Midnight Flight

Chapter 5

'Ow ow ow!'

'Sorry,' Philip winced as he examined the girl's bloodied left foot. It was glistening crimson, with a few shards of green glass emerged in the sole.

'It looks pretty bad- you should it cleaned up.' He smiled at the girl in amusement at the words, that she'd spoken to him only a few moments ago.

'Is there somewhere nearby where you can get it cleaned? An apothecary or something?'

The girl gave him a doubtful look at the word 'apothecary'.

'My house is quite near, but I don't think I can make it with my foot.'

Philip pondered for a moment. He was a bit of a mess himself, and wanted a clean up, but felt indebted to this pauper girl, and guilty for smashing the bottle that had injured her.

'I'll help you to get there'

She gazed up at him, from her crouched position. Suspicion passed across her face, but was quicky quelled by a look of pain.

'Okay. Thank you.' Her answer was quiet, her face solemn.

'Right.' Philip hesitated before crouching down to her level. He took a breath, before sliding his arm around her back, and his other under her legs.

'Thank you.' She repeated, averting her eyes from his face as he heaved her upwards.

She hung awkwardly in his arms, her hands clasped in front of her.

'You'd better put your arms around my neck,' Philip instructed, trying to ignore the close proximity of the girl's face to his.

She obeyed, her hands now gripped behind his back. She let out a shaky breath, which Philip felt flutter onto his cheek.

'Which way?' He asked

'Straight ahead'

Philip started forward, the glass on the ground crunching under his hefty boots. The girl tightened her grip around his neck, and let out a light groan of pain. Philip mumbled some quiet words of apology as he walked, still feeling responsible for her injury.

'Left'

As he turned sharply, the girl's foot swung round, hitting him lightly in the side. She yelped, her grip becoming vice-like, and buried her head in Philip's chest.

'Right'

Philip felt the girl's breath on his front, and wondered if she could hear his hammering heartbeat.

After several more whispered instructions, they reached a small, ramshackle house made of wood and stones. The roof was thatched, and there was a small oak doorway at the front.

'We're here,' the girl whispered, 'go straight in.'

Philip pushed open the door with his back, before turning to enter. In this time, he was overwhelmed with smells- wood and smoke, fire and bread.

Inside was a medium-sized main room. It was roughly square, with a fire blazing along the far side, and shelves along the left as well as a small door. The right side had mattresses made of straw laid along it, and in the centre was a rounded table with small wooden stools spread around.

There were also a few people in the room.

By the fire, a figure was crouched, stirring a large colander that was hung over it. There was another person on one of the straw mattresses who was curled up and appeared to be asleep. Another was sat on a small stool, bent over something on the table.

As soon as they entered, the person on the stool turned and stood up.

'Awel!' The girl rushed over, clasping the girl in Philips' arms by the face. 'What happened?'

The person by the fire was now stood at the table, frantically clearing cups and fabrics off it.

'Over here- on the table.' It was a woman's voice, and the words were spoken with authority. Philip obeyed, stepping towards the centre of the room, and the girl who'd been fussing over Awel moved to the side.

Carefully, Philip laid Awel on top of the table, making sure her injured foot didn't get jostled too much. The woman by the table placed a tunic under Awel's head as a pillow, then turned to look the girl, who was examining Awel's foot.

'Ruth, get me the blue jar by the fireplace, and a towel.' she barked the command and the girl complied quickly.

'And you-' Philip looked up to meet the piercing gaze of the woman, 'Get water from the well to fill the kettle, then hang it over the fire.'

Hesitating, Philip looked down at Awel's pain-contorted face.

What am I doing here? He thought, I should be at an inn, cleaning up. I need to get back to the palace before sunrise.

'Quickly!' the the girl hissed, 'the bucket's by the door.'

Taking in a breath, Philip made his decision.