[maikafanawen]

The wild men retreated and Annanoldowen told Herebrand and Ohtaredan to take Annunfuin and Laurel to the nearest chambers and bar the doors. Annanoldowen retrieved her bags of herbs and went to work strait away, first on Laurel whose wounds were deeper and more serious. After thoroughly cleaning the wounds, the elf produced her mortar and pestle and began to grind up sufficient amounts of yarrow. When it was a fine mustard coloured powder at the bottom of the mortar, Annanoldowen added aloe, other minor herbs and a combination of liquids making a gritty paste. This she applied by wrapping it in a gauze material and laying it gently over the wounds, securing it with bandages.

“Any other patient would need plenty of rest and the bandages to be re-applied every two hours. However, since our situation doesn’t allow it, I will do all I can so that she will be able to do the essential activities, though a bit slowly, in a matter of hours. But it is necessary that I have no one else in the room.” Nodding, the room was cleared, except for Taralphiel whom Annanoldowen was not foolish enough to send away, and Annunfuin who lay unconscious on the parallel bed.

Laurel would be fine for now so Annanoldowen let her lie for a moment as she went to tend to Annunfuin. The man had a wound that was growing blacker by the minute on his right thigh. The elf had to work fast. She ground up an ample amount of Horehound, Sage, and St. John’s Wort working fast to put it on the wound and on other parts of the body that appeared to be infected.

“I’m going to need some wine,” she told Taralphiel who was cooling Laurel’s brow with a wet cloth. The Swan Lady gave Annanoldowen’s request to a maid hovering outside the door and a bottle of dorwinion wine plus two chalices were delivered. In one Annanoldowen mixed Valerian and St. John’s Wort. Using a special plant she revived Annunfuin for a moment to have him drink the potion. Then the Valerian kicked in and he was asleep again, this time more peacefully. In the other Annanoldowen readied Valerian and wine for Laurel to drink after she was revived and ready to sleep again.

The next half hour was spent diligently working on the difficult process of healing the Swan Lady’s granddaughter. When Taralphiel opened the door, allowing Herebrand, Ohtaredan, and Rudhchamion to enter, Laurel was able to speak in hushed, choked tones, and Annanoldowen looked very tired.

“She needs to begin working on her sleep. The wine will help her do so. When she wakes again she will be very nearly cured. I have treated Annunfuin’s poison wound and given him some sedatives. It will take much longer for him to heal, if at all.” The elf’s face was grave and her blue eyes were drained. Now,” she said, sighing and gesturing towards Laurel and her grandmother, “say what you must and we’ll leave ye to sleep for a bit.”

***

Gita raced back towards camp arriving at the King’s tent. She burst in, shoving the canvas flap aside.

“Gita!” acknowledged the king, who was seated in his makeshift throne, opposite the man Gita had taken prisoner. “Well done my lady, well done.” His expression changed from his friendly manner towards Gita back to his firm, commanding expression as he faced Cartil. “NOW!” he bellowed. “You were just saying that you will help us get the Swan Lady.” Cartil’s face, set and determined shook his head.

“I would die first.” Amused, Gita took a seat beside the king, and sat cross-legged on the furry animal pelts, her grey-black eyes twinkling.