8. Lash and Blood
Cassandra had been in the hospital since early morning. Dr. Robinson wasn’t always there; sometimes he was called to the stables, to tend sick cows, sheep, and horses. She was waiting for Eric while putting a bandage on the paw of the wolf cub and singing under her breath:
“As I went out one May morning2,
One May morning betime,
I met a maid from home had strayed,
Just as the sun did shine
“What makes you rise so soon, my dear,
Your journey to pursue?
Your pretty little feet they tread so sweet,
Strike off the morning dew.”
Cassandra became silent when she heard someone enter the hospital. Next second, Eric peeped at the cub over her shoulder.
“Can I help you with him?” He collected the used syringe and pieces of bandage from the table.
“We’re done. Now we need to wait for a few days and take him back to the woods.”
“Should I take him to the ward?”
“Yes, please.”
Eric wrapped his arms around the cub and paced to the ward. Cassandra went back to singing under her breath while washing the flasks and vials.
“How gloriously the sun doth shine,
How pleasant is the air;
I'd rather rest on my true love's breast
Than any other where.
“For I am thine and thou art mine
No man shall uncomfort thee.
We'll join our hands in wedded bands
And a-married we shall be.”
She heard footsteps again and said with a smile, “Problems in the ward?” Then she turned around and stood petrified. It wasn’t Eric. Dickens McCormack was standing before her, with a black German shepherd in his hands. Cassandra blanched. Dickens didn’t seem pleased with her presence either. He frowned at her, then looked around the room, and was about to turn to the door, when Cassandra said, “What’s wrong with the dog?”
“Where’s Dr. Robinson?”
“He’s not here, and if the dog needs help, I’ll take care of him.”
“I’ll wait for the vet.”
Cassandra felt relieved when Eric stepped in. “What are you doing here?” he asked, and approaching Cassandra, whispered to her, “Did he insult you?”
She shook her head. “The dog needs help.”
“Then why won’t he put him on the table so that you can have a look?”
“I’ll wait for the vet.”
“Just leave the dog and get out. We’ll take care of him.”
Dickens smirked. “I wouldn’t even trust you to clean my boots, let alone touch my dog.”
Eric would’ve hit him if Cassandra hadn’t grabbed his hand. “Please,” she whispered, “he’s provoking you. Don't go down to his level.”
Eric stepped back. “So, will you let us see what the problem is? Dr. Robinson is away. That dog must have a serious problem if you’ve brought him here. Are you going to let him suffer ‘cause you can’t get off your high horse?”
Without a word Dickens put the dog on the table.
“Poor thing,” Cassandra said, examining the wound on the dog’s belly. “Who has done this to him?”
“Just take care of him and ask no more,” Dickens muttered.
“Just get out and wait outside.”
Dickens stared at Eric without blinking. “I’ll wait here.”
Dr. Robinson returned while Cassandra was putting stitches on the dog. He examined the wound, then told her she could go out. “Go breathe some fresh air,” he said, looking covertly at Dickens McCormack. “I’ll finish it.”
Cassandra eagerly obeyed. Being so close to a McCormack was always disconcerting. At least Eric was near, she was thinking, looking around the street. The weather was gloomy. Though it wasn’t raining, the sky was grey, dark clouds had gathered above, and a cool wind was blowing and waving her hair. The morning had been brighter, and she wasn’t dressed warm enough for the cool afternoon, but she preferred staying out in the cold rather than going back to the hospital while the McCormack was still there. She was just recovering from the unpleasant feeling his presence had caused her when the sheriff drove his open carriage down the street. Cassandra examined the mask over the half of his face, wondering what was beneath it, and why Sheriff De Roy always carried that angry look.
In the middle of the road something happened to the sheriff’s horse: it stopped and refused to move. Sheriff hit the reins several times, but the horse didn't budge. Then De Roy took his whip and lashed the horse. It neighed in agony and still didn’t stir. Sheriff whipped him again and again, but the horse, whinnying aloud, wouldn’t move. When De Roy lashed his horse once again, Cassandra ran to the carriage and tried to take the whip out of his hand.
“He’s scared of something, no need to whip him like that!” she cried out, grabbing the haft of the whip.
De Roy shoved her back, and when she made another attempt, the whip whistled in the air and stung her shoulder. Cassandra shrieked and collapsed across the road. De Roy raised his hand, and when she tried to get up, he lashed her once more.
“Damned witch!”
The whip rose again. She heard how it thrashed the flesh, but didn’t feel pain this time. Then she heard Eric wince, and felt his body over hers. Peering into the alley from under his arm she saw the passersby gape at them. When De Roy was about to hit again, some of the townsfolk at last recovered their senses enough to react, ran to the carriage, and tried to stop him. The horse began kicking and trying to get free. Still covered by Eric, Cassandra closed her eyes and clenched her fingers into a fist, chanting a spell under her breath. The harness broke and crashed to the ground.
“Run, Jupiter!” she shouted, and the horse darted away.
The horse’s escape angered the sheriff so much that he prepared to send another blow into Eric and Cassandra, but Eric managed to grab her by the shoulders and pull her back. The whip shrilled and hit the side of the carriage. Eric and Cassandra hurried back into the hospital, and to their luck De Roy didn’t follow them.