Have Faith

Chapter 22

"As to diseases, make a habit of two things — to help, or at least, to do no harm." Hippocrates

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Chapter Twenty – Two

"Do you have a strong stomach, ma'am?" asked Mr Kelly.

Faith nodded, not moving her hands from Cassian's chest wound. Her hands and her cuffs were now red with blood as well. It was warm and wet, and utterly vile, but she could handle anything so long as this stupid, brave man survived.

"I need to stop this bleeding long enough to get him to a surgeon. I will need your help." Mr Kelly spoke in a low, calm voice. It was almost startling.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked desperately.

"The swords," he motioned to the set of fencing swords that had been brought down as possible duelling weapons. "Fetch me one, now."

"But I cannot move my hands!" protested Faith. If she moved her hands, blood would flow more freely.

"Now!" urged Mr Kelly forcefully.

Faith regretfully abandoned Cassian's side and raced over to where the servants had assembled the refreshments. The fencing swords were lying in a similarly ornate box.

"Aunt Anne, can I help?" asked Olivia softly. Olivia was nervously standing beside a tray of untouched pastries. Her face was ashen. She was in shock.

But Faith had no time for sympathy, no matter how she would have liked to have comforted the girl. "Stay away from it, Olivia. Stay out of the way." Faith seized one of the swords and ran back over to where Mr Kelly was waiting with Cassian.

When she fell back down onto her knees, she saw that the duelling pistol was now in pieces, and Mr Kelly was holding the flint lock in his hands along with another metallic piece of the weapon. He had created a small pile of cloth from Cassian's clothing, and was attempting to use the flint lock to create a spark.

"As soon as I have a flame, you put the sword into it, do you understand?"

Faith had heard of the technique, but she had never known it being practiced except for in the militia. Mr Kelly was going to burn Cassian's flesh to seal his wound.

Faith tore her eyes from the blood that was still pumping out of Cassian's chest and focussed on watching for a flame. Mr Kelly was working tirelessly, panicking and panting as he continuously struck the flint against the metal to gain a spark.

"Please, please, please," Faith prayed.

After several agonising moments, Mr Kelly cried out as a spark ignited the cloth. Faith did exactly as she was told, and plunged the sword into the flame. She knew the flame would not burn for long as it quickly devoured the cloth. Mr Kelly seemed to have this thought as well as he quickly untied his cravat and added it to the pile.

The tip of the sword soon turned yellow, as if it were molten lava.

"Press it onto his wound," encouraged Mr Kelly. "You burn him until you no longer see any blood flow."

Faith was shaking as she brought the sword towards Cassian's chest. But she did not hesitate. She had a way to save him and she would do it. Faith pressed the molten blade into Cassian's chest, and the sickening crackle and singeing smell was enough to turn one's stomach.

Cassian screamed in agony. Faith had never before heard such a noise, but she did not care, nor did she stop. So long as he kept making noise, he was alive.