Warlock Apprentice, Black Lake Novel 4

Chapter Fifty

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The wound was shallow enough not to be life threatenin’, but it would require more than a bandage to stop the bleedin’. Needed to be stitched, and soon. I had a needle and thread in my kit, which was strapped to the back of my saddle, winched tight to the back of a mare, prolly halfway home. That wasn’t gonna help.

The wizard’s estate— But by the glow in the sky last night, there wasn’t gonna be anythin’ left of the place.

“I smell those grindin’ gears in yar little brain again,” Louisa said. “Why don’t ya close yar mouth?”

Blister-face, who had been rockin’ back and forth, passed out. His companions’ eyes twisted toward him, but Louisa and I ignored the wizard. I felt a little guilty, but was more concerned about Louisa. Her wound was as much Blister-face’s fault as his friend who held the sword.

“They’re gettin’ a little heavy,” Louisa mumbled.

I jerked to my feet, hurried to free them of any other weapons they might have. Each wore two blades, a fat huntin’ and a narrow stabbin’ knife like those Selene carried. Must be a Northern thin’.

“Sit and behave,” Louisa warned, lettin’ them drop to the ground.

They glared. Prolly hadn’t been ordered about in a long time. Louisa growled, that rockslide ogres manage in their chest. They squatted down quickly, but one asked if he could see to their friend. I freed Blister-face’s two knives before I gave them a nod.

I dumped all the swords and blades into a pile ten feet away, as an alternative struck me, an old fashioned remedy for Louisa’s wound I’d heard of, but had never seen applied.

“Ya see any purple ants scurryin’ around?” I squinted at the shadowed ground. The evil little, thumb-sized beasties are common enough in the Range. Maybe I could find some here.

“Oh, I hate those thin’s,” Louisa said. “I think I know what ya’re thinkin’, and I don’t like it.”

“Better than bleedin’ to death, ain’t it?”

“What about Lord—” one of the men said.

But Louisa’s glare shut the man up. I drew my own knife and sawed off the lower-right front of my vest, stood on my tiptoes to press it against Louisa’s wound.

“Ouch,” she complained.

This from the hen who snapped a wizard in half seconds after bein’ leveled by the man’s bolt. “I’m sure its sheer agony,” I mumbled. “Hold that tight.”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” I shot back at her as I walked into the woods searchin’ for an ant nest.

Found one without much effort, picked off a couple workers very carefully, and ran back. Tears actually welled in the hen’s eyes when she realized I held the beasties. I almost laughed. After what we’d been through?

“Sit down, will ya?” I told her.

She grumbled under her breath, but plopped down a few steps away from our three guests. Somehow I kept a stoic front, at least I hope I did, as I struggled to control the ants wrestling in my hands. Finally got one in position, and the beastie clamped down, its pinchers pullin’ together the sliced flesh.

“Oh, that stings. That stings.”

“Shut up,” I mumbled under my breath.

“Don’t ya dare—”

“Ya want my help? Shut up. I’m not enjoyin’ this either.” I managed to cleave the ant away from his claws. Poor little guy.

“Ya’re a mean one. All humans like ya?”

“I’m one of the friendlier ones.” I applied another, and cleaved the ant’s head off, threw the body as far away as I could, and ran back for another six-legged suture. Ten minutes later there was no blood flowin’ from Louisa’s throat, and the poison from the ants already drew healin’ pus to the wound. Tears flowed freely down the poor hen’s cheeks, but she remained still.

Prolly the last time I’d ever see an ogre cry. I told myself to set aside that image, for it would have to last. Had only managed to get bit once by the purple buggers. My whole hand throbbed from it. Could appreciate the pain she had to be in. I took in my handy work, a ghoulish necklace if there ever was.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I don’t know what else we could have done.”

“I hate ya,” she hissed. “I’m gettin’ a wee dizzy. I may kill ya before I pass out.”

For the moment I was glad to be privy to her real emotions, though I never believed for a moment she hated me.

“Morgan can fix ya up soon enough,” I said.

“What?”

“Oh. Maybe I didn’t mention. His gift, majic gift, is healin’.”

Her emotions turned, as did her expression. “Then why did I have to go through this!” She pointed a shakin’ finger at her blood-coated, purple-beaded necklace.

“I don’t know how long it will take for him to find us,” I said.

“You lied?” the non-wizard of the three screeched. “You can’t sense them!”

My face prickled from the emotions emanatin’ from our wakeful guests. I turned on them and glared. “I can too. He and the others are just too far away still, to get a better location.” I turned back to Louisa. “Now I know ya aren’t gonna bleed to death, I’ll go fetch him. Okay?”

“What are ya waitin’ for?” she asked.

“Ya gonna be all right with them?” She wouldn’t be able to anticipate them reachin’ for the ethereal.

“I managed two of ’em well enough before.” She growled.

Ogres and their growlin’. She had a point. Though I hadn’t been in a state to witness how she ever dealt with them after my un-neighborly jolt. But if she was confident, how could I argue leavin’ her alone with them?

“Fine!” I glared at the conscious wizard and his companion, in warnin’.

“Fine!” Louisa answered.

I collected a sword for her, even if she didn’t think she needed it, before joggin’ away. Prayed I headed in the right direction. Not sure who I prayed to—thin’s are gettin’ mixed in my head these days.

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