THE CRIMSON BADGER - Chapter Thirty-Two
The color drained from Sister Aurelia's face when she saw Cyrus being carried into the Infirmary. By this time word of what had happened was spreading through the Abbey, and Vanessa - who had served as Infirmary keeper herself before becoming Abbess - was at Aurelia's side as Cyrus was laid atop a made bed.
On the way inside, Machus had called for his medical satchel, and one of his fellow foxes raced in with it now. While Machus washed his bloodied paws clean in a bowl of soapy water, he explained the extent of the injuries to Sister Aurelia and Vanessa. The two healer mice made a cursory examination of Cyrus for themselves as the swordfox chieftain joined them, drying his paws on a fresh white towel. What they saw made Aurelia blanch further, and even Vanessa sucked in her breath at the graveness of the wound.
They stood and watched as Machus hurriedly spread the contents of his medical kit on the adjacent bed. It was unlike any healer's bag that Vanessa or Aurelia had ever heard of; instead of dried herb leaves and small packets of powder, the fox's satchel unfolded in elaborate layers, revealing an array of what could only be described as tiny tools, finer than any tinker's instruments. There were a few thin packets, but most of the medicines were stored in scores of small stoppered bottles, vials and flasks, each neatly labeled as to its contents. There were other devices and materials as well whose purpose the Redwallers could not even begin to guess.
Machus ordered a sheet to be stripped from one of the other beds and held up to reflect light from the window back down onto his patient. When he was satisfied with the arrangement , he looked across at Cyril. The older brother had still not released his sibling's paw, all during the hasty trip through Great Hall and up the stairs to the Infirmary.
"Son, you'll have to leave us now," Machus said softly but firmly. "You can't be here while I operate. You can stay just outside in the corridor, if you please would. I may need your help later, but for now I must work alone."
"Please save him," Cyril implored in a dry voice.
"I'll do everything I can, I promise."
Cyril let go of Cyrus's paw, which fell to the bedcovers and lay still. Cyril backed away several reluctant steps, then forced himself to turn and leave the room.
Machus went to work. Selecting a tiny needle from his kit, he threaded it with a length a plant fiber so fine that it was almost invisible. One by one, he removed his improvised bandages from inside Cyrus's abdomen, stopping to sew up each bit of internal damage before moving on to the next area. He also had Sister Aurelia sprinkle a mist of medicine from one of his ampules across each stitched section.
Aurelia and Vanessa were both horrified and fascinated by the procedure. After the last internal sutures were completed and Machus had no more immediate need of extra paws, the two mice withdrew to the opposite side of the Infirmary, where Abbot Arlyn, Brother Geoff, Monty and several others waited anxiously. They were given a sketchy outline of what Machus was doing.
"Could this save Cyrus?" Geoff asked.
Vanessa shook her head. "When I first saw how grievously Cyrus was injured, I thought he must surely die. I could not have saved him, even with the full extent of my skill and knowledge, and Aurelia's help. The methods this fox is using are utterly strange to me. It is not any kind of medicine or healing that is within my experience."
"So, it could work?" Geoff pressed, desperate hope in his eyes.
Sister Aurelia shrugged. "I am not as knowledgeable in the healing arts as our Abbess, but I deem it will take a miracle to keep young Cyrus with us past this day."
Arlyn folded his paws into his habit sleeves. "Miracles are not unknown here at Redwall," he declared with quiet strength. "If another is what we need now, let us pray for it, and hope that our prayers are answered."
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After he'd finished sealing and disinfecting the internal wounds, Machus stitched the gash closed with his needle and fiber thread. Quickly washing the blood from his paws once more, he beckoned Sister Aurelia to help him swab clean the fur around the main wound, then apply a healing poultice over it and wrap the whole area with clean bandages. Cyrus was stripped of his torn and blood-stained habit, and gently lifted over to a clean bed. The young mouse was limp and pallid, and did not look like a beast who was likely to survive this ordeal.
Machus cames over to Vanessa and the others. "The lad's injuries are all closed, inside and out," the fox said gravely, "but I fear he has lost too much blood."
"That was my concern too," Vanessa nodded, looking quite drawn herself. "Whatever magic Machus has wrought in tending the wounds themselves, his efforts will all amount to naught if Cyrus does not have enough blood left in him to keep him alive."
"I am sure you all did everything that you could," Arlyn sighed, "and we are grateful, especially to you, Machus ... "
The fox held up his paw to stop the old Abbot. "There is one thing left to do yet, and not much time. Where are Cyrus's parents?"
