Warcry

way, carrying torches ahead and behind him. Just in case.
    Eln was beside him as well, his healing kit with him.
    “You sure Lara can spare you?” Heath asked again.
    “Yes,” Eln said firmly. “Lara is fine, with many hands to aid her.”
    “The babes,” Heath started, but Eln cut him off.
    “Atira saved the life of the Queen. The very least I can do is see her set for the night,” Eln said. “Ah, here we go.”
    Heath’s door was wide open, with guards checking the room. A fire crackled in the hearth, lighting every corner.
    Marcsi was waiting with buckets of warm water and cloths. “Word came to the kitchens,” she said, giving Atira a worried look. “What else do you need?”
    “I’ve some herb compresses,” Eln said. “And willowbark tea, I think. The orchid root will last her for a while, but we’ll see if we can get some tea in her now. It will help when she wakes.”
    Heath lowered Atira down onto the bed, and his heart clenched as her head rolled to the side. “Eln—” he started.
    “That’s to be expected,” Eln said. “I gave her a large dose of the drug before I set the joint back in place. Heath, if you would . . .”
    Heath stayed by the bed. Atira looked so pale, so limp. “I don’t want to—”
    “I’m not asking you to leave,” Eln said patiently. “Just give us room to work.”
    Heath stepped to the side.
    The guards had left and closed the door behind them. The room warmed quickly as Eln and Marcsi stripped Atira out of her ruined dress. “Nothing but to burn it,” Marcsi muttered as she gathered the shreds. “Pity. It was so pretty.”
    “Let’s get her cleaned up,” Eln said. “Then we’ll see to the wounds.”
    Heath watched, waiting for Atira to awaken and protest as they bathed her. But her face remained still and pale.
    “Where’s her sleeping gown?” Marcsi asked.
    Heath blinked, but Eln came to his rescue. “Those of the Plains sleep naked.”
    Marcsi’s eyebrows flew up. “Oh, well. That’s rather convenient this time, isn’t it?”
    Heath could have hugged her.
    Once she was clean and dry, Marcsi bundled the dirty linens together. “I’ll be back with that tea,” she murmured, and off she went.
    “Now, let’s you and I see to the wounds, shall we?” Eln asked.
    Heath moved in, acting as another pair of hands for the healer as Eln went over Atira carefully. There were cuts and bruises, but it seemed the worst was her shoulder, which was almost black with bruises.
    Eln calmly cleaned and dressed each wound methodically, letting Heath help. Heath’s heart stopped racing as he saw for his own eyes that Atira would be fine.
    “That’s that, then,” Eln said, and he turned and forced Heath to sit on his clothes press. “She’s fine, and you are about to collapse on your feet. Let’s see to you, then.”
    Heath gave him a startled look but submitted to Eln’s ministering. He hadn’t realized he’d been injured as well. Nothing major really. Not like . . .
    “Drink this,” Eln commanded, pouring out a cup of tea when Marcsi returned.
    Heath sighed and obediently drank the foul stuff as Marcsi set the pot by the fire.
    Eln applied an ointment to Atira’s shoulder, then he and Marcsi rolled blankets and arranged pillows to support Atira before covering her in a warm blanket. “That should do,” Eln said, wiping his hand on a cloth. “I doubt she’ll stir at all. But just in case.” Eln arched an eyebrow.
    “I’ll sleep here,” Heath said. “On the floor.” He gestured to Atira’s bedroll.
    “The floor!” Marcsi protested, but Eln shushed her.
    “That would be best,” Eln agreed, pushing Marcsi out the door. “Call for me when you wake, or if you have any problems in the night. And don’t spend the night moon-calfing over her, Heath.”
    “I won’t,” Heath said, but he didn’t mean it.
    “You’re right,” Eln said just as he closed the door. “I laced your tea with sleep-ease. Best you crawl into that bed before you fall into it.” He closed the door behind him.
    Heath sighed and bolted the door and shutters. He stripped quickly, watching Atira as he did so. But he was losing the battle to sleep. He crawled into the bedroll and managed a quick prayer of thanks before sleep claimed him.

    THE AFTERNOON SUN FILTERING THROUGH THE shutters woke Heath.
    He lay on his side, under gurtle blankets, and just breathed for a while, orienting himself to the stone floor beneath him, the ceiling up above. His room was