CHAPTER 20: TULA

“Sela, hurry up!” Sela’s mother shouted from across the hall.

Sela was in the kitchen, filling a large clay bowl with ice cold water from the pipe, which lead to the river.

“Sela, NOW!” Her mother screamed.

A few seconds later, Sela came running into Henry’s room, where I lay in bed twitching, tossing, and turning, drenched in sweat, thick yellow pus oozing from the festering gashes on my warm, pale arms. Every inch of my body seemed to be burning like fire. Sela’s mother was sat at the bedside, her cool hands on my face. Sweat ran down her temples and along her forehead, tears streaming down her red face. Beside the bed stood a small table, on which were some herbs, tea and a freshly made bowl of steaming hot pumpkin soup.

“Here, mother,” Sela whispered, handing her the bowl and tunic.