The Sapphire Broach

Chapter 16 (rough draft)

"Kenric!" Ivy tried to contain her scream. She ran to him when he fell to his knees.

He looked down at the arrow protruding from his stomach, then back up at her. His eyes—usually so deep and intense—glazed over and his cheeks paled.

"Kenric!" She looked at his injury and nearly swooned. The arrow stuck out of his stomach in the front and back and a pool of blood spread on his tunic. What was she to do? She could run from soldiers, steal swords back from strangers, and fight off wolves, but she knew not what to do with the arrow piercing Kenric's flesh.

"Ivy," his voice trembled, but his eyes shone clear for a moment. "You have to pull it out."

Her hand flew to her mouth and she felt her head shake. She couldn't do it. She couldn't . . .

He grabbed her arm and gripped it hard. "You—have—to." Then he groaned and pitched forward.

Ivy caught him and staggered as his full weight fell on her. She eased him down on his side. He groaned and his body began to shake.

She wiped at her nose and then realized her hand was covered in blood—his blood. He was hurt, really hurt, and she had to help. She had to.

"Tell me what to do."

He did not move and she feared he had lost consciousness, then his eyes blinked open again. "There is . . ." he breathed ". . . knife in belt. Cut . . . tip off arrow . . . pull it out . . . stop the blood."

Ivy took a deep breath, then felt around Kenric's belt and located his knife. She held it out toward him, then grasped the arrow in her other hand. Her fingers slipped on the blood and she couldn't hold it steady. She took her skirt in her hand and wrapped it around the arrow, then positioned the knife and worked it back and forth to saw off the tip.

Despite her efforts to hold it steady, Kenric moaned and writhed. Bits of wood flaked off the arrow. Blood soaked through her dress and she felt the warm stickiness.

"Come on!" she pleaded to the knife.

Finally the arrow tip snapped off. She brushed jagged bits of wood away, then placed a bracing hand against Kenric's back. "I'm going to pull it out now, Kenric."

His eyes were closed, but he nodded.

"On three." She closed her own eyes and struggled to hold on to the courage she had somehow mustered. "One . . . two . . . three."

She pulled with all her might, fast, before she could think through what she was really doing. Kenric screamed. His body arched, then slumped and stilled. Blood poured from the wound. With nothing else to use, she gathered a bit of her skirt in each hand and pressed it firmly against his stomach and back, but she had to find something more permanent.

A glance around revealed Kenric's pack that had fallen in the dirt. She released him, raced to it, and dug through. A deep red stained everything she touched. Finally she found one of their cloaks, and hurried back.

She ripped his tunic off and tore it in pieces, then pressed the pieces against his wound. She folded the cloak the long way and did her best to tuck it under him. Then she rolled him to the center of it, draped it across his stomach and tied it as tight as she could to hold the pieces of tunic in place.

Sweat rolled down her face and she wiped it away. He had lost so much blood and she knew he couldn't stay there. What could she do with him? He needed to be somewhere comfortable and warm. He needed a physician.

"Come on, Kenric. We have to get you somewhere else."

She stepped around him, grabbed under his armpits, and pulled.

He didn't budge. She lifted him enough to get her arms beneath and around him. Then she stepped backward and managed to drag him several paces before she slipped and fell onto her back with his unconscious weight on top of her.

For a moment she remained there and gazed up at the sky above the canopy of trees. It looked so clear and blue compared to the red blood that covered the two of them. She closed her eyes. She needed help, but there was no one there to give it.

She pushed against Kenric and freed herself. Perhaps if she got a firmer grip on him she could better move him. So she lifted him to a sitting position, wrapped her arms around his chest from behind, and tugged with all the strength she could muster. This time she dragged him quite a few steps, then several more. She nearly cried at her small success.

Her arms burned with the weight and she felt herself slow down. No! She had to keep going!

A great growl came from somewhere inside her and she pushed herself on, willing her body to not give in to its weakness. Another few paces, then several more. Lights flashed at the edges of her vision and she felt dizzy. Then she fell.

"Help!" she cried out, unable to move. Her body felt numb from bearing his weight and her energy was spent. "Please, help me!"

She blinked back her emotions and tried to move out from under him again. When she finally made it out, she examined him. His face was pale, his lips gray, and blood soaked through his ripped tunic and the cloak she had wound around him.

"Forgive me, Kenric." She fell forward onto his chest. "I never meant for you to get hurt." And then the tears came, hot ones that stung her cheeks and fell onto Kenric's shoulder. She stayed there, unable to move until she heard a sound in the distance.

She sat up and listened. The clopping of hoofs sounded distantly, but unmistakably. Her blood turned chill. It had to be the soldiers! She had probably made too much noise while she dragged Kenric. If they were found, would the soldiers help him, or leave him for dead? She knew not, but dared not risk it.

The clopping drew near. She pulled Kenric's body to her and held him against her to protect him. She forgot her exhaustion in her concern. Her muscles tensed, ready to attack anyone who tried to hurt him.

A horse whinnied and the clopping stopped.

Ivy released Kenric and stood to meet her foe.