Cora breathed slowly. Her leg itched. She squirmed against the restraints. The broken skin flexed around the discontinuity. She let her eyes unfocus against the dots of light in the burlap. It shattered into fractals and reformed in different patterns.
The door clicked and opened. Her eyes focused.
What will they try now?
A soft, comforting voice from a young man. “How are you feeling?”
Nice, some pampering. At least it’s pleasant.
Gentle hands lifted the sack from her head. He trembled, lifting it over her nose and disentangling her hair.
She shook her head and looked at the arrival. Handsome, fit, clean uniform. A tray of food and a medical bag lay at his feet and he stepped back.
He sat down the cloth and said, “I have to get a basin. I’ll be right back. But I’ll untie you first.” He smiled and began working on the knots.
They are going to leave me here unbound? That’s new.
“There we are!” The last knot came loose. “You can get up and try some stretches. I want to get those wounds clean and bandaged, first, though.” He turned his back to her and walked out the open door without closing it.
She moved her arms to her front and started massaging her wrists. The cell was dim, with a single grate in the ceiling letting in daylight. Gray stone, the single chair. She stood.
Voices carried in low whispers through the open door.
Do they think I’m going to run like an animal?
The officer returned with a bowl of foamy water in one hand and clean linen in the other. He grinned. “I see you’re up.”
She looked down at her dirty, ripped clothes before standing on tiptoe, flexing her calves.
No significant damage.
“If you want to sit back down, I’ll clean those injuries you sustained.” He gestured with the linen.
Cora twisted her mouth. She sat down.
He said, “I’m a medic. There has been a lot of work lately.” He dunked the linen in the water and wrung it out over her thigh. The smell of soap wafted over her.
Cora sighed and thought What do they even tell these people?
“I wish I could do something for your hair. We all must focus on what we can.”
Truer words were never spoken.
He set the linen on her skin. “This may sting a little.” The man began to scrub with the cloth.
She closed her eyes and breathed slowly, feeling her heart and the lip of broken flesh.
He rinsed it again. “I think perhaps stitches.” He tried to make eye contact. Cora’s eyes were unfocused. “What do you think?”
I think an infection would get me into an infirmary.
“They warned me you weren’t very talkative. That’s fine with me. Better than complaining.” He moved to the bag on the floor and revealed a needle and thread. “This really is going to sting.”
Cora raised her eyebrows for a moment. She watched him strike a flame on a tinkerer’s fire stick. He held the flame under the needle, back and forth. “These are so convenient. Have you ever met a tinker?”
She gave a wry smile.
“They make all sorts of useful things. I’ve heard they even make weapons sometimes.”
I bet you have. On top of a tower in Terndowns, perhaps?
He threaded the needle and she watched without moving. He placed the tip over the edge of the cut. “Deep breath now.”
She held her breath.
His movements were quick and practiced.
A man who has sewn a lot of legs shut.
It did not take long. The wound on her thigh was the deepest. The others did not need stitches.
“All done. Now let’s clean these calves and you can get something to eat.”
Her stomach broke her silence. It had been two days since they had given her water. Three since food. She did not move. The smell of the tray made her head spin.
He stood, and said, “It could have been a lot worse. They are talking about taking your fingers.”
She let out a huff of a laugh. Her eyes unfocused on the wall in front of her as she waited.
Bending, he scooped up the tray and handed it to her. “They told me to tie you back up, but I think that you could use the exercise. Try to walk around, but not too much. There is watered wine in the pitcher.” He winked.
She made eye contact for the first time and winked back.