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helpless and infirm old lady, and I will be extremely insulted.
Rhys bowed to her in profound respect.  I think you are a very great lady, Mistress Jenna.
She smiled in pleasure and waved him away.
 And, Brother, Jenna called after him, as he was leaving,  I still want that kender-herding dog you
promised me!
As Rhys hastened off, he made a promise to himself that Mistress Jenna should have the finest puppy
in Atta s next litter.
9
By the time Rhys made his way through the gardens and across the front lawn to the street, the town
guard had managed to regain some semblance of control. Rhys halted, shocked at the sight of the
carnage. The street was littered with bodies, many of them stirring and groaning, but some lying dead.
The cobblestones were slippery with blood. The fires had been doused, but the stench of burning stung his
nostrils. The guards had blocked off the street and now that the battle had ended, they had their hands full
holding back frantic friends and relatives seeking their loved ones.
Rhys did not know where to begin to search for Nightshade and Mina and Atta. He roamed up and
down the street, calling Nightshade s name, calling Mina, calling Atta. There was no answer. Everyone he
saw was covered in soot and dirt and blood. He could not tell the identity of a victim simply by looking at
the clothes and whenever he saw the body of a kender-sized person lying the street, his heart clogged his
throat.
Even as Rhys searched, he did what he could to aid the wounded, though not being a priest there
was little he could do except offer comfort and ease their fear by assuring them help was on the way.
Ordinarily the wounded would have been taken to the temple of Mishakal, for her priests were skilled
in healing. Her temple had been damaged by the fire, however, and the Temple of Majere was opened to
the victims, as were the Temples of Habbukuk and Chislev. The priests of many gods worked among the
injured, ministering to friend and foe alike, making no distinction.
In this the priests were aided by mystics, who had hastened to the site to offer their help, and with
them came the herbalists and physicians of Solace. The bodies of the dead were taken to the Temple of
Reorx, where they were laid in quiet repose until family and friends came to undergo the sorrowful task
of identifying and claiming them for burial.
Rhys came across the Abbot organizing litter-bearers. Many of the wounded were in dire condition,
and the Abbot was exceedingly busy, for lives hung in the balance. Rhys hated to interrupt his work, but
he was growing desperate. He had still not found his friends. Rhys was about to take a brief moment to
ask the Abbot if he had seen Mina, when he caught sight of Gerard.
The sheriff was splattered with blood and limping from a wound to his leg. A guardsman walked
alongside him, pleading with him to seek treatment for his wound. Gerard angrily ordered the man off,
telling him to help those who were really hurt. The guardsmen hesitated, then seeing the sheriff s
baleful expression returned to his duties. Once the man was gone and Gerard thought no one was
watching, he sagged against a tree, drew in a deep and shivering breath and closed his eyes and grimaced.
Rhys hurried to his side. Hearing footfalls coming toward him, Gerard abruptly straightened and tried
to walk off as though nothing was the matter. His injured leg buckled beneath him and he would have
fallen, but Rhys was there to catch him and ease him to the ground.
 Thank you, Brother, said Gerard grudgingly.
Ignoring Gerard s insistence that the wound was merely a scratch, Rhys examined the gash in
Gerard s thigh. The cut was deep and oozing blood. The blade had sliced through the flesh and muscle
and perhaps cracked the bone. Gerard winced as Rhys fingers probed, and he swore softly beneath his
breath. His intense blue eyes glinted more with anger than with pain.
Rhys opened his mouth to start to shout for a priest. Gerard didn t wait to hear him, however.
 If you say one prayer, Brother, Gerard told him,  if you utter one single holy word, I ll shove it
down your throat!
He gasped in agony and leaned back against the tree, groaning softly.
 I am a monk of Majere, Rhys said.  You need not worry. I do not have the gift of healing.
Gerard flushed, ashamed of his outburst.  I m sorry I shouted at you, Brother. It s just that I m fed up
to here with your gods! Look at what your gods have done to my city!
He gestured to the bodies lying in the street, to the clerics moving among the wounded.  Most of the
evil done in this world is done in the name of one god or the other. We were better off without them.
Rhys could have responded that much good was done in the name of the gods, as well, but this was
not the time to enter into a theological argument. Besides, he understood Gerard. There was a time Rhys
had felt the same.
Gerard eyed his friend, then heaved a sigh.  Don t pay any attention to me, Brother. I didn t mean
what I said. Well, not much. My leg hurts like hell. And I lost some good men today, he added grimly.
 I am sorry, Rhys said.  Truly sorry. Sheriff, I hate to trouble you now, but I must ask. Did
you  Rhys felt his throat go dry as he asked the question  did you see Nightshade anywhere 
 Your kender friend? Gerard shook his head.  No, I didn t see him, but that doesn t mean much. It
was sheer bloody chaos out there, what with the smoke and fire and those horrible undead fiends
slaughtering every person they came across.
Rhys sighed deeply.
 Nightshade s got more sense than usual for a kender, Gerard said.  Is Atta with him? That dog s
smarter than most people I know. He s probably back at the Inn. It s chicken and biscuit night you
know 
He tried to grin, but he drew in a sharp breath and rocked back and forth, swearing under his breath.
 That hurts!
The best place for Gerard would in be one of the Temples, but Rhys knew how that suggestion would
be received.
 At least let me help you back to the Inn, my friend, Rhys suggested, knowing Gerard would be in
safe hands with Laura to care for him. Gerard agreed to this, and he reluctantly allowed Rhys to help him
to his feet.
 I have a recipe for a poultice that will ease the pain and allow the wound to heal cleanly, Rhys told
him, putting his arm around him.
 You won t whip a prayer into it, will you, Brother? Gerard asked gruffly, leaning on his friend. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]