The Green Witch

Chapter Twenty Three

     Tala jumped away from Gareth before he could plunge the knife into her back, perhaps remembering that you weren't supposed to fear death if you believed in an afterlife and that God might look favourably on him if he killed a witch before dying. Gareth's faith apparently wasn't that strong, though, because he held out the knife to her with trembling, bloodstained fingers. Tala thought for a moment about just running away before the Crone could find her again, but she couldn't leave an injured man. It just wasn't in her to do it. She took the knife, therefore, and began cutting the robe into strips.

     She then helped Gareth to take off his shirt of chain mail. "Lot of good this thing did you," she said, looking at the broken rings where the weapon had punched right through. "I thought these things were supposed to stop knives and swords."

     "The knife was pointed," Gareth replied as Tala then helped him remove his padded undershirt. "Chain mail is designed to stop slashing blows but a thrust from a pointed weapon will get through. All the force is taken by just a couple of rings, you see, and they break. It doesn't help when the treasurer is too stingy to buy good quality armour. I suppose they think witches aren't going to fight back."

     Tala smiled with bitter amusement. "No, I suppose you don't need the best armour for victimising women and girls." She examined the wound. Narrow and deep, but so far as she could tell it had gone in at an angle. If it had missed his vitals he might live if she could stop the bleeding and prevent infection. She rolled one of the makeshift bandages into a ball and told Gareth to hold it in place while she wrapped the other around his body. She tied it as tightly as she could so that the ball was putting pressure on the injury.

     "The women and girls are witches," Gareth pointed out. "They might not fight with swords and daggers but they hurt people in other ways."

     "Because they're evil," said Tala.

     "Right."

     "Is that why I'm doing this? Because I'm evil?"

     "Because you need my protection. One of those men is still alive."

     "You're not much use for protection in your present state."

     "Give me a few minutes to regained my strength..."

     "You idiot," said Tala. "You do anything energetic before I've cauterised that wound and you'll start bleeding again. You'll be dead before he gets the chance to stab you. You got a flint and steel?"

     "The pouch on my belt."

     Tala opened the pouch and found a firestarting kit. She put a small pile of tinder on the ground and began making sparks with the flint and steel. "So what happened in there?" she asked. "Is the witch dead?"

     "She ran off the same time you did. I don't know where she went."

     "But you killed one of the men?"

     "The older one, yes. Unfortunately the son got me the same time I got the father. I'm assuming they were father and son anyway. They looked similar."

     "They were, yes. And now he's going to be coming after you for killing his dad."

     Gareth nodded. "So where is he?" he asked, glancing around into the forest.

     "Probably guarding the Crone while she recovers," Tala replied, still striking sparks. It had been a long time since she'd done this and she was out of practice. "She was exhausted. Probably needs to sleep to get her strength back. I'm guessing she told Bronn to watch over her while she's unable to defend herself."