Goodie sat in the medicine woman’s lodge in the Lower Cherokee Town of Chagee, the first in the trade route north. Castor and his wolf sat with her and Avarice as they listened to her explain Armie’s condition.
The young mother looked at them and said, “Flesh rot has set up in his wound.”
“What can you do?” Castor asked.
“Not much,” she replied. “The wound is in his side and eating at his liver.” She looked at Goodie and said, “He may die.”
“NO!” Goodie said. “No! You will heal him with Avarice’s help.”
“I can’t,” she answered quietly.