While outside, the other orderlies were busy tending to the wounded, only one woman had been designated to watch over Maggie in the tent—exactly as Tonar had demanded.
Elisa hadn't come. The last time they had spoken, the exchange had ended badly, and despite all the pride she could display, a strange bitterness remained in Maggie's heart, a dull ache at the thought that Elisa would choose absence at such a crucial moment.
The woman was methodically preparing her remedy. She was crushing thick leaves and roots with a pungent aroma between two stones, a mixture that gave off such a strong odor that Maggie almost gagged. Pinned to the ground, unable to turn her head, she stared at the ceiling, passively enduring these strange herbal smells she knew nothing about.
