Hell's Gate (Part 2)

The nearest stream was only half a league away. Reed's keen ears quickly picked up the sound of a small stream nestled behind a thick grove of pine trees.

"Over here, Lady Neve!" Reed called from the side of the road, leading his steed and their packhorses deeper into the woods.

Neve pulled on Yule's reins, following the boy's path. In the short time between their conversation and locating the stream, she felt increasingly exhausted. Perhaps Reed's sentiments had been correct.

Once Neve reached Reed, he had already dismounted and begun fastening the horses' reins to a nearby pine.

Neve's stallion came to a stop with a quiet whinny, seemingly eager for Neve to climb down. She patted the horse's neck appreciatively and readied herself for the dismount.

With relative ease, Neve swung her left leg over the saddle, beginning to lower herself to the ground.

But as Neve felt her body descend, her vision grew fuzzy and faded in spots. Neve belatedly realized she was falling, witnessing it as if she was a spectator outside of her own body.

She landed on the ground heavily, having just enough presence of mind to break her fall with her arms. Reed was by her side in an instant.

"Are you alright?" he worried, gingerly helping Neve sit up. He propped her against the trunk of a tree, its rough bark digging into her leather armour.

"I'm a bit lightheaded," Neve admitted. "I must be dehydrated."

Reed reached into his cloak, producing a half-empty waterskin. He uncapped it, bringing the waterskin to Neve's lips.

She drank the water greedily, despite its unpleasant warmth from Reed's body heat. Still, it brought no immediate relief. Reed tilted the waterskin up, until the last drop of water fell onto Neve's dry lips.

"I'll refill our waterskins," Reed offered, jumping to his feet. "You stay here and, uh, get some rest."

Having no energy left to scold the boy for his impoliteness, Neve simply lifted a limp hand and waved him away. "Thank you. Be quick about it."

Neve watched as Reed scampered away, surprisingly nimble despite their long journey on horseback. Though, he was probably more accustomed to long-distance travel compared to Neve.

'I should hope that he doesn't run away,' Neve thought drily.

She stifled a yawn, her eyes watering. Having finally stopped moving, Neve's tiredness had caught up to her fully.

'I suppose I can rest my eyes for a few moments,' she reasoned with herself.

Tilting her head back, Neve closed her eyes and let herself relax. She listened to the calming sound of the soft wind passing through the trees and the distant ebb and flow of the stream.

'Just a few moments.'

–––

Neve's eyes flew open in a panic. She had fallen asleep! Disoriented, Neve whipped her head around wildly, trying to get her bearings.

'What time is it?' she thought, heart thundering. 'And where is Reed? Had he run off?'

Neve began to stand up, her knees buckling underneath as her vision blurred once again. She fell onto all fours, feeling herself becoming sick.

Her stomach clenched painfully, and Neve emptied the contents of her stomach onto the forest floor. She squeezed her eyes shut as she heaved.

Beneath her, Neve felt a pool of warm water and bile seep around her fingers.

"Lady Neve!" Reed called out, his voice strained with concern.

Neve glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of the distressed boy running toward her, abandoning the food he had been retrieving from the packhorses.

With some effort, Neve pushed herself off the ground, finding herself in a kneeling position. The world seemed to sway around her.

"How long have I been asleep?" she managed to say, her voice scratchy.

Reed knelt beside her, carefully holding her arm to keep her steady. "Not even an hour. And I would say you fell 'unconscious' rather than 'asleep.'"

"Save your wisdom," Neve snapped back weakly. "Now, what's wrong with me?"

"You're burning a fever," Reed replied, lifting a cool hand to Neve's clammy forehead. "I tried to wake you earlier, but I couldn't."

Neve furrowed her brow. 'Have I fallen ill?'

"I believe your wound has become infected," the boy continued, his eyes nervously darting to Neve's shoulder. "I suspected that was the case and I, uh, removed your armour."

Had she not felt so unwell, Neve would have laughed. "And nothing else?"

"N-no! No, of course not!" Reed spluttered, his cheeks flaming. "Even I'm not that imprudent."

"Well, now is your opportunity to do so," Neve said. "We might have to apply some rudimentary treatment before we depart."

When Reed said nothing, Neve looked at him impatiently. "What are you waiting for? Help me remove my tunic."

Reed squeaked unintelligibly, jerking his arms hesitant towards the hem of Neve's tunic. He grasped the wool tightly, pointedly averting his gaze. Slowly, Reed began to lift the tunic over Neve's midsection.

Upon realizing Neve was wearing a linen undershirt, the boy released an audible sigh of relief.

He hurriedly lifted the tunic over Neve's chest, the fabric bunching underneath her lowered arms.

"You'll have to lift your arms, My Lady," Reed remarked apologetically.

Neve inhaled deeply, then grit her teeth. She lifted her arms up, barely high enough for Reed to pull the tunic off. The dull ache in her left shoulder suddenly intensified into searing hot agony.

A string of curses escaped Neve's lips.

Reed rushed to slide the tunic over Neve's head, quickly pulling the heavy fabric down her arms. Finally, the tunic was removed.

Neve exhaled shakily, her arms dropping to her sides immediately. Reed placed her tunic down on the ground beside her, meeting Neve's gaze apprehensively.

"Please don't make me undress you further," the boy pleaded, his face beet red.

"Just undo the first few buttons," Neve instructed mercifully. "Just enough to reveal my shoulder."

Reed nodded, shakily reaching for the delicate buttons of her undershirt. He fumbled through the first handful of buttons, eventually loosening the collar enough to pull it over Neve's wounded shoulder.

Reed grimaced at the full extent of the injury.

Neve moved to turn her head but faltered, as every small movement made her head pound.

"How bad is it?" Neve asked through gritted teeth, trying to ignore her spinning vision.

"Well, the blood clotted, at least," Reed described carefully. "The injury...it's quite–it's quite swollen. And red. There's some pus. It's oozing a little bit. Actually, more than a little bit–"

"And how far along is the infection?" Neve interjected impatiently. "Can we make it to Hell's Gate?"

"It's not too serious yet. But the wound is fairly deep," he replied, pulling Neve's undershirt back over her shoulder. "If we can make it to Hell's Gate before nightfall, I think you'll be alright."

"Okay," Neve said, nodding resolutely. "Let's make haste, then."