A miracle had come to the bridge and Stefan was relieved to see it.
But the elder man was far more concerned with Stefan's injury than he was with resting and boldly walked to where he sat. He carefully pulled the back of Stefan's tunic out of his belt and looked at the injury. "Tis not so bad," he whispered, even though it was obviously going to leave a horrible scar. The elder was afraid to say more and sorely wanted to thank the lad, but his nod and a prayer would have to do. He found a rock, sat down and closed his eyes.
All the men exchanged glances from time to time and waited. They did not mind. Sitting down was a luxury and they basked in it. But then the commander and two more guards returned with medicine, blankets and soap.
"Where might the food be?" chastised the monk.
"'Tis the Sabbath, the…" At the Monk's fierce glare, the commander again turned and rode away.
At last, the ample monk lifted his leg over, held on to the horn of the saddle and slid down, nearly falling to the ground before he got his balance. More annoyed than embarrassed, he straightened his robe, fiddled with the rope around his middle and tied the reins of his mule to a tree. "Take off yer clothing, lads. Ye've naught to show me I have not seen afore."
He nodded for one of the guards to help him and walked down the line handing out the blankets and the soap. There was not enough soap, he decided, and handed a bar to every other man instead. But each got a blanket and as they began to disrobe, their sore feet together with other sores on their bodies horrified him. "'Tis a sad day when Scots treat lads such as this. The Good Book says an enslaved lad's sores will be tended and they well know it."
Some were new sayings for Stefan, he was pretty sure the good book did not say all that, and he almost smiled as he took off all his clothing and stepped into the water. Water…he did not remember how good it felt and even though it was cold, he welcomed it. He welcomed it until he waded out far enough for the water to touch his wound. Even so, he gathered his courage and his breath, submerged and let the river clean weeks of soil off his body. When he came up for air, the old man was beside him handing him the soap.
If nothing more, Stefan had a friend and he was pleased. He rubbed soap all over his hair and body, and then motioned for the old man to turn around so he could rub the soap on the elder's back. He handed it back, submerged again to rinse off and then started to grab his clothing off the rock to wash them. But the old man already had them and with his eyes, was telling Stefan it was his way of showing his appreciation.