The Fire Inside

Chapter 11

You lay there on your cot. Your mind racing. How could you rest, when your world had just been turned upside down. You wondered if the guard on your tent, was to keep people out, or you in.

After all, if you were worth a lot of money, you wondered what would happen when you reached eighteen. Would you suddenly become not so useful, not so cared for and not so loved. Once the goose had laid the golden egg, it was toast, and so would you be.

You put your hand on the bandage, where the knife had entered. By putting just the right amount of pressure on the wound, you found you could move a bit more easily. It still hurt, but not quite so much.

After about ten minutes of experimentation, you were able to sit.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed. The first step, was to find some clothes.

Standing was a different matter, as soon as you put weight on your legs, a shaft of pain went through your side.

You stood there for a few minutes, hand clutched to your side trying to control the pain. Sweat started to bead on your forehead with the effort.

It wasn't like you needed to go far. A trunk on the other side of your tent, housed the clothes that you had been wearing in the mountains. They had been laundered, whilst you wore the hand me downs.

You took a deep breath, which you felt more than you should've done, you pushed yourself away from the cot, towards the trunk.

You staggered across like a drunk person, gripping your torso, in an attempt to dull the pain. On reaching the trunk, you let out a groan, as you dropped to your knees exhausted.

You looked up, as you saw the tent flap opening.

Dutch walked into your tent, his eyes narrowed.

"What do you think you're doing, Blair." he demanded.

You gritted your teeth, waiting for the wave of pain to pass.

"I'm getting dressed," you hissed.

Dutch rolled his eyes, "No, I don't think you are, it looks to me like you're just about to collapse."

He took a step towards you, but then noticed something, glinting on the floor. He bent down and picked it up. It was your locket.

"What's this doing on the floor?" he asked.

You grimaced, "I... threw it..." you stopped waiting for another wave of pain to pass, "away." you finished.

Dutch frowned, and stared at you, "Are you in pain, Blair?"

You shook your head, "I'm fine," you gasped.

Dutch opened the tent flap, and called outside.

"Hosea, can you get in here."

You closed your eyes for a second, "I said, I'm fine," you repeated, slowly.

Dutch shook his head and sighed, "No Blair, you're not. You've just been stabbed. Which is why you have to rest!"

You glared at him, "You think I can rest when..." you grimaced, and took a deep breath, "when..." you closed your eyes, you suddenly felt dizzy.

You winced, as you felt yourself being picked up and carried back to the cot.

You opened your eyes, you figured you must have blacked out because Hosea was sitting on the edge of the cot, and Susan was standing just behind him. They hadn't been there when you closed your eyes, or when Dutch had picked you up.