Raithe’s left arm was broken, his shield a crumpled mess. Malcolm, who survived the battle without a scratch, had helped him back inside, and the two collapsed near the steps in the lower courtyard. Dying of thirst, battered and bruised, Raithe was surprised to hear cheering. All around them in the courtyard, up on the parapet on the surrounding battlements, and from the windows, people were shouting, hooting, hugging each other, and praising the return of the bloody mess of men.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “I thought we lost.”
“Maybe not,” Malcolm said. “We are alive, after all.”
“Looked like that hurt,” said Tesh as he rushed up with a bucket of water and a cup.
Raithe regretted every bad thing he’d ever said to the boy. The kid knew exactly what was needed. Splashing his face with his good arm, he relished the cool water. It made him sigh and wonder if he ought to just dump the whole thing over his head. He might have if both arms had worked. Instead, he took the cup and drank. “Saw it, did you?”
“Was with the rest up on the parapet.”
“I suppose you would have dodged or done some fantastic back flip, or blocked the blow somehow.”
Tesh thought a moment. “I’m not sure there is a way to block a sledgehammer the size of a house.”
The kid was smiling, a big wide grin. Raithe took a moment to understand. He’s proud of me—proud and relieved. Raithe hadn’t seen that before, certainly not in his father’s eyes. For the first time, he caught a glimpse of what he meant to Tesh. The kid he’d allowed to share his fire under the wool, the wild animal he’d tamed with discarded bones, had latched onto him more deeply than he’d believed possible.
“Now you went and did it, didn’t you?” Padera hobbled over with a bag slung on one shoulder. “Broke that arm good.” She set the bag down and pulled out boards and cloth straps. As she did, a smile formed.
“Why is everyone so happy?” Raithe asked. “Have the elves left?”
The old woman shook her head. “You didn’t die.”
Malcolm and Raithe exchanged looks.
“Doesn’t seem cheer-worthy,” Raithe replied as he struggled to put his back to the stone wall near the steps.
Tesh laughed. The kid was giddy enough to be drunk. The moment the thought appeared, Raithe wanted beer. Dear Mari, a foaming cup would be marvelous.
Padera pointed toward the front gate where worn, weary, and blood-covered men were still dragging themselves in. “This is the first clash. The first time men have ever fought Fhrey. No one knew what would happen.”
Tesh was nodding emphatically. “Nyphron himself—he was standing next to me on the parapet—he said, ‘This will decide it all.’ Even he didn’t know.”
“You did great,” Padera said as she felt his arm, squeezing here and there. “Walloped them good.” Padera pressed on the broken bone. “Ah, there we are. Not bad, not too bad at all.” She stretched his arm out and slipped a board underneath.
“You got the Miralyith like you were supposed to and proved men could fight. Nyphron says they’re scared now…or ought to be. You’re heroes.”
“All their Miralyith are dead, then?”
Tesh shook his head. “Not all—a lot, though. Crippled them, we think.”
“Still have giants,” Raithe said, and he grunted as Padera used the boards to set his bone.
“You killed three!” Tesh was bouncing on his haunches. Then he frowned.
Raithe’s eyes were watering, and he jerked a bit with the pain the old woman was inflicting, but still saw the kid’s expression change. “What?”
“Gilroy and Bergin were talking about how many you killed—how elves aren’t used to death. They were saying that this might be it. That they will leave now. That the war will end.”
“And you’re disappointed because you didn’t get to fight?”
Tesh shrugged. “I just—I just worked so damn hard.”
Padera wrapped the planks with a cord, tying it tight. And made a harrumph in Tesh’s direction. “A man who builds a roof shouldn’t complain when it doesn’t rain; the gods might send a flood.”
Around the courtyard other men were being tended to. They lay exhausted on the grass or sat, looking dazed. Some cried, some stared. A few laughed, but not in a good way. A handful continued to wander the yard, clutching their weapons and moving quickly as if they had someplace to be. But they only walked in circles with confused looks.
“Where’s Wedon?” Raithe asked.
Tesh refused to look at him.
“The glancing blow that broke this arm,” Padera said, “the farmer took square.”
Raithe looked around again but couldn’t find the farmer.