"Cyril and Cyrus were left with us when they were just infants," Vanessa explained. "Their parents were poor fieldmice from the Western Plains, who wanted their sons to be raised as Redwallers. I cannot even say whether they still live, it has been so many - "
Machus interrupted. "So young Cyril, the one waiting out in the corridor - he is the wounded child's only blood relation at Redwall?"
"Yes. What do you have in mind?"
"There is a technique I have used with some success, but it is not without risk. However, I feel we have no choice but to try it. Would you please have Cyril come in here?"
Vanessa hesitated, concerned about Cyril seeing his brother in such a dire state, then nodded. Sister Aurelia went out to the hallway, where Maura was doing what she could to comfort and console Cyril. The young mouse followed the healer back into the Infirmary, his gaze immediately straying to his bedridden sibling as he was led over to Machus and Vanessa. He stared imploringly up at the fox. "Cyrus ... will he ... ?"
"He is still in great danger," Machus said to Cyril. "As things stand now, I do not think he will make it. But there is one last hope ... and only you can help me."
"Tell me what to do!" Cyril declared without hesitation.
"I want to take some of your blood and put it into your brother. He doesn't have enough of his own left to keep him alive much longer."
Sister Aurelia's eyebrows shot up, and she looked to the Abbess. "Do you know of this procedure, Vanessa?"
Vanessa was at a loss. "This is beyond me, Aurelia." She turned back to Machus. "You said there is risk in this. Tell us."
"The exchange of blood can only be safely done between family members," Machus explained. "Even then, it is not absolutely certain to succeed. Sometimes the blood does not match up and blend properly, even between siblings, or parent and child."
"What if Cyril and Cyrus are not a proper match, and you put some of Cyril's blood into Cyrus anyway?"
"Most likely, it will kill Cyrus." Machus spoke plainly.
"Oh." Vanessa mulled this over. "But, if we don't try this ... "
"Then he will almost certainly die," Machus finished for her.
"What about the danger to Cyril?"
"For the beast yielding the blood, there is hardly any risk. The flow will only be in one direction, so there is very little chance that any of Cyrus's blood will get into Cyril. The trickiest part will be making sure I do not draw too much from Cyril and leave him overly weak. But he is nearly of adult size, and has the vigor of youth on his side. It should not be any great problem."
"I cannot say I fully understand how you propose to do this." Vanessa gnawed her lip in uncertainty. "And as far as giving my permission ... "
"Mother Abbess, you must!" Cyril cried out. "If we don't, Cyrus will die! I want to do it!"
Machus looked sternly at the Abbess. "If it to be done, it must be done now. Immediately, this very moment. Every second could make a difference between success and failure."
Finally, Vanessa gave a single emphatic nod. "Do it. Sister Aurelia will give you whatever help she can. Cyril, do whatever Machus tells you to. I hope this proves what Cyril needs to pull through. The hearts and will of Redwall shall be with all of you."
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Cyril was laid on the bed next to his brother's, atop several layers of blankets so that he was elevated slightly about Cyrus. From his kit Machus produced a length of thin flexible tubing, made of some strange material none of the Redwallers could identify. To each end of the tubing he affixed a fine hollow steel needle. As he'd done previously with the smaller needle he'd used to sew up the wound, Machus sterilized these hollow needles with pure grain alcohol, a few drops of which he also poured through the tube to sanitize its inner lining.
Having thus made ready for the transfusion, Machus lastly took a small spring clamp and pinched closed a spot about halfway along the snake of tubing. The fox bent down to Cyril, closely examining the inside of the young mouse's elbow.
"I must find a strong, clear artery, carrying good blood," Machus explained, for the benefit of both Cyril and the two healer mice, who hovered near, observing. "These needles are hollow, and will allow me to drain blood from Cyril, through this tube, and into Cyrus. Ah, this looks like a good one." Parting Cyril's fur, Machus deftly slipped the needle slantways into the flesh below the elbow. Cyril winced, but forced himself not to cry out or moan. The tube stiffened somewhat as it was quickly filled up to the clamped point. Machus looked on with approval. "So far, so good," he murmured.
Sister Aurelia could not help but comment, "I'd assumed you would put Cyril's blood into some sort of vessel, and from there into Cyrus. But it looks to me as if you're going to transfer it directly from Cyril into Cyrus, through that tube."
