Landmoor

Thealos related the experience as quickly as he could, mentioning the Crimson Wolfsmen watchers and how the Kiran Thall had provoked the fight by wanting to hang the knight. Jaerod’s eyes darkened and he nodded, listening. He withdrew a bit of Everoot and pressed it into Thealos hand. The Silvan magic wrapped him in its warmth, healing the cut on his side and the gash on his hand, leaving him complete and whole once more. The feelings washed over him in warm waves, soothing and soft

“Fury, but that feels good,” Thealos sighed, staring at the vibrant moss in his hand.

“I need to speak to the garrison captain so we can leave. Wait for me.” The Sleepwalker approached the tavern keeper and the soldiers and began talking to them.

Thealos lowered his fist, savoring the dregs of the magic. He quickly looked around the room and saw Ticastasy tending the fallen Drugaen. The serving girl pressed a bloodied rag against his barrel chest in an effort to stanch the bleeding. Flent’s face was paler than sapwax, and his breathing came in ragged gasps. Thealos was sickened at the sight. The soldiers had hacked him even after he’d fallen. He lay in a puddle of blood.

“How is he?” Thealos said softly, coming up behind the girl and squatting low next to her.

“Thirsty,” the stocky Drugaen replied with a broken grin. He grit his teeth with pain. “’Stasy thinks… if I drink anything, it’ll come spilling out on my shirt.” He seized up in a cough and blood dribbled down his lip. “But I’d rather leak ale…than blood.”

“Sshhhh,” the serving girl muttered, putting a fresh cloth on his chest. “I sent Norrie running for a Zerite, Flent. He’ll help you, just stay awake. Please, just stay awake a little longer!”

Thealos stared down at the Drugaen. He was in agony. How he’d survived the battle at all, Thealos didn’t know. He wondered if he had looked this bad when Jaerod found him in the gully. His heart panged at the thought. “Let me help him.”

The serving girl looked at him with a surge of hope. “Are you a healer?”

“My people are.” He looked down at Flent and then at the girl. Opening his hand, he showed them the stump of Everoot.

“What is that?” she asked, staring at it warily.

The Drugaen looked past Thealos, as if seeing something behind him. His eyes glazed over and his head drooped low on his chest. He was fighting to keep his eyes open.

“Flent!” she gasped, clutching his shirt front and shaking him. “Don’t you give up on me. Stay with me!” Her eyes brimmed with tears.

With the Everoot in his hand, Thealos pulled the bloody cloth away and pressed the vibrant moss against the deep gash. He felt the magic surge, rush from the plant into the Drugaen’s limp body. The Earth magic spread slowly from his hand. It wasn’t the same reaction as when Jaerod had used the plant on him. It was weaker now, not as refreshed, but the results were the same. Flent gasped once, twice, his chest heaving – eyes wide.

“What…what are you doing?” the serving girl demanded, alarmed.

“Don’t fight it,” Thealos soothed. “It’s all right.”

Color returned to Flent’s bloodless cheeks. His hand filled with strength as he gripped Ticastasy’s arm, squeezing it so hard she winced. Her eyes widened with shock. His chest rose and fell, long and slow. A timid grin spread over his mouth. The bloodstained clothes were still there. But when Thealos lifted his hand, the gaping wound on his chest was gone. And so was the clump of Everoot.

“Thank Achrolese!” she whispered in surprise. “Thank Achrolese, you saved him!” She squeezed Thealos’ hands fiercely. “Thank you, my lord. Thank you!”

Thealos’ shoulders sagged with relief and he couldn’t help but smile. He’d never saved someone’s life before. With all the death that night, it felt wonderful.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, “What a wretch – I’ve got blood all over you!” Grabbing a fresh towel, she cleaned his hands.

Flent sat up slowly, letting out a deep sigh, and looked at his bloodstained clothes. Ticastasy tossed down the towel, looked at the Drugaen sternly, and then wrapped her arms around his neck. “Don’t you ever do that again!” she said, half-choked with tears.

He smoothed her hair. “I’ve never let any man hit you, ‘Stasy.” His eyes narrowed. “If he comes back to Sol again, I’ll split him nose to navel. I swear it.”

She shook her head sadly. “I didn’t know what else to do, Flent.”

Thealos looked at her with a frown, remembering. “You provoked him. Deliberately. Why?”

Her eyes flashed. “So I could slip into the kitchens and send the cooks running for the garrison. I don’t need to answer to you…”

Thealos touched her arm to calm her. “I’m glad you did. You surprised me, that’s all. You knew that Kiran Thall?”