Twelve Lies I Told Shingen Takeda

Chapter 29: Bitter

Always sick?

What did he mean by that? Was this what had worried Yukimura so much that he'd sent me all the way upriver to check on Shingen? To beg him to get out of the storm?

Sure, I'd heard him cough before – but coughing is so common in any era that it becomes nothing more than background noise... unless you're listening for it... unless suddenly the sound of the cough signals something dark, something that you'd never imagined. Until that morning in the cave when I held Shingen to me while his throat and lungs fought for air, I hadn't thought anything of a cough. I hadn't put that together with those meals when he pushed away full plates of food, or those conversations when he'd make a comment about not having enough time.

Always sick.

It wasn't the right moment to question him further – the urgent issue was his fever. I found a waterskin amongst his things and lightly shook it. Thankfully, it still had some water in it. "Water?" He gave a slight nod, but didn't reach for it, as if moving his head had depleted what little energy he had. I held it up to his mouth. He swallowed a little, spilling some on himself, while I basically babbled in the face of my growing panic. "It stopped raining, and while it probably sounds like the last thing you want to do, can you manage to get onto Good Horse? I'll figure out a way to get us back to the castle."

"I'm not so sick that I can't mount my own horse," he muttered. "Or anything else." But since he closed his eyes again and didn't even attempt to move from his place against the wall, it clearly wasn't true.

Briefly, I considered running back to the castle and returning with Yukimura or even Yoshimoto. To do that, though, I would have to leave Shingen sick and alone in here.... No, I couldn't abandon him for that long. I wouldn't. Besides, any time that I saved by running to find help, I'd lose in the round trip.

Feeling helpless, I took some of the water, poured it on my sleeve, and wiped his face – nurses always wipe down sick people in movies (not that that means anything... maybe it just looks cinematic when they do that?), and I wanted to be able to do something.

I regretted losing my pack in the river – I always carried some of Fume's Willow Bark tea for my monthly cramps. Fume swore by the medicinal properties of willow bark and had dispensed it for everything from Takauji's broken arm to her own stress-induced migraines. I'd certainly harvested enough willow bark for her supplies to know how often she used it.

Well... hell. I didn't need willow bark tea – just willow bark. This close to the river, there should be plenty of willow trees around. Fresh bark would probably be stronger than tea anyway.

"I'll be right back." I finished wrapping my still-damp clothing around me. "Don't go anywhere."

"Wouldn't think of it," he said as he peered at me through half-closed eyes.

I covered him with the furs and dashed off, in search of a willow tree. The chorus of 'always sick' stuck in my mind on endless repeat. Was this something chronic... or... no I couldn't dwell on that right now. One task at a time. Fever now. Worry spiral later.

Pine...

Pine...

Maple...

Larch...

I don't know what that one is, but not willow...

Pine...

About a kilometer from the cave, I found a willow tree and carved off several strips of bark. "Sorry, tree." I patted it gently, then hurried back to Shingen.