The Twice-Enchanted Blade: Part 15

It was a stroke of luck in a desperate situation that the birds, now that we weren’t trying to scale the tree anymore, lost any interest in us. Having to deal with a sick woman in the middle of a swamp, with barely any knowledge of medicine, was difficult enough; doing the same while under attack would’ve been downright impossible.

I managed to find a hollow bit in the giant trunk, looking like a small cave, almost, and decided to set up camp there. The tree was damp enough, and the ceiling high enough, that I was fairly certain I could build a small fire there without it spreading. That task proved to be as difficult as I had dreaded, and it took me nearly an hour to accomplish it. Now that I had a fire, no matter how pathetic it was, I could finally take a look at Annabel.

She had a terrible fever and was drifting in and out of consciousness. In all honesty, it shouldn’t have been surprising that she got sick. We were marching through the swamp for days at as brisk a pace as we could, spending the entire time completely soaked. That would’ve been reasonably exhausting on its own, and I can only thank my artificial body’s unusual fortitude for the fact that I was no worse for wear. Then, on top of that, Annabel was using magic extensively throughout the journey, from the multi-familiar maneuver to maintaining the guiding light for hours upon hours to a prolonged battle against the birds. The injuries she sustained in the fight, while not too bad on their own, couldn’t have helped matters.

My first order of business was to get her as dry as humanly possible. I changed her into the driest robe we had in our baggage and placed her next to the fire. The next thing to do was to deal with the wounds. They were shallow, and by now weren’t bleeding much, but it would be disastrous if they got infected while Annabel was in this condition. To that end, I cut some of our clothing into ribbons, washed them in a pot of hot water I had started heating as soon as I got the fire going, then dried them above the flames. I washed her wounds with the hot water, applied some ointment I found in our medical supplies (I still don’t know what it did exactly, but to my panicked mind it seemed a good idea at the time), then bandaged her.

There wasn’t much more I could do for her immediately, so I went outside to pick up, pluck, and butcher one of the birds that had been killed during our fight. I set the meat in a pot of water, bringing it to a boil. While waiting for the soup to be prepared, I finally treated my own injuries. When the dish was ready, I attempted to feed her with limited success, then had dinner myself.

I don’t know how many mistakes I made during my treatment, but none of them turned out to be fatal, and the next morning, Annabel’s fever was not quite as bad, and she was once again lucid.

“I feel like I’m going to die”, she remarked after waking up.

“You should’ve seen yourself yesterday then”, I replied, “Could you tell me which of the herbs in your backpack would make you feel better?”

Throughout the day, she had soup and herbal tea, and by the evening, she was strong enough to have some of the meat, and a bit of hardtack I pounded into as fine a powder as possible and mixed into the soup. The next day, she could briefly get out of bed, and the day after, she was able to walk.

After much deliberation, we decided it was time to leave. Annabel wasn’t yet fully recovered, but in the swamp’s unhealthy climate, her getting better and relapsing were both equal possibilities. In the long run, getting out of the marshland as soon as possible was the best option.

We headed roughly east, with me carrying Annabel on my back a good chunk of the way. Initially, I feared we would once again get lost, since while I was beset by illusions, I didn’t mark any trees as I used to. Thankfully, I found one of the familiar markings in due time, and we weren’t accosted by hallucinations on our return journey, so things went for the most part smoothly.

Annabel toughed it out remarkably well, and her condition didn’t deteriorate. As soon as we left the swamp, I began looking for a good camping spot, and within a few hours decided on an isolated rock formation. We rested here, finally in dry conditions, for two full days, during which the sorceress completely regained her strength.

During this period, I searched the surrounding area, trying to find the rhinoceros we had left. I had no particular hope I would succeed, but I had nothing better to do. On the second day, it found me instead. It seemed way too happy to see me, especially since it was we who brought it to this strange land and got one of its kind killed. Perhaps it was just glad to see a familiar face. Whatever the case, it ran out of a thicket and began jogging playfully around me, its behavior appropriate more for a puppy than a ton-and-a-half beast. It followed me back to the camp, and the rest of our journey was made that much easier.

Nothing of note happened during the rest of the return trip. We came back to Bele Wode around sunset and realized we came last. The other two groups had already returned days before, and were debating whether to send a rescue party to look for us at the moment we entered the village.

They were glad to see us alive and well, and gladder still, we managed to complete our quest. In spite of our friends’ insistence, we retired for the evening almost immediately, and they had to wait until tomorrow night for all of us to gather around the fire and exchange stories of our adventure.