The smell of the salty sea air was masked by the smell of mildew and aging mead. It was an odor so strong it made Angie gag. Did they really expect her to lay there the whole voyage back to Araluen? She was going to have to talk to someone about this; it was not going to happen.
Will had tied her broken arm to her chest, binding the whole arm beneath the bandages keeping her ribs in the correct position as they mended. Her broken leg, which was more of a nuisance than an actual pain, had a brand new splint that stretched from her hip all the way down to her ankle pressing in on three sides. Will had also deemed it necessary to remove her boots and stockings from both feet so he could easily check that she could still move her toes.
The healer had said the danger for that was past. She had grown accustomed to the ache of the mending bones which was why she had stopped complaining about it. But Will was being overly protective and did not believe it for a moment. Every time he had been to check on her in the last three days he had checked to make sure she could wiggle her toes and move her foot in a small circle, which hurt more than Angie liked.
And then they stuffed her in the hold of the wolfship to sail home, with explicit instructions: "Do not get up, or attempt to get up." Angie had never been one to follow rules, and certainly not the kind that trapped her in a dank, smelly hull for a week.
But Will had obviously been expecting some form of retaliation. He stuck her in a hammock. And as nice as that felt while she was sleeping, which she did entirely too often in her opinion, she could not roll out of the stupid thing.
She knew most they were still in the harbor at Hallasholm. They still had to give formal farewells to the jarls and the newly elected Oberjarl. Hal had helped Angie onto the ship that day, giving her his formal thanks for saving his life. He even said she was always welcome in Hallasholm and could conscript any wolfship at anytime for assistance. Oberjarls had the authority to give outsiders that kind of privilege. He had also unofficially adopted the Ranger apprentice.
Will had told her he would be back once they were underway to hone in on a few skills. Angie suspected it would be history, strategy, cartography, or some other boring thing which she normally avoided by engaging in other tasks. And since Will was not there, they had not set sail. That gave Angie time to escape and prove that she could do something besides lay in a hammock the whole trip home.
And it was starting with getting out of that hammock.
She swung the hammock back and forth trying to dislodge her splinted leg from the folds of the canvas. If only both of her arms were free, she would already be hobbling her way back up to the deck. It was another ploy by the bearded Ranger. He was determined to keep her below deck.
She was swinging wildly with her leg fully wrapped in the extra canvas at the foot of the hammock with no hopes of escape when Will entered the room. He took everything in and traded his smile for a frown and arched brow in two seconds, crossing his arms over his chest.
"What are you doing?"
"Attempting to untangle this monstrosity from the hammock," Angie grunted motioning with her free hand to the splint. "I'm tired of lying around."
"You broke that leg in two places, you need to let it heal," Will responded, freeing Angie's foot from the extra canvas.
"It's in a box that stretches all the way up my leg," Angie complained knocking against the pine box that contained her healing limb. "And I stood on it while we were in Hallasholm."
"You shouldn't have," Will responded, "can you still move your toes?"
Angie made a face, feigning concentration while holding her foot perfectly still. Will watched her face carefully. When Angie did not move her foot, and failed to release the wrinkled expression of fake concentration he sighed.
"I'm being serious."
"I could move them last time you saw me, and that really wasn't that long go even though it feel like I've been down here for days!" Angie glowered at the Ranger. "And I can move my fingers too, even though you tried to bury them in these bandages, thanks for asking."
Will sighed.
" And I can't swing in this thing the whole trip back to Araluen; I'll get seasick!" she continued ignoring the look incredulous look he was cast her.
"Doubtful," Will ran his gloved finger down the center of Angie's foot. She giggled, wiggling her toes and trying to move her foot out of his reach.
"Stop," she squealed involuntarily trying to reach up to smack her mentor's hand away. She instantly regretted the sudden movements, her sides ached and she found it difficult to breath once again. She was getting frustrated by her limitations, and Will was just adding to them.
"Good, everything seems to be healing properly," Will moved away from Angie's foot, which she was thankful for, and came to stand at her side, watching her breathing. "How deep of a breath can you take?"
"I can't," she wheezed gently massaging her bandaged rib cage. "You broke it again," she groaned when her forefinger pressed one of the bruises on her side.
"Don't be so melodramatic," Will was being stern. Her rarely joked with her anymore, Angie missed that. This serious Ranger was not the person she had come to know over the summer. She wanted that Will back, this new one was overbearing. "How deeply can you breathe?" he asked again.
Angie took as deep of a breath as she dared, which was not much compared to her former lung capacity. Once she had expanded her rib cage as far as she could her face contorted in pain, she gasped, rubbing her bruised sides once again. She wiggled her fingers on her right hand, trying to free it from the bandages.
"Can you please free my arm, it didn't do anything," she complained, knowing Will was satisfied with how well she was healed based on her degrees of pain.
"I don't want it getting hurt again."
