Phura and the children came up from the river tunnel, damp still, and entered the study; Phura watched as the children surged towards Gamba. But he did not look up, and Phura called, "Wait. Stop!" They did.
When Loremaster came back, Phura had gently removed the tattered remains of Gamba's shirt. Gamba was surrounded by small wondering voices, asking him what was wrong, and why he was hurt and sad.
"He'll need to be reassigned, " Loremaster observed, mentally reviewing the openings. "Perhaps the Locks."
"He'll get better, " Phura argued against the panic in his own soul. "He'll recover. He won't get infected. He'll get strong again."
"He's young, " Loremaster soothed him. "We'll take good care of him." With what, Loremaster did not know; there were few herbs to be had. "Wash him well, with the warmest water he can stand. You look like you've been swimming?"
"Yes, for quite a while."
"Then your shirt may be the cleanest cloth we have. Use that."
Phura stripped his shirt off and set it carefully aside on the table. "Kesha, get water. No-- not well-water. Go to the river."
Kesha started to run off with two buckets. "Take Gamba's shirt, Kesha. Wash it very, very well, " Loremaster added, handing him the tattered shirt. Phura sat by Gamba, and Gamba leaned numbly against him.
Loremaster took the children, and went to get dinner. Esta and Azraph, having heard what Loremaster told Tuka, came to the study to help care for Gamba. But before Loremaster allowed the girls into the study, he removed his long, outer, loremasters' robe, and slowly and thoughtfully placed it over Phura's shoulders.
At the moment, Phura hardly noticed.
[ October 09, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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...down to the water to see the elves dance and sing upon the midsummer's eve.
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