Mika dismounted and leaned against the exhausted horse, his own legs and thighs quivering with the tension of having gripped the horse so tightly. Together they slowly brought their breathing and their emotions under control. Mika patted the horse and rested his forehead against his neck. He stroked him and murmured softly, 'Good horse. You're the best.'
Still moving slowly on rubbery legs that scarcely felt capable of supporting him, Mika searched for something to use to rub the horse down. Time was valuable and danger was still near, but the horse would surely founder unless he took the time to cool him down.
But he could find nothing. His cloak was gone, ripped from his shoulders somehow, somewhere. His leather clothing was too hard and too stiff to be of use, and his bedroll was still tied behind the grey's saddle.
Sighing deeply and shrugging philosophically, Mika ripped the princess's silk gown off at the knee. 'Excuse me, Your Highness, I need part of your gown to wipe the horse down. You don't mind, do you?' he asked as an afterthought, his hand resting casually on her upturned buttock. She was oblivious, of course.
'There, Tam. You're a witness,' Mika said to the wolf curled up on the ground, licking his wounds. 'I asked her and she didn't say anything, so I guess it's all right.'
The silk made a fine horse-cloth, and Mika stroked and wiped the weary animal clean with handfuls of moss, then dried it thoroughly with the soft silk cloth.
The roan nodded his head up and down, contented and reassured by the gentle rhythmic movements, then rested his head on Mika's shoulder and groaned deeply. Mika was taken aback, used as he was to the ornery nastiness of the grey. Startled, he stroked the velvety smoothness of the roan's muzzle, and he breathed softly in his ear.
Once the roan had cooled off, Mika led him to the stream and allowed him to drink briefly. Then he tied him to a low branch and left him to rest.
He thought about removing the princess from the horse's back, but decided that since she was still under a spell, and evidently not aware of any discomfort, he had best tend to Tam's and his own needs first.
Fortunately, the medicine bag still hung from his shoulder. He was glad that he had decided to keep it on his person. Opening the mouth of the bag, he carefully placed the contents on the edge of the mossy bank and studied them.
There was the book, bound in leather, its thick pages frayed and worn, a small bone pipe, and a dried twist of wolfsbane. There were a number of vials filled with healing potions and unguents, and several horns stoppered with wax plugs that contained medicinal salves. There was his father's ceremonial wolf cloak, a variety of other useful items, and a small sack of the dried meats and vegetables that Hary had given to him.
Mika picked up the antelope horn of healing salve and the sweat-stained silk cloth and turned his attention to Tam.
Tam whined plaintively as Mika examined his wounds. Though none of the wounds were immediately life threatening, Tam's thick pelt was ripped and torn in at least a dozen places from his head to his tail, and a number of the wounds extended deep into the flesh itself. Infection, if not loss of blood, could cause the wolf a slow, lingering death. The wounds had bled freely and that was good, for the dead flesh that gathered in the jaws and teeth of the hyenas was rotting and putrid and could cause disease and death even if the bites healed over.
Mika knew that he needed to clean the wounds thoroughly and then dress them with healing salve or Tam could sicken and die.
First, it was necessary to find shelter, for even though there were no gnolls in sight, it was best to remain hidden.
As their hiding place Mika chose an ancient blue spruce that towered high above him. He crawled under the broad skirt of the tree and found that, as he had hoped, there was ample room beneath its branches. Over the years, the lowest limbs had died and broken off, leaving a comfortable cavern. The fragrant branches draped around him like a living tent.
As he was moving the wolf, who allowed himself to be picked up like a small cub, Mika noted a stout witch hazel bush and remembered that the leaves made a fine cleansing lotion. After he built a small fire next to the base of the trunk, he stripped several handfuls of leaves from the bush, then looked around for something that would function as a container. There was nothing. Nothing at all.
