An hour later, I returned to Tavington's room to see how he was fairing. I found him curled up on his left side but he quickly shifted to lying on his back, his eyes fluttering open.
"Sir?"
Tavington dimly registered my presence, turning his head away as I approached.
"Colonel," I murmured, touching his forehead; he was still warm. Getting up to fetch some damp rags, I paused when Tavington's form shook as he coughed deeply.
"Stay," he spoke in a barely audible voice.
"Sir, I must go, but I will return shortly.
Before he could respond, I left the room to get something cold and came back with a wet cloth.
"Here," I whispered, laying the cloth on the colonel's forehead; he let out a shallow breath and coughed twice before settling to sleep.
My stomach rumbled with hunger and I looked at the clock; it was still morning, and there was bound to be leftover food from the officers' meal. Slipping out of the colonel's room, I retrieved some bread and water, and brought it back to his quarters with me, eating quietly in a chair near his bed, watching him sleep. He stirred, moaned softly, but did not wake.
When I finished eating, I set my plate down beside the chair and approached the colonel to remove the cloth from his forehead. As I leaned over him, I noticed a faint scar going down the front of his right shoulder and curiously reached out to touch it. The skin was rough to feel.
A battle wound, perhaps? I thought before remembering myself and quickly exchanged the old cloth for a new one, surprised that Tavington had slept through the whole ordeal; I removed my hand and he opened his eyes, focusing his gaze for a moment before it went hazy.
"Colonel…"
He did not respond, but closed his eyes once more. As soon as he was asleep, I left the room to find Kezia.
"How is he fairing," she asked when I found her on the first floor.
"The same. Delirious, maybe," I replied. "I don't think we should fetch anyone yet. I'll see him through the rest of the day and tonight."
Kezia looked at me warily but dismissed me without quarrel. Since the colonel's room was drafty, I went to my room, grabbed a cloak, and returned to his quarters, where I found him tossing beneath the covers, murmuring incoherently.
Rushing over to him, I shook him until he awoke, sitting bolt upright, eyes wide, gasping for air. I reached out for him, touching the side of his face and shushed him. After a minute, Tavington's breathing steadied ever so slightly.
"Fever dream…" I spoke.
The colonel didn't answer and I got up to go back to the chair when he grabbed hold of my forearms, keeping me in place, a look of irrational fear in his eyes.
"Let go, Colonel," I said calmly, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, but he tightened his grasp into a vicegrip.
"Colonel Tavington!" I raised my voice. "Let me go!"
The colonel broke from his frightened haze and released me, breathing shakily as he looked away.
"Poppy," he whispered hoarsely.
I nodded and went to the kitchen, rummaged through the cupboards and found opium, quickly making it into a tea and took it back up to Tavington. It was bitter, enough to make one retch, yet the colonel took it with a single swallow, leaning back down on his pillow, slipping into unconsciousness nearly an hour later.