To my left, a corpse of a man lay, a war-stained tunic around his waist. No. Something else. I looked quickly to my left and right, hoping for a stray horse blanket or a bit of torn clothing. Anything I could grab that wouldn’t put me in harm’s way. The battle continued to rage from the other side of the Libbu. I looked back to the dead man. To the boy beyond him who desperately needed my help, too. Bile filled my throat when I knew what I must do.

“Hold on!” I smoothed her hair, then scurried over to the corpse, glancing around wildly, my nerves jangling. Hurry! Hurry! I ripped a portion of the tunic from his body, and screamed when his leg flopped against mine.

I raced back to the warrior, who was trying to speak.

“Shhh,” I whispered. “Lie still.”

With shaking hands, I tried to tear the tunic into a strip I could use.

“Please,” she groaned.

“I’m sorry!” My chest tightened as I tugged the material. It was too tough! I put it to my teeth and tried to tear it again to form a bandage to stem the blood flow.

She pointed with trembling fingers beyond my shoulder. “Over there,” she moaned.

I glanced up from my work. The battle drew closer. A band of figures clashed their weapons together with grunts and roars. The Manzazu warriors were fighting bravely, but there were so many guardsmen! There were women fighting two and three men at a time. A guttural cry of Retreat! in Higal’s round Manzazu accent echoed off the walls.

“I must hurry,” I told her frantically. “Why were you fighting under Higal, anyway? I had a plan to prevent this!”

Frustrated with myself for not being strong enough to tear the fabric, I balled the tunic up and pressed it against the gaping wound in her side.

She whimpered, tears brimming in deep-set eyes framed with thick lashes. “I needed to keep Manzazu safe. Higal said we must listen to our queen’s command.”

“It’s okay.” I smoothed the hair from her forehead. I licked my dry lips and looked back to the war, my heart hammering. “I need to stitch you up, all right?”

Rish’s bloody stump swam in my mind. If I sewed her right there without cleansing the wound properly, she would die anyway, just later rather than sooner.

“I need to get some help to move you.” I could grab Dagan and Shep and Marduk. We could get a cart and pull this warrior to safety.

She grabbed my arm, suddenly stronger. “Don’t leave me.” Her bright eyes begged.

“I must! Help is close by. I can’t carry you alone.” I pressed the tunic into her side, and her clammy hand against the tunic. “Keep this cloth here. It’s important.”

“A-zu, don’t leave me!” she cried, looking after me in horror.

“I’ll be right back with help. I promise.”

Tearing myself away from her, I crouched behind the cart. When I went to stand, coldness bathed me from head to toe, and the Boatman brushed against me, the young guardsman in the bright blue tunic cradled like a babe in his arms.