“The arms-commander is inside, ser. We think he was thrown through the window of the duke’s study. He was sprawled on the stones, but he’d landed on some heavy draperies and a settee. He can’t move his legs, and there are welts all over his body. He says he’ll be all right, but he has to be in great pain. I’ve sent for a healer, but no one has found him. Without one … I don’t … I don’t know … You’re the only one…” Norstaan looks pleadingly up at Lerial.
After immediately checking his shields, Lerial dismounts and hands the reins to the nearest ranker. He looks to Kusyl. “Keep anyone else away from here.” Then he follows the undercaptain through the door and into a small chamber.
Rhamuel lies on his back on two table desks pushed together. A jacket or tunic has been rolled up and placed under his neck. His face is slightly contorted, but his eyes focus on Lerial, although he does not move his head. Two Afritan Guards are stationed on each side of the tables, clearly to make sure Rhamuel does not fall.
Lerial immediately lets his order-sense range over the arms-commander. The diffuse chaos across his upper body indicates a large amount of bruising, most of which will not become apparent for several days, but not life-threatening by itself. There is a clear break in the main bone in his left leg halfway between ankle and knee, and more deep bruises on his legs. There is also a band of chaos across Rhamuel’s lower back. Lerial turns to Norstaan. “Did a heavy block of stone hit his lower back?”
“There were a lot of masonry stones over him, ser. He was half buried.”
Frig!
“What can you feel?” Lerial asks Rhamuel.
“Everything above my waist hurts. There’s pain everywhere lower…”
“Can you move your fingers?”
“Yes.”
“Toes?”
“I don’t … know … can’t feel … except pain.”
“What about your left leg?”
“What’s wrong with me?” demands Rhamuel.
“You’re badly bruised and battered over most of your body. You’ve got a broken bone in your left leg, and your lower back is hurt. That might be very bad. We can set and splint the leg. That can wait a little bit.”
“Wait?”
Lerial ignores Rhamuel’s question, instead concentrating on the chaos-knot in the arms-commander’s lower back. He cannot tell exactly what is wrong, but he has the feeling that there is little he can do except to reduce the amount of chaos. Bit by bit, he does, until he has the sense that to remove more would not be a good idea for either Rhamuel or himself. When he shifts his weight from one boot to the other, he feels light-headed. He steps back, carefully. His falling on the injured commander is the last thing either of them needs.
“What did you do? The pain’s less.”
“What I could.” Lerial stands there for a moment, taking a deep breath.
“I can’t move my toes…”
“We need to splint that leg. Otherwise, what happens with your toes won’t matter.” Lerial is well aware that it will matter, but he doesn’t want to talk about that aspect of Rhamuel’s injuries … not yet. “What about the others in the palace?”
Rhamuel gestures with his right forearm and hand. “Everyone out except Lord Lerial.”
Lerial looks at Norstaan. “I’m going to need straight strong narrow pieces of wood and long strips of cloth, canvas if you can find any. Clear spirits or strong ale.…” When he finishes, he adds, “The sooner the better.”
After the others leave, Lerial steps closer to the table.
Rhamuel looks up at Lerial. “Atroyan’s dead. He was when I got to his study. His throat was slashed. I heard something so loud it shook me and the palace. Everything started to collapse … I grabbed the settee and used it like a shield to go through the window as the stones were falling … didn’t time it quite right…”
“What about the rest of the family?”
“I don’t know. I went straight to Atroyan’s study.”
“You have another problem,” Lerial says. “We were scouting to the north and discovered that the Heldyans have landed at least four battalions at the pier at Maesoryk’s tileworks there. They had chaos-wizards who created the fog. We managed to destroy maybe a battalion of Heldyans, but they had three or four more left and at least three more strong chaos-wizards. I only had a company with me. I couldn’t do any more, and we had to withdraw. On the way back we saw part of the Harbor Post explode, maybe a third. There wasn’t anything we could do. So we headed back here, but I sent a messenger to the Harbor Post to let the senior officer know about the Heldyans. Then I got word about you and the palace.”
“What about the South Post?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have Norstaan draft some orders and send word. Sammyl’s there, isn’t he?”
“Yes. What about sending Drusyn’s battalions north…”