[The X Phial]

Bregand fought for control of his senses. Since regaining consciousness he had been lightheaded and nauseous. His eyesight was blurry, swimming in and out of focus, and he could swear he was hearing a swarm of bees behind his head. Despite all of this, however, he felt like his thinking was clear, or at least as clear as it could be. He was slowly trying to test his limbs, find any other places that might be wounded. After what felt like an age he determined that his head was his only injury. Somewhat comforted, he concentrated on taking in his surroundings.

They had decided not to start a fire. The risk was too great that the attackers would return. If they did, the remaining company members would not last long. Bregand was cold; in fact he was shivering. He pulled his blanket closer and steadied himself against the trunk of a tree. His hair and clothes were wet with condensation from the fog.

He managed to open his eyes and steady his vision. Carmalita was humming to herself and holding her stomach, obviously uncomfortable with the silence. Bregand could see blood drying on her clothes but no fresh blood flowing. He assumed she knew what she could handle, being a nurse, but he worried nonetheless. Enien had cleaned the blood off of her face, but an ugly red seam was in evidence, and her face looked drawn with emotion or pain, Bregand could not guess which. He could not see Aerin, but heard someone rustling through the packs. He assumed that was her.

Bregand used the tree for support and dragged himself to his feet, gaining a sharp look from the elf for his efforts. He took a tentative step toward Carmalita, and then another before losing his footing and landing on his hands and knees. Enien jumped to her feet and he had to hold up his hand to stop her from helping him up again. He looked at her, pleading with his eyes that she understand his need to do this by himself. She backed away, but looked at him dubiously, unsure.

Bregand calmed his stomach and climbed back to his feet. I was harder with no tree to help him. Finally, he managed to stumble his way to Carmalita's side with a weave in his step any drunk would have been proud of. He sat down heavily beside her, rewarded with a sharp pain in his temples and a fresh wave of nausea.

"Your wound is more serious than mine," he started, "and yet you cared for me before ever thinking of yourself. I thank you."

"Your wound is serious enough," she chastened in return. "As soon as we can risk a fire I have a tincture for you to drink that may lessen your dizziness."

"That would, indeed, be a blessing," he sighed.

They sat in silence for a while, and Carmalita resumed her humming. Bregand did not know the tune, but it was simple and lovely, like a lullaby. The nurse's voice was rough with pain, which gave the tune an eerie and haunting tone, and Bregand was enchanted by the simple beauty. He was loathe to interrupt her, and they sat that way for a while. Finally, when she was starting the tune from the beginning again, he broke in.

"I..I think you should take my horse when we get on the road again. You need to ride with that injury and I'm sure we can redistribute some of the weight she's carrying now. You don't look very heavy. She's a good horse, won't jostle you too much. Please don't say no. It's the only way I know to thank you."

[ May 14, 2003: Message edited by: The X Phial ]