Axis dismounted, made sure that Inardle could balance herself, then handed the reins to Georgdi and walked a pace or two into the night.
BroadWing landed before him in a rush of wings and with a broad grin.
“By the stars!” BroadWing said. “That felt good!”
Axis laughed, embracing the birdman in a fierce hug. “We thank you, my friend. Without you…”
“Without me you would have been forced to some grand heroic action,” BroadWing said. “I am sorry I stole your moment.”
Axis couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “I give you full permission to do so again, anytime you want, Strike Leader. Did my father send you?”
“Yes, but at Maximilian’s instigation. And there’s more good news, Axis. About five or six hours’ ride to the north you will come across a contingent of the Emerald Guard, complete with supplies, food, medical equipment, and Garth Baxtor. You have heard of him? Yes? Well, Maximilian thought you might need the aid.”
Axis gripped BroadWing’s shoulder. “BroadWing, you are indeed the bearer of much good news. The Isembaardians?”
“Picking themselves up and brushing off the dirt,” BroadWing said. “Before I left they’d started to trudge back to the encampment. It will take them several hours at least. I gave them your message, StarMan. I’ve stationed Icarii high above you. We’ll keep watch while you ride to meet Garth and the Emerald Guard. No one will surprise you.”
“Where’s Maximilian?”
“Riding hard for Elcho Falling. Depending on how hard you want to travel, he will be four to six days ahead of you.”
Axis glanced at Inardle. “More like six days, I think.”
BroadWing looked at her as well. “One of the Lealfast?”
Axis nodded, and indicated to BroadWing to come with him. He led him over to Inardle, who sat on the horse watching BroadWing warily.
“This is Inardle,” Axis said. “One of the nobility among the Lealfast. Inardle, this is Strike Leader BroadWing EvenBeat.”
Axis wondered if BroadWing would say anything about the Lealfast debacle which had led to this rescue, but the birdman chose tact ahead of point scoring.
“My Lady Inardle,” he said, and inclined his head. “You are injured.”
“Badly,” said Axis. “And Georgdi, Zeboath, and I worse the wear for our experiences. I think we will continue our ride, BroadWing. Inardle particularly can do with the comfort the Emerald Guard brings.”
BroadWing turned away at that, but Inardle called softly to him. “BroadWing. Thank you.”
BroadWing paused, nodded at Inardle in acknowledgment, then lifted into the sky.
“We ride,” said Axis, and vaulted up behind Inardle once more.
It took them until dawn to meet the Emerald Guard. Inardle was almost insensible by that time, and the other three desperately weary. None of them had eaten for three days, all had been subject to deprivation, and Inardle to sustained torment and abuse.
Axis’ shoulders sagged in relief when he saw the riders ahead of him on the lightening horizon. One of the Emerald Guardsmen called his column to a halt, then rode out to meet the four exhausted people.
“Greetings, StarMan,” he said to Axis, who found the energy to wonder that now everyone, stranger as well as friend, was using that title. “My name is Clements, and I lead this contingent of the Emerald Guard. I have ordered them to make camp and set food to cook. BroadWing has sent word that you are not being pursued for the moment, so I suggest we wait out this day here, so that you may rest and receive what treatment you need.”
“Thank you, Clements,” Axis said. He nodded at the young man who had ridden after Clements and who was now pulling his horse to a halt. “Garth Baxtor, I assume.”
“Indeed, StarMan,” Clements said. He introduced Garth to Axis, then Axis introduced his own companions.
“And this is Zeboath,” Axis said finally, “an Isembaardian physician of fine skill. He has been a valued companion of mine this past year.”
Axis well knew Garth’s reputation as a highly skilled physician who commanded the almost magical Touch, and he wanted Garth to know that Axis valued Zeboath as highly, if not more, than Garth’s reputation.
Garth clearly took the hint. He smiled at Zeboath. “I have heard of the skill of the Isembaardian physicians,” he said. “I am most pleased to meet you, physician Zeboath, and once you are rested and fed, look forward to picking your brains for new knowledge.”
Zeboath grinned. “All I heard amid those words of welcome, Garth, were the words ‘rested’ and ‘fed.’ I am afraid my mind has clung to them exclusively.” The humor died from his face. “Garth Baxtor, we have with us a most grievously injured woman. She needs your aid, as soon as you might.”
Garth looked at Inardle, slumped in Axis’ arms, noting the bruises and contusions, and the blood seeping down one leg from a wound on her abdomen. He pushed his horse forward and laid a very gentle hand on her cheek for a moment.