"Yes, I am," Machus said, now examining Cyrus for an appropriate place to insert the needle on the other end of the tube. "It can be done both ways, but we must do a direct transfer since time is of the essence."
"What's to stop Cyrus's blood from draining into the tube instead?"
"A number of things. First of all, Cyrus has lost a lot of blood, so his body will more readily accept new blood from outside. Secondly, his heart is beating very weakly now, so it is no match for Cyril's. We also have Cyril raised slightly higher, which will help as well. But the key is in the choice of veins. I've tapped into Cyril at a place where the blood pumps strongly from the heart. With Cyrus I will do exactly the reverse, feeding the line into a vessel running to the heart, where the pressure is less. That way, the blood will be sure to flow in only the direction we want - from Cyril into Cyrus."
Finding the exact point on Cyrus where he wanted to insert the second needle, Machus rested the tip lightly against the flesh there and reached to release the spring clamp. "It is absolutely vital that no air be allowed into the bloodstream. That would kill Cyrus more certainly than a bad blood match would." Removing the clamp from the tube to let Cyril's blood flow the rest of the way through, Machus waited for the first fine jet of red fluid to spurt from the second needle; then he skillfully jabbed it into Cyrus's vein, where the life-giving plasma from Cyril would do its work.
Sister Aurelia furrowed her brow, still dubious about the whole thing. "How will we know not to take too much blood from Cyril?"
"That's where a little educated guesswork comes into play." Machus turned to Cyril. "You must tell us at once if you begin to feel weak or dizzy, or just plain tired. Don't try to be a hero; you're that already. We have one gravely ill mouse on our paws. We don't need another."
Cyril gave in to the fox's commanding tone, dispelling any notion he might have entertained about disobeying. "I understand, sir."
"Good lad. I should be able to judge for myself the right time to remove the needles, but I've never attempted this with two so young. Abbess, will you please send for a tray of sweets from the kitchen? Fruit cordial, candied nuts, glazed biscuits, cake - anything that has a lot of sweetness to it. Cyril will need such fare when we are done. It helps the body recover and make new blood to replace what has been lost ... and I suspect Cyril will not want to leave his brother to go downstairs for this."
"I'll see to it at once. Monty, could you please tend to that?"
"Right away, Nessa." The otter Skipper nodded and ducked out of the Infirmary.
By the time Monty returned from the kitchens with a laden tray, Machus had withdrawn the needles from both young brothers, estimating that enough blood had been transferred to Cyrus to do the job, if the mouse was to be saved at all. The needle holes were quickly bandaged, then the younger brother was covered with a light blanket.
Cyril sat up on his bed, rolling his habit sleeve down over his smarting elbow. He did feel a bit lightheaded, but not as much as he'd expected after giving Cyrus enough blood to make a difference. He looked across at his brother, but Cyrus still appeared as deathly as before. "Do you think it worked, Machus sir?"
"Too soon to tell. But we've done everything now that could be done, and you must look after yourself. Here, take some of this food."
"Oh, I couldn't. I'm much too nervous."
"I'd strongly advise you to eat something, even if you have to force yourself. A tumbler of fruit juice, if nothing else."
At this friendly urging, Cyril did help himself to a cup of strawberry fizz and a honey-frosted cherry turnover. As he nibbled and sipped halfheartedly, not really tasting the sweet fare, Machus prepared two small vials, each fitted with another of his hollow needles at one end and a sort of plunger at the other. Holding them up to Aurelia and Vanessa, he said, "This medicine will help the new blood blend with the old more easily, and this medicine will help fight off infections. It's the last of what I can do - after this, it's up to fate." That said, he stuck the needle of first one vial then the other into Cyrus's shoulder, forcing the fluids through the needles and into Cyrus by pushing down on the plungers.
Machus hastily and efficiently packed up his medical kit, leaving a few of the bloody devices aside to be properly washed and sterilized later. "If you will please excuse me, Abbess, there's something else to which I must attend now."
"I think I know what you are referring to. We are very grateful for what you have done here, Machus. If Cyrus pulls through, we will owe you a tremendous debt."
Machus was unsmiling. "This should not have happened. This is my fault, and I take responsibility for it. My soldiers behaved like barbarians, but they are my soldiers nevertheless, and their actions are a reflection upon me. I cannot undo what has been done, but I can prevent such a thing from ever happening again." He turned and strode grimly from the Infirmary.