Book 3: Chapter 63: A Blade of Mercy
Even at the northern side of the ice bridge where Bastiallano’s knights had hastily erected a medical tent, the stench of burned flesh and death still permeated the air. The Duchess ducked through the canopy's closed flaps to join Sergeant Ryver and his patient inside. The medic knelt over the injured Lady Priscilla, who lay on her stomach, her injured right arm and face draped over the edge.
“Here, some cool water with a bit of soap diluted into it,” Carina murmured as she set the metal pail down and watched as he cut away the fabric and hair that clung to the blistering wounds. “How is she?”
Sergeant Ryver shook his head with a sigh as he set aside his scissors. “It could have been worse. She might have stood a better chance if she jumped into the river when his Majesty did.” He tested the water and nodded approval before lifting the prepared metal ladle and pouring the clear liquid gently over Priscilla’s arm.
“Will it scar?”
“I’m afraid it’s very likely. I’ll do what I can, but someone with more experience dealing with burns might be able to give you a more accurate guess.”
“You’re doing fine. I’ve sent a knight ahead to the capital to purchase some calendula ointment from one of my apothecaries.”
“That will be helpful. For now, I’ll cool down the burns slowly with this,” Ryver murmured as he focused on his task. “Then we just need to keep it covered with sterilized bandages.”
The Duchess grimaced sympathetically as Priscilla trembled and flinched even in her unconscious state while the cool water ran over her burned, inflamed skin. The sound of horses and raised voices quickly pulled the ice witch’s attention, and she left the tent to be greeted with the sight of Nicholas, Eleanora, and Beaumont at the head of the Kensington knights.