I have to say, I was blown away by the amount of reviews and feedback you all gave me. Really, I'm truly grateful and I'm so very pleased that you all adore and idolize Guy and Meg just as much as I do. Thank you all so much!!!!
II
Refuge
Meg was alive! It was miraculous, but it was as real as the heart that lay beating in the girl's chest. Guy rose to his feet, clutching her tightly to him. If he hurried he could still find her help. He was not going to be given this second chance only to see it fall to ruin. The old hag who was still hovering around them did not seem too pleased at her quarry wandering away without so much as a word of thanks.
"Now, wait a minute. Where d'ya think ye be going?" She croaked.
"To find a physician." Guy said, his voice coming out in a harsh gasp with the fading of his sobs.
The woman snorted, "A physician? Aye, go an' seek one out if ya fancy yer pretty 'un dying. Bungling fools the lot be."
The hags words stopped him in his place. "I have no choice." He said numbly, but truly this woman spoke sense. Who would help them? And even if a physician choose to assist them without turning them in; would he have the skills to help her? Many was the physician was a healer in name only, but could hardly bandage the slightest of cuts, let alone a wound as severe as Meg's. Helplessness seeped into him, and Guy did not like the feeling.
"Always a choice." The hag replied. "Bring yer pretty one t' my home an' I'll see to her myself."
"Why should I trust you?" Guy growled.
The woman gave another one of her cackling laughs, banging her staff upon the soft earth, "Ye men an' yer stubbornness. Trust me or don't, but yer pretty one'll be dead if she ain't seen to."
Defeated, Guy nodded to the old woman, "Very well then, I'll follow you." He did not trust the hag in the least, but it was not for his sake he went with her. If the woman could help Meg, he could care less what else she had in store for them.
The woman was fair pleased to have gotten her way without much of a fuss. She shuffled herself around, tapping her staff upon the earth as she moved, "Right then, right then...follow along, wolf, aye, an' keep up too."
Guy would have laughed outright at the suggestion that he could not keep up with such an old and feeble woman, but laughter was the farthest thing from his mind. He moved deeper into the forest, following the ancient woman. As he walked he found that the woman was more spry than she let on. She maneuvered her way through low hanging branches, brambles, and other obstacles of the forest. Guy found it rather hard to match her pace while still maintaining a steady hold upon Meg.
At length he found himself speaking to the unconscious woman in his arms as if she could hear him, "You'll be all right," he said, with far more confidence then he would have thought possible for him to ever believe, "I promise you that. Nearly there, now." Although in truth, he had no knowledge of where they were, or where they were heading to.
The hag was amused at the quiet, one-sided conversation going on behind her. "Ye do right in speaking t'her. Mayhap she can hear ya after all, eh?"
Guy shot the woman a glare that went unnoticed, embarrassed that she should have overheard him. The forest seemed to stretch on forever, and the night was cold. He had nothing to bundle Meg in, and already he could feel her skin becoming more and more frigid to the touch.
"Where are you taking us?" Guy finally shouted up to the woman, his voice riddled with anxiety.
"T' my home, where else, ya great fool." The woman responded, "How fairs the pretty one?"
"She's fading..." Guy admitted.
"Then 'tis well that we are here." The old woman huffed as she tapped at the rock walls of a cave deep set into the side of one of the taller hills.
Guy looked up at the cave mouth skeptically. "You mean to tell me you live here?"
"Where ye expecting a castle?" The woman cackled, "Drag yerself inside, if ye have the mind...or the nerve."
The jibe set a scowl to Guy's face and he rudely brushed passed the woman to enter the abode first. The entrance was a tight fit, and he had to crouch low to pass under the wall of rock. It was a passage way more fit for a mouse than a man. As he shuffled further into the passage he could see a faint glow up ahead. He reached the opening and found himself standing in a rather snug cavern. If Guy had been expecting the dark dankness of the underground he was quite mistaken, for the cavern walls were bathed in a orange glow. A fire danced in a makeshift stone hearth in the corner, the milky essence of the smoke curling up a carved chimney to disappear somewhere down a fine splinter in the hillside.
There was a wooden table in the center, carved rather homely, if not dedicatedly. A chair pushed up against the legs. Another oaken chair was positioned right before the hearth, a blanket draped over the seat. A set of shelves had been chiseled into the wall closest to the entry passage. They were well stocked with food and other supplies.
On two short stalagmites hung various blankets, cloaks, as well as other clothing. A bed had been converted out of a craggy gap in between the wall of the cave, there were blankets, pillows, and quilts enough to make it seem entirely comfortable. Spiraling away from the cavern-house, trailed another thin passage way into the darkness. The steady plink plink of water droplets betrayed the possible existence of an underground creek or pond.
Taking in his surroundings, Guy moved to lay Meg down upon the bed. "Ye best place 'er on the table." The hag said, scuffling her way to the table in question, and pulling aside the chair. "Don' need 'er t' stain my blankets none..."
Guy did not argue, he placed Meg gentle done onto the sturdy table. The old hag, pushed him aside, an action he nearly contested, but thought better of as soon as he saw that she was no examining Meg's wound with her sharp, old eyes. Guy backed up, finding it best to let the woman work whatever miracle she intended to do. There came a beastly growl from behind him and Guy sprang away just as he felt jaws nearly snap onto his leg. He cried out in surprise. A rather large, rather annoyed black dog was standing behind him, jaws curled back in a wolfish snarl. Dark eyes, whirling bad temperedly.
"Carwyn!" The old woman shouted. "Silence, ye great oaf."
The black dog gave another bark in protest, but curled back down against his corner next to the bed. Guy stared at the dog and then at the woman, had he just met a witch's familiar? "What is that?"
