"Good," she said. "Now for the side wound. Roll slowly back onto your other side and… Your mouth is bleeding. Surely you're losing enough blood from other places without chewing off bits of your lip?"
"I was hungry," said Declan, forcing a smile. "I still am."
"And that's how you're going to stay," she said firmly. "How long is it since you ate anything, not counting the time you spent cold sleeping in the wagon?"
Declan thought for a moment. "At the caravanserai I was too tired to eat," he said, "and I overslept and had to leave quickly to catch up to Bashir's men and so missed breaking my fast. Since then there wasn't a chance to… Please, I'm starving to death."
"That's good," she said looking relieved.
"That's cruel, heartless," he replied. "I tell you, my stomach thinks my throat's been cut… What is that thing?"
"Another device of Ma'el's," she replied. "It resembles the chart except that instead of showing where we are it lets me see what is happening inside your body. Lift yourself, gently now, onto your elbow and look into it. Isn't it wonderful? My father would have sold his soul for a device like this. I may want you to hold it in position if I have to use both hands."
It was a flat, square box more than a hand's length on the side and no thicker than a man's index finger. Instead of a motionless picture the upper surface of the box showed a landscape that seemed to be in regular, twitching motion. Bright and clear at its center was the short length of arrow and barb penetrating his flesh while around and behind it there were many thick and thin lines, which from the operation of Tomas's leg he recognized as veins, and even thicker masses that curled about each other in a wet, slippery tangle.
"It's horrible, disgusting," he said, easing his good side back onto the litter. "My belly looks like it's full of serpents."
"Hopefully they are empty serpents," said Sinead, "and ensuring that they remain that way is what may keep you alive. If the subject doesn't disgust you too much, would you like to know why?"
"Yes," he said. "You talking about it is better than me having to watch it. But why are you always angry with me? I haven't done anything to deserve it, especially not to you."
She hesitated for a moment while looking at him with a strange and very serious expression, and Declan had the feeling that when she spoke the words were not those she had originally intended to say. "You make me angry because you give me so many wounds to treat, and because most of them are yours.
"The snakes inside your belly are in fact a long, continuous tube," she went on before he could reply, "which takes out the good part of the food you eat and allows the poisonous waste that remains to be passed out of your back passage as excrement. The arrowhead made a small cut in this tube and it may have allowed a quantity of the fecal matter to leak and gradually find its way into the rest of your body. If that happened you would die, just the way that young boy shot with a poisoned arrow died on the ship. The fact that you haven't eaten for a long time, and will not be allowed to eat until the cut in the tube is healed, is good because the amount of poison in there should be small.
"Now I'll need both hands for the next part," she added, "so hold the seeing box over the wound, just here. That's it."
Again he gritted his teeth as the arrowhead moved from side to side and was coaxed. The pain eased as he felt but did not see a warm trickle run down and onto his stomach.
"And now," he said through dry lips, "you're letting it bleed clean?"
"No," she said, bending low over him. "This one will need more than that."
Declan felt her fingers pressing and pulling the wound open, then her lips being placed around it and the painful but strange sensation of the blood and he knew not what other poisons being sucked out. After a moment she raised her head, spat onto the ground, and bent over the wound again.
"Wait!" he said urgently. 'That is stupid. If the blood is poisoned you shouldn't be…"
"Stupid yourself," she said angrily, "I'm not stupid enough to swallow it!" She continued the process for what seemed to Declan to be a long time even though the tiny movement of the sun's shadow indicated otherwise, before she straightened up and said, 'That should do it. Any more of that and I'll end up sucking you inside out. I'm going to close and cover the wound now. After what has gone before it won't hurt you much. This has gone well, Declan, but now you must try to ease your mind, cover your body again, and let yourself sleep."
"I don't want to sleep," he said. "I want to talk."
"What about?" she said.
He remained silent until she had finished binding the wound and returned from the pool where she had rinsed out her mouth with cupped handfuls of clear water, washed the blood off her lips, and splashed some of it onto the back of her neck. From the sight of her perspiring face he realized that the sun must be hot even though he himself was just beginning to feel warm.
"About you," he said, "and why, after all you've just done, you're angry with me? You would be nicer to the horse if it had been wounded by arrows."
–
"Yes," she said, "because the horse wouldn't talk back to me. Please change the subject…"
She broke off suddenly to bend over him again, one hand going to his forehead and the other resting lightly on his chest. Muttering to herself, she moved to the opposite end of the litter and lifted it from the ground, unfolding a support that kept it in that position. Declan chose his words carefully and was surprised by his teeth chattering when he spoke.
"I'm not c-calling you stupid," he said, "but what h-healer's reason had you for t-tilting my feet up?"
"Because you're growing cold," she said, "and sweating, and your heart is beating fast but weakly. I was afraid of this happening. Despite your physical strength, the pain and duration of the surgery is sending you into shock. The treatment for shock, which is agreed upon by stupid healers from Hibernia to Cathay, is to elevate the feet so that the blood your heart is able to pump goes to your chest and brain where it is most needed. You must also be kept warm…"
She fell silent because Ma'el, whose hearing must have been very good, arrived beside her carrying another one of his strange, thin, but very warm blankets. She took it from him and draped it over Declan, tucking it around him as if he had been a child close to slumber while being careful not to press it against the underlying wounds. Ma'el spoke as soon as she was finished.
"Will he live?"
Sinead's face was angry, Declan saw, and her eyes were opening and closing rapidly. If he hadn't known her better he would have thought that she was blinking back tears.
"I don't know," she said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Ma'el Report. Day 113,089…
My earlier fears about the effect of revealing Taelon science to the female Sinead have proved groundless. She is both mentally flexible and pragmatic to a high degree, and shows no fear of what she still calls Taelon magic and, even though she cannot understand its workings, she insists that if she is properly instructed in its use there should be nothing for her to fear. Declan is still uneasy about what they refer to as the smaller djinns that land from time to time with information and supplies, but he will not allow himself to show fear when Sinead is so obviously not afraid. The magic Sinead most desires and persistently requests is that which I cannot provide, a means that will enable Declan to recover from his wounds and continue living.