They lay spent beside each other, Willow reaching out to take his hand only to meet him reaching out to take hers.
After a few minutes, Slatter pulled the warm wool blanket over them and Willow settled comfortably against him, her eyes growing heavy. A light snore came from her husband and she smiled, content. As she drifted off she recalled that she hadn’t told him about the Slayer or seeing Walcott up and about so late or about the cloaked figure she thought had entered the keep. Tomorrow she would tell her husband all that had happened and he could talk with Walcott and see if he had seen anyone lurking about.
Chapter 21
Willow woke to a pounding, not in her head, but at the door.
Slatter was already out of bed and slipping his garments on, the voice at the door frantic.
“Wake up! Wake up!
Willow hurried out of bed as well and into her garments with haste, the fright in Eleanor’s voice all too real, and a shiver ran through her.
Slatter yanked open the door.
Eleanor looked as pale as freshly fallen snow. “It’s your friend Walcott. Someone has hurt him badly.”
“Where is he?”
“The cottage he stayed in last night,” Eleanor said tears threatening her eyes.
Slatter turned to his wife.
“I’ll gather what I need to help him and meet you there,” Willow said, knowing without her husband saying what he wanted from her.
He nodded and rushed past Eleanor.
Willow went to follow and Eleanor grabbed her arm. “He’s hurt bad, too many stab wounds.”
Willow paled herself, recalling last night and how Walcott had warned her of the danger that lurked in the dark. It had found him.
“Get Snow, tell her how bad Walcott has been hurt and that I’ve gone to tend him. She’ll know what to gather together to help me. Then help her bring it to me,” Willow ordered. “And see that Carna stays with Sara.”
Eleanor nodded and took off and Willow rushed off after her husband.
She stopped and retrieved her healing basket from where she had left it last night and gathered more herbs and anything else she thought she might need from the small room off the kitchen where she dried and stored the healing herbs and plants.
The snow had stopped, leaving a bitter wind to whip it around and enough on the ground to reach just below her ankle. She tucked her cloak tight against her to keep it from flailing around her, and she kept her head down to keep the cold wind from nipping at her face. She jumped when a solid arm suddenly caught around her.
“I should have waited for you,” Slatter said, drawing her tightly against his side. “I don’t want you out here alone day or night.”
Willow shivered, not from the cold, but from what his remark had implied. The attack on Walcott had to be bad for him to leave the man’s side and come after her, worried for her safety. She also noticed several of Tarass and Ruddock’s warriors nearby and how they followed close as she and Slatter continued to the cottage.
James was in the cottage when they entered and when his eyes caught hers, he shook his head.
Willow hurried to Walcott and saw his chest was covered with blood as well as the blanket beneath him. He was still breathing and it wasn’t a shallow breath so death was not near yet.
She rid herself of her cloak, placed her basket on the table and looked from James to her husband. “My sister and Eleanor gather what I need, please help them make their way here and then leave me to this. It will do me no good to have either of you hovering over me.”
“I’ll see they get here safely,” Slatter said, “then I’ll wait outside for you.”
There was no point in telling him to wait in the warmth of the keep. He’d wait outside not only to see how Walcott did, but to see her kept safe.
Willow worked diligently on Walcott, wishing he would wake and spew his usual grumpy complaints. But she feared he might never wake. Several slash marks on his arms indicated that he had tried to protect himself from the attacker’s knife. Two chest stabs wounds were not deep and if it were not for the two others that were, Walcott could very well survive. But two wounds were close to areas that her mum had explained more often than not proved deadly.
She did know stopping the bleeding was most important and keeping the wounds from festering was of the utmost importance. She feared it would be a difficult fight for Walcott and one she didn’t know if he could win.
Snow lent support whatever way she could, whether it was encouraging her sister or seeing that water was kept hot at the hearth. Eleanor was of great help, assisting her to cut away Walcott’s bloody shirt and get him cleaned up and settled in a clean bed.