Marilyn looked at Meggy’s wound as Eliz examined it. “Can you help her? Fuller stopped the bleeding, but she’s still in a bad way.” Remis’s wife had been struck by a sword three days earlier when the Resistance had attacked one of the Legionnaires’s caravans. They had taken her to her and Remis’s cottage on the southern outskirts of Bitter Springs, Terantis.
“How long has she been unconscious? And the fever?” Eliz lifted back the dressing from the wound, and Marilyn could tell that she did not like what she saw.
“She was alert yesterday morning, but was not doing so well after sunset. I noticed the fever later, last night, but it wasn’t bad until a little while ago.” Remis replied. “Martus said he’d get help, and I stayed here.”
“I think there is some festering, but I have something for that.” Eliz put the bandages in a waste bin.
Marilyn realized that the priest was talking about her magic training, and she watched as she began to weave the spell that would turn back the festering. When she was done with that, she did a second spell to mend the wound some.
When she was done, she took a deep breath. “That should help.”