‘No wound on her back, which means the shot did not go clean through,’ he tutted. ‘A shame, for that would make my task easier by far. There would just be suppuration to worry about.’ He turned to Bryce. ‘Hold the torch higher, damn you,’ he snapped. ‘After forcing me here at swordpoint, the least you can do is give me light to work by, you fool.’
Bryce brought the torch closer. ‘Forgive the rough handling, Mr Tapper, but urgency was all, and you will be well-compensated for saving her.’
‘And if I don’t save her?’ said the man with a sneer. ‘To be kidnapped by ruffians and have to work in this squalor is insupportable.’
The mess of blood oozing from Tara’s wound made Callum wince. ‘We feared moving her with the wound, and she was losing so much blood,’ he said.
‘Aye, an intelligent choice, and the first of the day, I would imagine, but this place is not ideal. What on earth you two did to bring the lass to this fate, heaven only knows, but this is a shameful affair, to be sure? Now clean off the table over there, and we will lift her gently onto it. I will have to go in and extract the ball at once.’
‘Now, in almost darkness!’ exclaimed Bryce.
‘If you hold the light properly, it will not be dark, and the shot cannot remain there, for it will be painful, and she will continue bleeding. No, it must be plucked out as soon as may be.’
‘But you can do it?’ said Callum, grabbing the man’s jacket. ‘You must.’
Bryce’s hand on his arm steadied him. ‘Calm yourself. I am sure Mr Tapper is an excellent physician.’
‘I am mediocre at best, but I’ve repaired many shot wounds like this sustained by ruffians like you,’ said the physician. ‘I could do it in my sleep. Though this will require more delicacy than usual, else the lass will scar and spoil her beauty.’
‘I care not about scarring or beauty. I care that my wife lives, you horse’s arse,’ said Callum, longing to slam a fist into the irritating little man, but Bryce put a hand to his chest.
‘He will do what is necessary, and Tara will be well again. Now you must go and take some rest before you fall over, my friend. I will stay with Tara.’
‘No. I will not leave, and I will not sleep until she is well.’
‘Alright. But sit, at least,’ said Bryce.
The physician withdrew a long metal pincer from his bag and held it up to the torch. He narrowed his eyes in Callum’s direction and said to Bryce, ‘Must I work with him glaring at me. I need a steady hand, and that one’s murderous breath on the back of my neck will not aid that.’
‘No. I stay,’ growled Callum. ‘And you will steady your hand or suffer the consequences.’
‘No, you two must get out of my way. Send one of your men to hold this torch and fetch another, so I have more light. And find whisky, if you please.’
‘What for?’ said Bryce.
‘Never you mind, just fetch it.’
‘You will not put your drunken hands on her,’ said Callum.
‘The whisky is to clean my instruments, you fool, unless you want me to probe about in there with dirty pincers? Well, do you?’ said Mr Tapper angrily.
***
‘Have a wee dram. I found more than one source of whisky,’ said Bryce.
Callum let the whisky burn his throat, rousing him a little. He was dead on his feet. Every muscle in his body ached, but he would not succumb to exhaustion. ‘It should never have come to this, Bryce. I should have protected her, and now to see Tara like this. This waiting is more than I can bear.’
‘She will pull through. The lass is stronger than she looks. All women are this way.’
‘If you say so. At least the Baron is dead. He has paid for his crimes against me and others.’
Bryce looked down at his feet and sighed. ‘Callum, I was able to extract some information from one or two of the men more subject to persuasion.’
‘Persuasion?’
‘You know what I mean. Do I have to say it aloud? It took a while, for they were more frightened of their master than swinging at the end of a rope. What I did glean was this. That man you skewered was named Stalker. Don’t know his first name, for they say he never used one, and he was a villain of the first order, a ruthless, murdering bastard. But he was not the Baron. Word has it that he sailed north a few days ago, to Durness. So it seems we have cleared out one rat’s nest only for the biggest rat to have taken refuge in another.’
‘God’s blood,’ cursed Callum through clenched teeth. ‘Durness is a law unto itself, Bryce. We cannot pursue him there, or we will likely be lynched.’