Chapter 66POV: Arthur"Hold still," said the old woman. "If you wriggle, I will tie you to the bed.""I am not wriggling," Elena said. "The bed is wriggling.""The bed is a bed. You have a fever."We had drifted for two hours before Corvin steered the ferry into a quiet bend, where a small cottage sat among the willows with one lantern burning at its door. The woman who opened it was tiny and bent, with white hair in a braid down to her knees and sleeves rolled to her elbows. She took one look at Elena, swore in a language I did not know, and pointed at a bed.Her name was Nan Orla, and she had been the river healer for fifty years. She did not ask a single question. She only said, "Everyone out except the boy," and rolled up her sleeves even higher."Why the boy?" Draven asked."Because she keeps saying his name," said Nan Orla.So I stayed. I sat beside the bed and held a bowl of hot water, and I watched the old woman's quick brown hands. She cut the arrow shaft, packed the wound w
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