Ehren wiped rain out of his eyes and raked his hair back on his head. “That seems reasonable enough to me. I’ll ask him. I can’t promise anything.”

“Please,” Amara said.

Ehren nodded to her, then swung down from the wagon and ran ahead, toward the command group. It was not difficult. The entire group could travel no faster than its slowest members, and as a consequence they hadn’t been pushing half as fast as a Legion on the move. Half a dozen singulares recognized him on sight, and one of them waved him past the invisible barrier their presence represented.

Ehren knocked on the rear door to the covered wagon, still jogging to keep up. Lady Placida opened the door a moment later and offered Ehren her hand. He took it and clambered up into the wagon. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“It was no trouble, Sir Ehren.”

Ehren’s glanced past her, to where a nearly motionless form lay on a rough mattress beneath a wool blanket. “How is he?”

Lady Placida grimaced. “Not well. I was able to restore some of the proper blood flow, but... with cauterization like that, there are limits. He’s well beyond them.”

Ehren’s stomach twisted. “He’s dying.”

“He’s also lying right here, listening to you,” came Attis’s voice, weak and amused. “I’d ask you to quit speaking over my head, but in my current condition you have little choice.”

Ehren tried to smile. “Ah. Apologies, Your Highness.”

“What Aria means to tell you,” Attis said, “is that the backstabbing bitch filleted me. The lower half of my body has been sliced open from groin to ribs. My guts are an unholy mess and will doubtless begin to stink in short order. My heart is laboring too hard because apparently being bisected does terrible things to one’s blood pressure. The injuries are too severe and extensive to be healed.

“I can’t eat anything. Without all the proper tubes in my belly, the food would simply rot in any case. I can drink a little, which means that I will die of starvation a few weeks from now instead of from thirst a few days from now. Unless, of course, an infection takes me first, which seems likely.”

Ehren blinked several times at that. “Y-your Highness. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“There’s hardly a need for you to apologize, Cursor. Life ends. You can hardly blame yourself for that.”

Ehren regarded him for a moment, then lowered his eyes and nodded. “Yes, Your Highness. Are... are you in pain?”

Attis shook his head. “I am managing it for now.”

“Maybe you should rest.”

“I’ll have a vast surplus of rest, presently. For now, I have a duty to perform.”

“Your Highness,” Ehren protested. “You are in no condition—”