A great roar went up as she dismounted and gave Caryo into the willing hands of waiting aides. Keren and Ylsa were a fraction of a moment behind her, flanking her as she walked into the command tent.

Alberich did not so much dismount as fall out of the saddle, and he had to cling to it for a moment before his head cleared. Kantor swiveled his head to peer at him, but before the Companion could say anything, more aides came to take Kantor away with the other three Companions. Alberich set his jaw, swayed for a moment, and followed Selenay into the tent, intending to stay discreetly on the sidelines. That gray haze clouded his vision, but he had fought it away before, and he would fight it away now.

That was his intention, anyway—

What happened was that he got three paces inside the door flap, that grayness turned to blackness, and he passed out cold at Selenay’s feet.

* * *

He came awake all at once, and blinked up at white, sun-washed canvas.

“It’s about time,” Myste said dryly, as he realized he was not alone and this was not his tent. “Layabout. Come on, get up and get out of that cot; they need it for someone who’s really hurt.”

He sat up; it was a big tent, and it was full of more cots like his. He had been put in one right beside the tent wall; his nearest neighbor was—

“Jadus—” he said.

The lean Herald turned to face them without raising his head from the pillow, and grimaced. “In the flesh, most of it. They had to take the leg.”

Jadus’ eyes had that half-focused look of someone powerfully drugged; Alberich was surprised he could speak at all. “The saying should be, better the leg than the life.”

He shouldn’t have said that; he knew it as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Too late. “Better mine than his,” Jadus replied, voice thick with sorrow. “But I didn’t get to make a choice.”

“Seldom does anyone.” Alberich reached across and put one hand on Jadus’ arm. He didn’t have the words of comfort he wanted, not even in his own language, but Jadus seemed to understand that he meant to offer whatever support he had without words.

“Thank you,” Jadus told him, in a tone that said he meant the words. “You know—they just dosed me. I believe I need to sleep… now…”

His eyelids dropped, and in a moment, he was asleep.

“Poor man. I hope we can find something he can teach at the Collegium—” Myste began, but Alberich interrupted her.

“Bah! A sad day indeed it will be, the day a Herald needs two legs to do his duty!” He would not hear of it, a healthy man, certainly no older than the late King, being given makework, just because he lacked half a limb. “And of legs speaking—”