“Then I may need your assistance, Zeboath,” he said, “before you have time for food and rest. I am sorry.”
The Emerald Guard, comprising some forty men, had five wagons of equipment and supplies with them. Axis thought that Maximilian must have instructed them to prepare for any contingency.
But, oh stars, he was grateful to Maximilian for his forethought and care.
The guardsmen had fires started and food set out to cook by the time Axis and his group rode up. By the time they’d dismounted, and Axis had lifted Inardle down, Garth’s medical bags were in evidence, a blanket was provided to cover Inardle’s nakedness, and everyone was given a cup of ale to keep them going.
Axis couldn’t believe their efficiency.
“Your cheek has been badly gashed,” Garth said, tipping Axis’ head to one side so he could see more clearly.
“It just needs a clean,” Axis said.
“And perhaps some stitches,” Garth said. “It will leave a scar, I am afraid.”
Axis remembered once, long, long ago, someone had remarked to him that despite all the wars and battles he’d endured, and all the injuries, he’d never scarred. It was one of those times when he’d truly realized the depth of his gifts.
“It won’t scar,” Axis said. “Stitch it later, after you’ve seen to Inardle.”
“What happened to her?” Garth said as they walked over to where one of the guardsmen had settled Inardle by a fire. Zeboath was kneeling by her, persuading her to drink something.
“The wound on her flank was caused by an Isembaardian sword, her broken wing by Armat’s booted foot, and her various other contusions and bruises by Risdon, who—”
“I know,” Garth said softly. “I felt it earlier, when I laid a hand to her cheek.”
Axis halted just before they reached Inardle, putting a hand on Garth’s arm and making him stop as well.
“You have the Touch,” Axis said. “What did you feel?”
“She’s a strong woman,” said Garth. “Her injuries are very serious, but not life-threatening. More dangerous for her at the moment is the fact she’s had almost nothing to eat or drink for some three days, and has had to endure a physically exhausting ride to escape. Her rape…I don’t know. As ever in these matters, while her physical injuries will heal quickly, who knows what other scars this Risdon has left. Did you kill him?”
“Yes.”
“In front of her?”
“Yes.”
Garth gave a little smile. “Good. That may help. She needs to know he won’t come after her again.”
“But she is a strong woman?”
Garth paused, studying Axis closely. “You already know that, Axis.”
“Garth, there is something else. One of the men who oversaw Inardle’s torture and rape was Lister. He was Inardle’s former lover.”
“Lister is with Armat?”
“Aye.”
Garth muttered a soft curse. “Then Vorstus must be with him as well.”
“He was. Armat apparently murdered him to make a point to Ravenna and Lister.”
“Ravenna is there, too.” Garth rubbed at his forehead, looking devastated. “I think Maxel knew that, but still…” He drew in a deep breath. “And Lister, Inardle’s former lover, stood there and allowed her abuse to happen? Let’s hope Inardle chooses better in her future lovers, eh, Axis?”
Whatever Zeboath had given Inardle revived her a little, and Garth asked Axis to sit behind her and hold her propped up against his body so that Garth and Zeboath could examine her more easily.
Axis felt somewhat uncomfortable holding Inardle so close. He was very aware of her, and he was irritated at himself for feeling this way when they’d ridden for many hours in just as close contact and it hadn’t bothered him at all.
Garth and Zeboath worked well together. One of the guardsmen had brought over several large bags of medical supplies, and Zeboath soon made himself at home sorting through their contents. Garth took some swabs soaked in an antiseptic fluid from Zeboath and wiped away the blood about the wound on Inardle’s flank and abdomen, brushing away with an irritated hand the blanket Axis was trying to keep over her breasts.
“The stitching on this…” Garth said, obviously trying very hard to be diplomatic.
“Was very amateurish,” said Zeboath.
“That’s not what you said to me,” Axis snapped.
“Now I am talking to a fellow professional,” Zeboath said, grinning. He sobered, and addressed Garth again. “Axis did this. When the Lealfast fell down about us, there were so many…I had no time to attend to Inardle so Axis stitched her. In his defense, Garth, Inardle has since been through more wars. I doubt anyone’s stitching could have held her together.”
“Well,” said Garth, now threading a needle, “we’ll just have to keep her out of the wars again for the time being.”
He bent closer to the wound, apologizing to Inardle as the needle slipped under the first layer of skin and muscle.
She jumped a little from the sting, and a line of frost ran up from her wound and vanished under the blanket covering her breasts.
Garth stopped, the stitch half completed, staring at the line of frost.