"I'm trapped in a canvas hammock, what am I going to hit besides myself?" Angie huffed.
Will raised his left brow looking down at her. She glared at him, knowing she could not mimic the look in her anger. She was prepared to have this fight all day, every day while they were sailing across the Stormwhite. So was Will.
"We all know what's going to happen if I free that arm," Will finally answered. And by "we" Angie knew Will meant the entire wolfship. She also knew all of them were going to return her to that hammock the moment she freed herself.
For some it might have been a reason to accept their fate. It was just making Angie even more determined to get up. The healer said she was on the mend, why was Will so determined to give her bedsores?
"How can I do anything?" she exclaimed quickly. "My leg is in a box getting tangled in all the extra material at the end of the dumb hammock!" She pumped her right leg up and down to emphasize the point. It took no time at all for the box to become entangled once again. "Now free my hand!"
"No," it was the closest Will had ever come to yelling at Angie. If she was frightened by the increase in volume, it did not show. It was as if she knew he was loud due to concern, and was unfazed by it. "I am not going to allow you to hurt yourself."
"I'm not going to hurt myself," she shouted in return. "I just want to sit on the deck, watch Horace beat Johnny to a pulp and watch Borak make Johnny row the ship with the crew and listen to Nils talk about his campaigns. All I'm going to get here is seasick and bedsores!"
"And you won't get hurt," Will lowered his voice again. He managed to control his emotions looking at the enraged apprentice. He could not stand for her to get hurt again, he could not stand the pain it caused him. And if angering her was the only way to ensure that safety until she was fully healed, he was prepared to hear everything she could yell about.
She huffed, her left arm dropping across her chest. She would have been crossing her arms if her right hand was not trapped in the bandages. Her inability to perform that simple gesture enraged her further. "I'm not going to take this lying down."
"You are," Will stated crossing his own arms. "And you're going to take it laying down until we reach Castle Araluen and a healer checks you out again. Then you're going to take it lying down until the healer at Castle Redmont says you're fully healed."
"That could be months," she shouted, her sides beginning to burn. She barred her teeth at the sudden heat that rushed up her neck to her face, anger and pain mixing dangerously. Her whole body tensed, her right leg recoiling and the left hand scrambling to reach her necklace.
"Angie," Will bent down over her. "What happened, what hurts?"
She hissed straightening her leg slowly and trying to turn on her side. "I need it," she gasped turning her head toward Will.
Will stared down at her. It had been almost a day since she had needed the warmweed. After the first day, Will had only allowed small doses throughout the day, he regulated the amounts to make sure Angie did not become addicted. Her last dose had been the night before when they had retired for the night. He thought she could make it through the day, they were more than halfway through it. Apparently angering her was not best.
He retrieved the store of warmweed he had stashed in the hull with Angie's gear. He had refused to bring a large supply, for his own health and Angie's. With every dose he knew she would need more for the effects to work, with each growing dose she would require more just to ease her pain. She would become a husk like he had. Will was not going to allow that.
He gave her a small pinch, one of the smallest he had every giving her. She took it eagerly, shoving the plant into her mouth. Her breathing did not settle as it normally did, her muscles remained tensed.
"More," she gasped reaching out for Will. "Please," she begged, her eyes locking on Will's.
Will stared down at her, wanting to give her more of the warmweed to ease her pain and at the same time wanting to withhold the addictive substance. Why had the pain suddenly flared? It had not been this bad anytime that Will had seen her. And she had not even done anything, he had made sure that she was unable to move or jar anything.
"Please," she gasped taking a firm hold on his hand, taking hold of him like an anchor. He was her anchor, he was responsible for her safety and well being. And that was why he could not give her more of the warmweed.
"I'm sorry," he brushed her hair back. "You can't have anymore."
Angie recoiled again, her body tensing and thrashing. He could see she was in pain, he wanted to help her. But she could not take more of the warmweed, Will was sure of that.
She said nothing else, seeing that Will was not going to give her more of the drug. She clung to Will's hand while the pain crippled her. Will tried to keep track of how long it had been, how long could he watch before he had to give her more of the warmweed? Was he wrong to deprive of the plant while her injury was still so recent?
It felt like hours had passed when Will gave her more warmweed and Angie slipped in to a fitful sleep. He was physically exhausted by the time he finally freed his hand from Angie's grasp and stumbled up the stairs to the main deck where, as Angie had predicted, Borak had Johnny at a turn with the rowing crew.
Will joined Horace and Maddie at the tiller with the skirl, rubbing his face with both hands.
"What happened?" Horace asked.
Will shook his head, the sky was darkening as the sun sunk toward the horizon. He had spent a good part of the day with Angie, watching her suffer. "I can't keep doing this," he muttered sinking down the sit on the deck. "Someone else will have to check on her."
"What happened?" Maddie sunk down next to Will.
"I can't do it anymore," he repeated shaking his head. "One of you will have to go check on her."