for a while though the cut on her finger wouldn't let her. To mask herself, she would walk slowly until she felt ready to run again.

Ngare sniffed and whined as he caught Gitahi's scent. Wangui got it too. She trudged through the trees and sooner than later, she arrived at a grassy opening. She saw him lying on the tall grass. Somewhat unconscious, whimpering, invariably cold and shivering. She took note of the deep wound around his bicep. It was gross to look at. The blood and the dissolving poison had formed a dark liquid that kept flowing its way on the grass. Ngare sneezed at the sight of it. You'd have thought the animal was allergic to blood. Wangui fell on her knees and inspected it carefully. The couple did the same. She figured that no first had been done to wound.

"No, no, no. Gitahi, wake up," Wangui shook him in panic.

"Are you in my dream? I want to see you again, where are you?" he murmured in confusion. He was delirious.

"The wound is so deep and no medicine has been applied," Njeri uttered with shaky hands. It was as if she didn't have anything else to say as everyone had already seen that.

"Watch him," Wangui pleaded with them.

They noded and helped Gitahi warm up. Wangui rose returned deeper into the forest. She ignored her aching legs. They had to bear with her as she needed to find herbs and roots to treat him. Aloe Vera would help physically for a while but she needed a strong concoction for him to drink and another to clean off the poison lingering on his wound. Ngare followed her as she walked through the forest. She was thankful to the moon for lighting her way. She used her strong sense of smell to her advantage. Then to make it easier, she collected a long dry stick which she used to brush against the leaves as she passed by. Some plants could elicit their scents on touch and she needed some of those plants.

It took her a while to gather all that she needed. She ran back with a pace that her legs could allow. On arrival, she realized that she didn't have somewhere to ground them on. But her mind was quick to think. She took Ndegwa's gourd of animal concoction, poured the remaining amount then broke it and used it as a mortar. She grabbed a strong dry stick and used it to ground them. She did it as fast as she could. When it was ready she poured the porridge-like mixture on the wound. It burned and sizzled the wound making him groan in pain.

Wangui hated to watch but she forced herself to. He needed to get better else she would lose herself. She caressed her palm on his cheek. Another act she had seen Njeri do. It displayed affection. Gitahi leaned into her touch as he forced himself to take in all the pain without groaning. She asked Njeri to ground the other herbs. She did so and once she was done, Wangui made Gitahi drink them. He cursed as they were bitter.

"You'll be okay, now," she told him assuringly.

Gitahi relaxed. He believed in her. His heart would be eternally grateful to have the lady as its owner. Wangui, on the other hand, inwardly thanked her mother for teaching her how to mix herbs. Especially those that would treat the wound of a poisoned arrow or spear. She was always cautious of those as some poison used in them was very lethal.