Determined, his gaze fell on his own leather boot, not exactly the best recourse, but one did with what one had. He quickly crushed the leaves between two rocks and dumped the pungent grey-green mess into his boot, then filled it to the ankle with water from the stream, allowing the leather to remain in the stream until it was saturated both inside and out.
When the boot had absorbed as much water as it could, Mika propped it over the fire with a tripod of green sticks. While he waited for the water to heat, he washed the strip of sweat-stained silk in the stream.
The water soon came to a rolling boil, and Mika let it stew until the air was thick with the sharp fragrance of the medicinal leaves before he removed the boot from the fire.
'Well, old boy, this won't do much for my boot. I just hope you don't suffer any ill effects. My brother always said my feet could be used as lethal weapons. Phew! It certainly smells strong enough.'
Mika's tone was jovial and confident, but inside, he was aching. Thoughts of Veltran-oba suddenly filled his mind. He remembered their friendly banter with a sense of acute loss and wished that his brother were here with him now.
Tam looked away and growled, licking his lips constantly, nervously, as the sharp aroma filled his nostrils. He looked at Mika out of the corner of his eye and his head moved stiffly, his dewlaps twitching.
'Calm down, boy,' Mika said soothingly as he stroked the wolf between his ears and scratched his throat. 'You know I wouldn't do anything to up» et you unless it were necessary. u have to trust me. We've been together too long for you to start doubting me now.'
The words, the tone, or both seemed to soothe the wolf, but Mika wanted to be certain he wouldn't snap in fear or pain. He rummaged about in his supplies and filled the tiny bone pipe with crushed wolfsbane and lit it. Trying not to inhale, he cupped his hand behind the wolfs head and blew the smoke directly into Tam's nostrils. After several puffs, Tam's agitated heartbeat slowed and his pupils dilated. He was as ready as he would ever be.
Dipping the silk cloth in the hot liquid, Mika began swabbing out the wolfs wounds with the hot herbal brew. Soon Tam's pelt was streaming with the fragrant fluid which pooled beneath him on the needle-strewn ground.
Mika worked quickly, packing the clean wounds with the thick healing salves and stitching the jagged edges of skin together in the worst instances, while keeping the wolf calm with his voice.
Tam began to move restlessly, showing signs of recovering from the effects of the wolfsbane. Mika hastily filled the pipe again and, taking a deep pull of the narcotic smoke, blew it into the wolfs nostrils. Unfortunately, he had forgotten to hold the smoke in his mouth and had no sooner exhaled the last of the smoke than he felt the familiar warm lassitude spread throughout his own body. Shrugging mentally, he took another pull on the pipe and blew it more or less in Tam's general direction. Just to make sure the wolf was really out, he loaded the pipe again. However,
Tam seemed to be sleeping, so he was forced to smoke it all himself.
It took him a minute to think of what he was supposed to be doing. Then he remembered. Sighing heavily, he turned the wolf over and began cleaning the wounds on the other side. One of the hyenas had seized Tam's tail in its teeth and in the struggle had pulled the flesh as well as the skin away from the vertebrae for the length of a finger joint. The flesh on either side was already swollen and discolored.
Tam was still sleeping, but Mika felt nauseous looking at the mangled flesh and felt the need to fortify himself. 'Only a puff,' he murmured as he relit the pipe.
Eyes blinking dreamily, he put down the pipe with exaggerated caution and once more bent to the onerous task.
'Ugh!' he said with a shudder as he rinsed the horrible wound with the cleansing liquid. 'Now I know why I didn't want to do this for the rest of my life!' But still, he felt grateful that he had learned the skill, for without it, his friend would surely have died.
At last the awful injury was cleaned and the worst of the mutilated flesh trimmed away with his knife. Mika packed the remainder of the salve around the wound. There was a great deal of flesh still exposed, and Mika knew that it had to be covered or it would attract insects that would lay their eggs in the flesh. Mika sighed and smiled, then wrapped the pink silk cloth round and round the wolfs tail and tied it in a knot. Tam would not be pleased and
