Intrigues

not to kill him. The moment that Dallen’s bulk was clear of the cul-de-sac entrance, he darted away.

Mags dropped to his knees, then doubled over again, unable to decide what part of himself to hold, since so much hurt.

He wished he could pass out; unconsciousness would be very welcome right now. Unfortunately, his body refused to cooperate.

:Mags!: The frantic call rang through his skull and made more stars explode behind his eyes.

:Don’—think s’hard—: he gasped mentally. :—hurts —:

Slowly, he managed to get to his feet again. With one hand on the wall and the other on his gut, he stumbled to the entrance and fell against Dallen’s neck. Dallen immediately knelt in the filth of the alley to let him drag himself over the Companion’s back. He put both his arms around Dallen’s neck, hanging on as best he could, balanced on the broad white surface like a sack of roots.

Dallen lurched to his feet without unbalancing Mags. :Then others will chase him,: came a whisper of thought. :I am getting you back up to the Healers now.:

And without another thought, Dallen sped grimly back up to the Collegium, with Mags clinging dizzily to his neck.

:S’allright, : he managed, as they were about halfway there. :Been beat this bad afore—wha’s goin’ on?:

:The others are converging on the inn right now, with the Guard,: Dallen said. :They’ll try and catch the bastards.:

:Shouldn’ we—:

:No. We are doing nothing. You have done enough. You are in no shape to assist in any way at all.:

Dallen rushed through the gates, passing Guards that were nothing more than blue blurs to Mags, and into the Collegia grounds.

:I’m taking you to Healers’ Collegium,: Dallen said, when they didn’t stop at either the stable or at Heralds’ Collegium.

Finally Dallen stopped. They were met at the door by a single Healer and by Gennie, and the flash of outrage in Dallen’s mind that there was not a herd of Healers waiting for them was enough to set stars dancing in front of Mags’ vision again.

:Sorry,: Dallen said, and damped down the connection between them so that less was getting through. But it was very clear that he was still enraged.

“Calm down,” the Healer ordered, wincing, as Gennie helped Mags down off of Dallen’s back. “He’s one single Trainee who’s been beaten up; he’s neither bleeding to death inside, nor has any broken bones, I can tell you that much. Stop acting as if he was going to die at any moment, you big fool.”

Dallen snorted and whinnied angrily, as Gennie held Mags up so the Healer could peel back his eyelids and peer into his eyes.

“He has a mild concussion. His insides are badly bruised, but quite intact. I’m sure he hurts all over. Stop fussing,” the Healer snapped.

“Tol’ ’im—been beat this bad afore—” Mags managed.

“And you shut up. Companion, go to your stable. Trainee, you are going straight to a bed. Give him a hand, Trainee Gennie, and both of you follow me.”

With Gennie keeping him from falling over, Mags followed the Healer into a part of the Collegium he had never been before—a big room with a great many beds in it, most of them empty. Gennie helped him down onto the nearest one, then when the Healer started to strip Mags’ clothing off of him, flushed crimson and beat a hasty retreat.

The Healer peeled everything off him but his boots, singlet and hose, tossing the clothing aside. “That Companion of yours could stand to have better manners,” he grumbled. “It’s not as if you’re the only sick or injured person here right now.”

Mags thought about saying something, but his jaw hurt too much to move. In fact, everything hurt more and more the longer he sat here.

He winced as the Healer’s hands moved over his body, probing the places where the blows had fallen. Then he sighed with relief as the hands rested on those spots, as warmth poured from the hands, and the relief from pain followed the warmth.

“Your assailant has done this before,” the man said laconically. “He was quite methodical about inflicting the most pain while doing the least damage.”

“ ’s thet good?” Mags asked, as the room started to spin in circles around him. “Uh, I dunno’f’I’m gonna be sick—”

The man’s hands rested on his head a moment, and some of the dizziness cleared away, and with it the nausea.

“Well, it isn’t bad for you,” the Healer said. “It means most of this is soft tissue damage, and I can tend it myself without help. One decent night and a day of rest and you’ll be fit to go right out and Kirball to your heart’s content. Yes, yes, I know you are on one of the Kirball teams, and I am very much aware that your captain wants you ready for the first game. And you will be. But not until you get that day and night. So—”

A hand to the middle of his chest shoved Mags down onto the bed. He wasn’t expecting it, and fell right over.

“You need time for that concussion to clear up, and a number of medicines and some more Healing. You can talk to whosoever you want, but you stay there until tomorrow afternoon. Maybe even until the next morning, if I decide I have the time to continue treating you and you need it.”

Mags blinked up at the man, owlishly. At least there was only one of him now, not two. “Dinner?” he said hopefully, for now that the nausea had begun to ebb, his stomach was growling.

The Healer lost that irritated look, and chuckled. “You’re a resilient rascal. I think that can be managed.”

He tucked blankets in around Mags, and left him with a pitcher of water and a cup on a little table beside him. “Drink as much of that as you can—what I do tends to release a lot of nasty things that need to be purged out of you. The privy is right on the other side of this wall. Someone will come around with food for you in a bit. Someone else will be checking on you all night. Several someones, probably. Don’t get up except to visit the privy; you’ll find you are still dizzy if you do, and I don’t want you undoing what I did by falling.”

With that, the Healer left—

:I was listening. Are you sure you are going to be all right?: Dallen asked anxiously. :If that Healer is neglecting you—if you are really hurt—:

:I’m fine, : Mags reassured him, lying back and closing his eyes, because the room still had an unsettling tendency to move a little. :’E’s right, Dallen, I didn’ get hurt that bad, thanks to you. Wha’s goin’ on down i’ city? They ketch ’em?:

Mags’ unspoken prayer that the Heralds and Guards had caught the phony envoys was answered in the negative.

:No,: Dallen replied, sounding deflated. :No, they ran. They left behind their insane fellow, but there’s no sense to be gotten out of him.:

Mags sighed, and cursed a little. So, they were back to where they had begun with nothing to show for it.

:Maybe Bear can get something out of him,: Dallen suggested, :Or a really good Mindspeaker. And look on the bright side! They are foreign! Maybe this is what the Foreseers were on about!:

:Mebbe. Hope so.: Mags sighed. :Hate t’ go through this jest t’ end up wi’ ev’one still angry at me fer something I ain’t done yet.:

“Is it safe to come in?” asked Gennie from a little distance away.

“Reckon,” Mags said shortly, because his jaw still hurt. :Kin we talk like this?: