She surveyed the battlefield. There were corpses of the foul creatures everywhere. They bled surprisingly little compared to normal humans, but red still splashed foliage and rocks throughout the clearing. It wasn’t a clearing when the battle started. It was a space between trees filled with bushes and other small plants, but those had all been trampled or cut in the melee.
“Are you okay, Nal?” Sam asked as he limped up to her. She could see three parallel gashes on his right leg, obviously made by the claws of one of the bhorgabir. Nasty creatures indeed.
“I am well,” she said. “How are you? Are you injured badly?”
“No,” he responded, “just a few nicks and scratches. I’m satisfied, considering what we’ve just been through.”
The others were moving as well. Ix and Rindu walked toward where she and Sam stood with Emerius, who was scanning the bodies to see if any were still alive to ambush them when they were no longer wary. Any he found, he finished by plunging his long knife into their over-large eyes. She did not have it within her to stop him.
The rakkeben were sniffing around for survivors as well. Shonyb found one, and all three of the wolves set upon it and tore it to shreds. The lupine creatures all had injuries as well, though none that were too serious. Oro had some gashes, but seemed lazy and ready for a nap, as he always seemed—except during the battle. His ferocity was fearful when the fighting was hottest. The manu bird wandered nearby, oblivious of the nearness of death for it and its rider.
“Well,” Ix said, “that was…interesting. Do you think there are any more of them? Other than that one that just got away, I mean.”
“It surprises me that there were this many to begin with,” Rindu said. “Who could have thought that creatures created during the Great War would still be around in such numbers?”
“I don’t know,” Sam said. “There seem to be a lot of the riati, so why not these too?”
“That is a valid point, Sam,” Rindu said.
“I wonder what other things there are from the Great War that we haven’t met yet,” Sam said. “These were bad enough. Are there worse things? If so, when are they going to come after us?”
“That is something to think about another time,” Nalia said. “For now, I believe we should return to Whitehall to dress our wounds and rest for tomorrow’s journey. We are not done yet. Chetra Dal still seeks the last artifact, and we must obtain it before he does.”
“I hate to suggest this,” Sam said, “but I think we should leave this area before I learn the location we will return to tomorrow. I don’t like the thought of returning to this spot and being ambushed by others who may have not been included in today’s battle. Besides, there will probably be a lot of wild animals here tomorrow, eating the corpses. I’d just as soon not fight them, too.”
“Sam’s right,” Ix said. “As much as I don’t want to do it, we should put in a few miles before leaving.”
“Eighteen.” Emerius said as he limped up to the others. “That’s how many there were, aside from the one that got away. I just counted them. Twice. That sounds like it should be all of them, though it’s hard to tell because they were so spread outwhen I tried to count them earlier.”
The hunter had a broken off arrow in his left thigh, another in his left calf, and was bleeding in several other locations where arrows had grazed him. He looked a mess. He picked up on the mood of the others. “What did I miss? What’s going on?”
“We just realized we have to leave the area, get some distance away before we stop and teleport back to Whitehall,” Ix said.
“Yeah,” the hunter sighed, “that sounds right. We don’t want to pop back here tomorrow morning in the middle of packs of scavengers fighting over food.”
Ix winked at Sam, which caused Nalia to glare at the woman.
“It is decided, then,” Rindu said. “It is said, ‘the hardest step is the first one.’ Let us begin.”
Emerius needed help to get onto Oro’s back. The rakkeben were sound enough to be ridden, but only Sam mounted. Nalia’s scratches and cuts did not interfere with her walking, and Rindu had surprisingly few wounds. Nalia marveled once again at her father. An entire clan of bhorgabir could not injure the man. Ix had few injuries, too, no doubt because of her ability to teleport away from danger. To be fair, however, the assassin was skilled at combat. Nalia knew this from personal experience. Ix had done her part in the battle, though she could have teleported away. She was not a coward.
The party traveled for a long two hours. Nalia saw Sam and Emerius wince and heard them grunt occasionally when their mounts crossed over a difficult patch of forest. Her own cuts stung as she moved, but she ignored them. Pain was an old friend to her.
Sam finally brought them to a halt. “Do you think this is far enough?” he asked no one in particular. Each of the others traded glances but said nothing. “Emerius?”
The hunter’s face had become pale. They had not removed the arrows still in him, wanting to wait until they could stop the bleeding more effectively and keep the wounds from getting infected. He nodded to Sam. “This should be good,” he whispered, not able to draw up the strength for a normal volume.
“Okay, good.” Sam slid off Shonyb and grunted as his landing jarred his leg. They had bandaged it to stop the bleeding but did nothing else to treat it. “Give me a few minutes to learn this area, and then we’ll go home.”
It took almost fifteen minutes for Sam to learn the area. Nalia thought it was probably because the pain and blood loss weakened his focus. She wished she could help, but it was something only he could do. Ix had offered to teleport them all back to Whitehall, but though not as injured as Sam, she was so fatigued she had to cling to her manu bird to keep from falling. If she had tried to bring them all back to the fortress, she may not have survived the attempt. At least, that was what Sam claimed. Nalia thought he was probably correct.
Once he signaled to them, they all gathered around him and he teleported them back to Whitehall. First would be healing, then rest. Sam had been gathering herbs during their travels when he happened upon them. Thanks to Inoria’s teachings, he knew enough to create a respectable stockpile of analgesic and antiseptic herbs back at Whitehall. Hopefully they could travel the next day, but that remained to be seen. It was enough that they were still all alive. The other things could be worked out.
When they appeared in their normal teleportation spot, Dr. Walt and Lahim Chode were waiting for them. “There is something we need to discuss right away. It’s an emergency.”
Sam had barely noticed the men when Emerius stumbled and started to fall. Sam caught the hunter, ducking under his arm to support him. The big man’s head lolled toward Sam, and his eyelids fluttered over green eyes. He had lost a lot of blood and was weak.
Dr. Walt stopped speaking as soon as Emerius fell. His eyes became progressively wider, his bushy white eyebrows climbing up his forehead, as he noticed the injuries on each of the others as well.
“Oh, no,” Lahim Chode said. “It happened already. I was too late.”
Sam didn’t pay any attention to the man. He felt weak himself and was having a hard time holding Emerius upright. “We need to get him to a bed right now,” Sam said.
“Yes, yes of course,” Dr. Walt said. “Here, let me help.” He got on the other side of the hunter and supported him as Sam was doing. They walked as quickly as they could toward the keep.
“Stop,” Ix shouted. Sam and Dr. Walt both paused and looked at her.
She came up next to them. “I can teleport him right to his room. Well, near it anyway, to my room. Then we can walk him to his. It will be much quicker.”
“Yes, good idea,” Sam said. “Thank you.”
Ix edged out Dr. Walt and put Emerius’s arm around her shoulders. It made for an interesting sight because the hunter was a good foot taller than her. “Ready?” she asked Sam.
“Yes.”
“I will bring a healer to his room,” Dr. Walt said. “I’ll be there
as soon as I can.”
Ix only nodded, and then Sam felt the familiar feeling of displacement that always accompanied her teleportation. It was different than what he felt with his own traveling. He wondered if it was because he was not the one actually causing it to happen or if it felt different to everyone. He’d have to ask Nalia.
They appeared in Ix’s room. They headed out the door and down the hall to the room Emerius used. He tried to help, to walk, but his legs buckled. He was muttering something unintelligible, but Sam only picked out a few words here and there. “Inoria,” “Ancha,” and “not yet” were the only ones Sam could understand.
Because of their relative heights, Sam had to do the majority of the work in supporting Emerius. Ix helped how she could, but was too small to get the leverage to do much. Still, they got to Emerius’s room and got him settled onto his bed.
“Water,” the hunter croaked.
Ix grabbed a pitcher from the nightstand near his bed and poured water into a cup for him. He tried to grab it, but didn’t seem to be able to control his arms well enough to do so. Instead, Ix tipped the cup to his mouth and let some of the liquid trickle into his mouth. He took several gulps and then turned his head, closing his eyes and sighing.
Sam felt Emerius’s forehead. “He’s getting warm. I think some of his wounds are already starting to get infected. The herbs can’t work with the arrows still in his leg. I hope the healer gets here soon. He can take the arrows out.”
Ix looked from Sam to Emerius, letting her gaze linger on the two arrows in his leg. “There is something I’ve been practicing, something that might help.”
“What is it?” Sam asked.
“I think I can control my ability enough to teleport myself and the arrow away. It’ll be less shock to his body if we don’t have to yank them from him.”
Sam considered. He’d never thought of using teleportation like that. “Are you sure it’s safe? Won’t you just teleport him along with it since the arrow is inside him?”
“I think I can do it without moving him,” Ix said. “The thought occurred to me a week ago, and I’ve been practicing it a little bit each night. I’ve had success in selecting one or two things that are touching each other but not me and only bringing those I choose with me when I teleport.”
“I guess it’s worth a try. Even the healer can only rip the arrows out of him. That can’t be good for all the tissue in there.”
“Okay,” the assassin said. “Hold onto him. I’m not sure if this will hurt or not.”
She waited for Sam to get a grip on Emerius. He nodded to her when he was ready. Ix grasped the broken arrow in the hunter’s thigh, holding it carefully to keep from touching him. A look of concentration came to her face, and then she disappeared. The arrow was gone with her. Emerius grunted in pain.
Ix appeared again almost instantly next to where she had been, holding half an arrow shaft half covered with blood. The tip was a sharp triangle. Sam winced when he thought of pulling the projectile out of Emerius’s leg. There would have been more damage from that than it did going in.
The assassin said nothing, only grabbed hold of the arrow in the hunter’s calf. She disappeared again, along with the arrow, and then reappeared holding it up for Sam to see.
“That was great,” Sam said, releasing the man and digging into the pouch at his belt. He chewed up the herbs he had collected to make a pulpy compress and placed them over the arrow holes.
“Can you shred some of the blanket to make a dressing?” Sam asked Ix. “The holes started bleeding when you removed the shafts.”
Ix took out one of her ring daggers and in no time had bandages wrapped around the leg holding the compress to the wounds and slowing the bleeding. Sam took the opportunity to put more of the chewed-up herbs on the hunter’s other wounds. He rinsed his mouth with water from the pitcher and spit it out in the basin.
“Yuck,” he said. “Foul tasting stuff.”
“Then why did you chew it?” Ix asked.
“I had to. It needed to be crushed up and pulpy. That’s the most effective way without specialized tools. Inoria taught me that. I hope I haven’t swallowed too much of it, or I may get sick sometime soon.”
Ix patted Sam’s arm. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”
Dr. Walt burst through the door, breathing heavily. Right on his heels was an older woman. She was heavyset and wore her gray hair wrapped up in a tight bun. Sam wasn’t sure what impressed him more—that Dr. Walt ran as fast as he must have run to get there so quickly, or that the woman did.
“This is Marge Tousin,” Dr. Walt panted. “She’s one of the healers who have offered their services to the new government.”
She pushed Sam aside and went straight to Emerius, searching his body for wounds. She dropped her bag to the floor as she did it.
“Where are the arrows?” she said in a voice that seemed used to people obeying it. “I was told there were two arrows.”
“I took them out,” Ix said. “Teleported out, not yanked.”
“I see.” The woman eyed Ix, shrugged, and then turned her attention back to Emerius. “You have put feverbane on the wounds. Very good. Your work again?” she asked Ix.
“Nope. That was him.”
The woman finally noticed who she had pushed aside. “Oh.” Her eyes had gone wide and her hands busied themselves in brushing off her dress. “Master Sharp. I didn’t see you there. My apologies. I—”
“It’s fine,” Sam said. “Can you do something for him? We gave him water and dressed his wounds, but he feels like he’s getting a fever.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” the woman said, regaining a bit of her composure. “Leave it to me. He’ll be all right. I’ll take care of everything.” She picked up her sack and started rifling through it, taking out jars and packets. It seemed like she had completely forgotten again that anyone else was in the room. Sam backed away to let her work. Ix and Dr. Walt did the same.
When they got near the door, Sam saw Rindu and Nalia. He hadn’t heard them at all. For all he knew, they arrived the same time as the other, noisier two.
“How is Emerius?” Rindu asked softly.
“I think he’ll be okay,” Sam said. “He lost some blood, and his wounds are starting to get infected, but I put some herbs on them and the healer is taking care of him.”
“Perhaps we may be of assistance,” another voice said. Sam saw that Torim Jet, Palusa Filk, and the two Brothers of the Rohw were coming up the hallway. It was Brother Dilkin who had spoken.
“Thank you,” Sam said, “but I think Marge has it under control.”
The two brothers bowed their heads but said nothing.
“Sam,” Torim Jet said. “You may want to let them do what they can. Remember, they have unique abilities for healing, ones I would very much like to see put into practice again.”
“Okay, let’s give it a try.” Sam turned to Marge, who was busy lifting Emerius’s eyelids to look deeply into his eyes. “Marge, Brother Dilkin here is going to use some of his rohw magic on Emerius to try to aid in your treatment.”
The woman’s eyes lit up and she looked as if she was going to argue, but then obviously decided she should not do so with the Hero of Gythe. She nodded and stepped aside.
“Actually,” Brother Dilkin said, “Brother Mosian will perform the healing. He has a stronger ability with it than I. Brother.” He gestured toward the hunter.
Brother Mosian stepped up to the bed and inspected Emerius. Taking a deep breath, he settled into a sort of relaxed stance, feet parallel, knees slightly bent. The healer frowned, and Torim Jet leaned a little closer.
The brother held both hands out in front of him, gracefully flowing into movements so complex Sam could hardly follow them. They didn’t seem to be separate motions, but one long continuous one that flowed like kelp Sam had seen underwater when he had snorkeled. Sam felt his eyes grow heavy, as if he was being hypnotized by the gyrations.
Torim Jet had leaned even f
urther forward, as had Rindu. Both were staring intently at Brother Mosian’s hands. Marge Tousin had settled back to lean against a wall, arms crossed in front of her. The others watched almost as intently as the Zouyim. Light began building from the brother’s softly glowing hands.
As he moved through the hand motions, Sam realized where he had seen something like this before. Rindu had shown him how hand movements in the air could trace out characters in that odd ancient language, Syray. He thought maybe that was what Mosian was doing. The glow continued to increase.
When Brother Mosian completed the hand gestures he had been performing, he lowered his palms—now shining brightly to Sam’s rohw-sensitive sight—to Emerius’s left leg. The glow traveled from Mosian’s hands to the leg, surrounding it and going within it. Emerius grunted and twitched.
The energy coming off the brother’s hands sank into the leg, especially the wounds themselves, and there was a kind of flash. It reminded Sam of something being neutralized. The light changed from pure white to a dull orange and then dissipated. Mosian continued applying energy to other wounded areas and then finally onto the hunter’s head itself. When he waved his hands over Emerius’s forehead, the man tensed once, then relaxed, face going slack as his breathing became easier, the regular breathing of sleep.
Brother Mosian stepped back and made a few motions with his hands, pointing his fingers down toward the floor. Sam wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw energy leaking out of his hands and dissipating into the room.
Mosian took a sharp breath and then his shoulders slumped. When he looked Sam in the eyes, he looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in days.
“I have removed the infection and have begun the tissues knitting themselves. He will rest easy now. After a good night’s sleep, he will be able to move around, though I wouldn’t recommend battle.” He laughed, but seeing that no one else did, cut it short.
“Thank you, Brother Mosian,” Brother Dilkin said.
Sam was sure that the Zouyim and Nalia had seen the glowing rohw being used, but even without that, the abrupt change in Emerius’s breathing was sign enough that something had happened. Marge shouldered her way to the bed and began looking over her patient. After listening to his heart, peering into his eyes—she had to lift his eyelids to do it—and feeling him for fever, she looked dumbstruck.
Harmonic Magic Series Boxed Set Page 112