"Carwyn." The woman explained simply as she made her way over to the fire, pouring water from a jug nearby into a kettle resting over the flames. "He won't harm ye none, ye jus caught him sleeping." She chuckled as she busied herself gathering jars and vials from her shelves, as well as a few bandages. "Right bully 'e is, but I feed 'im so he stays with me."
The woman was mad. The dog was nearly as big as a wolf, in fact, Guy could readily believe that the dog was a wolf. He took two steps away from the dog, eyeing the sleeping beast warily as he did so. A loud ripping sound recalled Guy's attention. The woman had torn a strip of Meg's dress away, exposing her wound properly. She was grumbling to herself as she began to clean it.
"You," She remarked, not turning around to glance at Guy, "See to that water, tell me when it's come 'round to a decent heat."
Guy went over to the fire, watching as the kettle was tickled by the leaping flames. He glanced back to the old woman and to Meg. The woman had a stern expression on her brow, but there was an air of confidence to her movements, as if she believed that she was treating nothing more serious than a scratch. This soothed Guy's own anxiety, and he went back to watching the kettle and the fire. After a minute or two, Guy tentatively withdrew the kettle from the flames. Removing the lid, Guy dipped a finger inside to test the water. It was quite warm, but not scalding.
"How is it, then?" The woman asked.
"Warm." He replied, "Is...is that good enough?" He despised not understanding anything of what the woman was doing.
"It'll 'ave t' do." The woman grunted, "Bring it here."
Guy did so, standing awkwardly to one side as the woman dipped the cloths into the water, only to press it to the wound. "The hot water cleans it." She explained, "The last thing we need is for the wound t' get infected."
"Why are you telling me this?" Guy barked.
The woman grinned at him with snaggle-toothed smile, "'Cause ye looked like ye wanted t' know." She laughed as Guy glowered at her.
A needle was held up as thin thread was struck through the eye. In the fire's glow it appeared an almost wicked sight. "Hold the pretty one's 'and." She commanded.
"Why?" Guy asked.
"This will be painful."
"But, she's unconscious. She shouldn't feel anything." Guy pointed out.
"Unconscious? Aye, she be, but she ain't numb. Whatever pretty dreams are dancing in that pretty head 'o hers should be left undisturbed, eh?"
Guy looked down at Meg. The fire light added a radiance to her pale face and her auburn hair fell about her head, framing that snow white skin with a gentle fiery glow. She looked so peaceful. His hand sought hers almost unconsciously as he stared down at her. From out of the corner of his eye he saw the woman thread the needle into the broken skin. Guy gave her hand a light squeeze. As the woman worked on stitching Meg's wound closed, it became increasingly obvious that whatever blissful peace Meg had been experiencing was being infringed upon. Her brow furrowed and her head turned from one side to the next. She let out a thin moan, but her eyes never opened.
With his other hand, Guy caressed her face, his fingers lightly brushing back the hair from her brow. He hushed her gently, inadvertently hushing his own worry for her. After a time, her discomfort seemed to fade away, and the serene expression returned to her face once more. She let out a small sigh, "Guy..."
An almost indiscernible smile passed over his face as the sound of his name left Meg's lips. He wanted to respond to her, but he felt overly protective of his own emotions in the face of the strange woman's presence. He merely remained holding her hand, gripping it with upmost care, as if it was the most fragile and beautiful thing in the world and he was afraid of breaking it.
With the stitching completed, all that was left to do was bandage her. Before reaching for the bandages, the old woman smeared a poultice over the wound. "For the pain, an' t' ward off infection. Don't need my handiwork going sour overnight." She clicked her tongue in the back of her throat as she began to gently bandage Meg's abdomen. Once finished she nodded to herself as she began to put away her supplies.
"That's all?" Guy called out, feeling that there must be more she could do for her.
"Time'll do the rest, wolf." The woman answered, "If she makes it through the night, it'll be a blessing."
"If?!" Guy couldn't hide the sudden panic in his voice. "I thought you said you could heal her!" He turned his panic into a useless rage directed towards the woman.
"Aye, an' I did the best I could do fer her. Shouting at me won't make yer pretty one any better." The woman chastised Guy as she would a small boy. Seeing that he looked rightly put in his place again, she changed her tone, "Ye should rest up."
"I don't need sleep." Guy grunted.
"No, ye don't." The woman humored his ill tempered mood, "But yer pretty one is going t' need ya if she wakes on the morrow. If nothing, rest for her sake."
The woman approached him and tried to direct him to the bed, but Guy shrugged her away, making his point clear that he meant to stay by Meg's side. "Fine, then." The woman sighed, grabbing the chair and bringing it to him, "Suit yerself."
Guy seated himself in the wooden chair, all the while keeping a hold of Meg's hand. He would not let go, he was as one adrift at sea, if he let go of her, he would be lost again. For a while all he heard echoing about the cavern was the crackling flames. Even the old woman grew silent as she made her way to her bed.
It became hard to keep his eyes open much longer. The days events had finally caught up with him and he was reminded of his fatigue. He could feel his limbs shake with exhaustion. He couldn't keep his head up anymore, he leaned over the table, resting his head just next to where Meg lay. He fancied he could hear her heartbeat, steadier than it had been before and getting stronger. He smiled a bit, just before closing his eyes, the sound of Meg's heartbeat soothing him to sleep.
A/N: The mystery surrounding the old woman will be explained, as well as that of her wolfish comapanion, Carwyn.
Oh and I'm not letting Guy and Meg skip off to a wonderful sunset so easily. *Evil grin* I have a few tricks up my sleeve.