#DailyLines #MOBY #WRITTENInMYOwnHEARTSBlood #Book8 #OutJUNE10th #debridement


“I’ll need more light,” I said, turning to the servant. “And a lot of bandages.” He nodded, avoiding looking at the man on the bed, and left.

We worked for some minutes, murmuring occasional encouragement to Tench. At one point, Jamie pulled the chamberpot out from under the bed, excused himself with a brief word, and took it into the hall, where I heard him retching. He came back a few moments later, pale and smelling of vomit, and resumed the delicate work of uncovering what might remain of Tench’s face.

“Can ye open this eye, man?” he asked, gently touching the left side. I peered up from my station over his leg, to see that the lid was evidently whole, but badly blistered and swollen, the lashes singed off.

“No.” Tench’s voice had changed, and I moved abruptly up to his head. He sounded almost sleepy, his voice unconcerned. I laid the back of my hand against his cheek; it was cool and clammy. I said something very bad out loud, and his working eye sprang open, staring up at me.

“Oh, there you are,” I said, much relieved. “I thought you were going into shock.”

“If he hasna been shocked by what’s already happened to him, I shouldna think anything would do it, Sassenach,” Jamie said, but bent closer to look. “I think he’s only worn out from the pain, aye? Sometimes ye just canna be bothered to put up with it anymore, but ye’re no ready to die, so ye just drift away for a bit.”

Tench sighed deeply and gave a small, jerky nod.

“If you could just…stop for a little while?” he whispered. “Please.”

“Aye,” Jamie said softly, and patting his chest, drew the stained sheet up over him. “Rest a bit, _a charaidh_.”

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