“It is her reaction to pain,” Axis murmured.
“Ah,” Garth said, and his face told what he was too diplomatic to express. Fascinating. Axis could see that Garth and Zeboath would spend many hours over several mugs of ale discussing this phenomenon.
Garth managed to overcome his fascination long enough to stitch the wound, then he turned his attention to Inardle’s left wing, spread out to Axis’ side.
He hesitated before touching it, exchanging a glance with Zeboath.
“I’ll mix something up for her,” Zeboath said, then rose and busied himself among one of the medical packs.
“Zeboath is going to make you an elixir which will deaden the pain,” Garth said to Inardle. “Even an examination of this will hurt, let alone any attempt we make to fix it.”
“I don’t really want—” Inardle began.
“You will take it,” Garth said. “Among other things, it will help relax the muscles and tendons in the wing, and neither Zeboath or myself can do anything for you while the wing is so rigid.”
Zeboath had returned, a small cup in his hand. Garth took it, and held it to Inardle’s mouth.
“What are you doing to me?” she said. “There’s more than just the mixture.”
“I am infusing the elixir with a little added help, Inardle,” Garth said. “It will help, not hurt.”
“Please, Inardle,” Axis murmured, and he felt her relax a little in his arms and accept the elixir.
While they waited for it to have an effect, Garth and Zeboath attended to some of Inardle’s lesser wounds and bruises. One or two of the wounds needed a stitch, but most just needed a clean and, in the case of the bruises, a rub with an unguent and a gentle application of Garth’s Touch.
“Most of these will have vanished within two days,” Garth said, cleaning Inardle’s face and running one of his fingers lightly over the bruising there. “Your left arm, though, will take longer, perhaps a week, as its swelling is related to the severity of the break in your wing.”
Inardle just tipped her head, as if she didn’t care, but Axis felt her tense at the mention of her wing again.
It was more than possible that Inardle dreaded Garth and Zeboath splinting her wing, but Axis thought she was likely far more worried about whether or not she’d be able to fly again. In his former life Axis had known two Icarii who had been wing-crippled in accidents, and who could no longer fly.
Both had killed themselves within two years of their initial injuries.
Zeboath and Garth had now positioned themselves to either side of Inardle’s broken wing.
It looked frightful—very swollen, crooked into an unnatural position, the bruising showing beneath the feathers as great spreading stains of black and red.
“How long ago did this happen?” Garth said.
“Four days,” Axis said.
Garth winced, again sharing a glance with Zeboath.
“Please fix it,” Inardle whispered, and Axis tightened his hold on her a little, leaning his face against the back of her hair. He wished, quite desperately, that he’d never verbally attacked her in the pit.
Zeboath helped support the wing while Garth ran his hand very gently over it. At one point he raised his face and locked eyes with Axis, and Axis knew the news was not going to be good.
“All the main supporting bones are broken,” said Garth, “although fortunately they’re broken cleanly. If they’d been smashed…”
“The tendons attaching muscle to bone are also torn, and very badly bruised. The swelling is bad and I am not sure I can do much while it is so extreme. The bones need to be set, but…”
“What happens if you delay?” Axis said.
“Setting the bones?” Garth said. “Well, they’re already starting to heal themselves through calcification. Clots of blood, and bone tissue, have formed about all of the breaks—this will eventually resolve itself into new bone.”
“So if you don’t splint it now, the bones will start to set themselves into their current unnatural shape.”
Garth nodded.
“I think that what Garth is trying to say,” Zeboath said, “is that the wing can likely be healed reasonably successfully if the bones are splinted into their proper position. The tendons will heal by themselves once the bone has healed. But as the swelling now is so bad, that is going to be both terribly difficult and terribly painful. If we don’t do it, then…”
“There’s every chance Inardle won’t fly again,” Axis said.
“Set it now,” Inardle said.
“It will hurt,” Garth said, gently. “Very, very badly. What we gave you will not blot out the pain, and we have nothing else. Inardle, we are going to have to further injure the wing in order to set those bones, and I am terrified we will cripple you completely.”
“Set it now,” said Inardle. “I cannot bear the thought of not flying again.”
Garth hesitated, exchanging yet another concerned look with Zeboath.
“Set it now,” said Axis. “I know how my father felt without wings. Set it now.”
Inardle twisted her head slightly to be able to look at him. “Thank you.”
Garth looked at Axis and gave a very slight nod, and Axis tightened his hold about Inardle.
The physician stood up and asked Zeboath to hold out the wing as far as possible, then Garth stamped down on it with as much force as Armat once had.