iv. the irishman
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Gene leaned against Ragnar as he crouched behind her, his hands moving her hair to kiss her shoulder and neck. He pulled out a small dagger and placed it in her hand, the concern on his face overshadowed his excitement about Uhtred's return.
"Go, Ragnar. Bring him back." She whispered as she clutched the hilt of the weapon. She knew he didn't like leaving her behind but it was necessary. She needed to make the salve for the wounds Uhtred would undoubtedly have. The man sighed but agreed, he walked over to Hild and Steapa, who waited silently for him. Gene knew the nun didn't like her due to faith reasons but she enjoyed the presence of the lady who unlike most, wasn't trying to kill her. And Steapa, well, he was helping her master sword fighting in secret. Ragnar stopped training her after he accidentally cut her and he feared he would lose control again, so she went to the giant Christian who surprisingly agreed.
Steapa walked over with a small pouch and kneeled to hand it to her, she looked at him in suspicion from her place in the dirt before she took the gift and opened it up seeing the healing agents she needed.
Inside were Yarrow leaves and Broadleaf Plantain, two plants that were hard to come by but helped heal severe wounds. She gasped in surprise and looked at the man in awe, he reached over to ruffle her hair affectionately before returning to his horse.
"You're a strange man, Steapa!" She yelled, he chuckled at her and waved her off. Shaking her head with a small smile, she started mixing the boiled water and honey slowly in her copper bowl, she soon crushed up some of the Yarrow leaves and threw in some deer fat to give it some substance. After the salve was finished she poured the mixture into two different bowls, grabbed the broadleaves, carefully punctured the leaf with a needle, and laid them in the paste.
Hours later, the sound of horses alerted her of their arrival, she watched from her spot as Uhtred walked into the nearby field alone, she looked to the right and saw a new man leaning against a tree, he looked weak. She grabbed the bowls and handed one to Hild as she moved to pass, the blonde paused and hesitantly took the paste.
"For the cuts on his back. Use the paste first and apply the back of the leaves gently." She ordered, the nun nodded and squeezed her hand in appreciation before walking to Uhtred. Gene moved to the campsite where Steapa was sharpening his blade and Ragnar slept, the giant nodded at her briefly. She leaned over and poked the unknown man's forehead and stifled a laugh when he swatted at her hand.
"Stop it." He mumbled, annoyed.
She did not.
"What's your name?" She asked instead, the man sighed and finally turned to her, his face lost all color immediately. She looked to Steapa, who had watched in amusement, as they both suddenly grew confused.
"Finan, my lady," He said hoarsely, she scoffed at the title but didn't say anything. "Are you the angel from Uhtred's dreams?" He whispered.
"Angel? No, Irishman, they would die in fright at the sight of her." Steapa spoke, teasingly looking at the girl. A grin graced her face as she rolled her eyes, definitely a strange man.
"I am simply a seer at best or a witch in your religion." She answered, touching his cross necklace before looking back at him.
"Have you come to kill a defenseless man?" She laughed and shook her head no, she stood and held out her hand for him to take. He quickly looked to Steapa in a brief moment of fear and the man nodded at him.
"Go, she will help you," Steapa said, reaching for a piece of bread and watching the man go with her. The Irishman and seer walked a ways away and she motioned for him to sit on the log, he did so without complaint.
"Take your shirt off," He once again did as she ordered, hissing as the fabric rubbed his cuts. She used a cloth to clean the wounds as best as she could, the water helping very little. She then dipped her fingers in the paste and used the other hand to gently spread the wound wider leading to him groaning in pain. "I know it burns. But it will help after, I swear. It stops infection and enhances the healing process," When the man didn't speak she added to it. "My name is Genevieve." She then applied the leaves to the paste and watched him relax from the coolness against his warm skin.
"Thank you, Genevieve. Outside of Uhtred, I can't remember the last time someone offered to help me out of kindness." His accent made some of the words slur slightly but she helped him to turn once she finished the procedure.
"That's something you and I have in common then, Irishman. Until two years ago, I was on a slaver ship like you both." He looked at her with sadness in his eyes and reached for her hand, she allowed him to grab it. Watching him curiously, as he held it in his own before he turned it over to show her scarred palm.
"How long?" His fingers traced the scars on her palm and watched follow them to her wrists, the burns from the ropes would forever be bared on her skin.
"Ten years." He removed one of his hands and pulled her into a hug. Normally, he would be dead by now. But, the way his hands stroked her hair and the other still held her hand, reminded her of her mother. The most beautiful and kind mother one could have was burned alive by priests for protecting her devil daughter.
"You're the strongest person I have ever met, my lady. Uhtred and I barely survived two years, I couldn't imagine eight more." He whispered into her ear, his accent just as strong as her mother's, it nearly made her want to curl up in his arms forever.
But she would not allow herself that comfort.
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