Klia drew Thero over to the other bed and made him sit. Settling beside him, she took his hand in a reassuring grip, callused fingers warm against his cold ones.

They sat in tense silence as the drysian continued her examination.

“He’s had a nasty blow to the head, in addition to the broken arm,” Yana said at last. “Was he attacked?”

“He fell and struck his head on a rock,” Thero told her.

“Well, it certainly does look like a mild concussion, and he has a chill. We must get some warm stones tucked around him right away.”

“I’ll see to it.” Klia went to the door to give the order, then rejoined Thero on the bed.

The drysian’s boy arrived with the supplies, and Yana set to work. Mika let out a groan now and then as she set the bone, bathed and stitched the wound, and splinted his arm, but still didn’t wake. As she tended his head wound, a soldier returned with a bucket of warm river stones.

It seemed to take an eternity for the healer to finish and to get Mika safely into bed with his splinted arm tied across his chest. Yana brewed a strong-smelling herbal concoction on the brazier, let it cool, then fed it by drops between Mika’s lips with a spoon.

“The tisane will help dull the pain, and I’ll give him a healing blessing,” she said, motioning for Thero to join her at the bedside. “I’m going to try and wake him now. It’s best if you’re the first thing he sees. He’s had a bad shock.”

Holding her hand over Mika’s head, she murmured something in the healer’s tongue and warm yellow light glowed over his brow. He gasped in his sleep; then his right eye fluttered open. He looked up at Thero uncomprehendingly for a moment, then burst into tears.

Thero knelt and took Mika’s right hand in his. “It’s all right. You’re safe now.”

“I—I—I’m sorry, M-master!”

“Nothing to be sorry for, I’m sure. I’m just glad I found you.”

“We were only p-playing.”

“Who were you playing with?”

But Mika only cried harder. Tears ran down his pale cheeks toward his ears, and Thero used the edge of his sleeve to wipe them away. More came, and Mika’s nose began to run.

“Hold him.”

He glanced over his shoulder. The drysian and her apprentice were gone, but Klia was still seated on the other cot.

Feeling a little awkward, Thero gently got an arm under Mika’s shoulders and pulled the boy up to lean against his chest, taking care not to jostle his broken arm. Mika grabbed folds of Thero’s coat with his free hand and buried his face against it, nearly hysterical now.