scatter of dense bushes.
Cara climbed down and surveyed the terrain. Already the drivers unloaded the wagons with unseemly haste despite Anahita's shrieks of anger. First one wagon, then a second and third, and more, trundled out, leaving the party stranded by the pond.
'David,' said Cara, 'I think you'd better get all those tents up. And get-ah, there you are, M. Applegate.'
'What in heaven's name is going on?' Yomi asked. She cast a disgusted glance back toward the handful of actors clustered around Anahita, and a puzzled one toward the stream of wagons heading away from them. 'Are we being abandoned?'
Now others came up to join the discussion: Joanna Singh, Rajiv, Maggie, and Marco. The actors had by now split into two groups: those milling around Anahita, and those with Diana and Gwyn, who were already unrolling the Company tent.
Cara caught Marco's glance, and nodded. 'We'll need all the tents up, fires, as many open fires as you can get going, and I want to start boiling water now.'
'Oh, hell,' said David, as if he had just figured out what was going on. 'I'll do what I can, but I can't stand the sight of blood.'
'Then we'll put you in charge of preparations,' said Marco. 'With Jo and Rajiv and Maggie. Start by gathering brush. Cara, will you need attendants?'
'You certainly, Marco. Anyone else who can stand it. The rest will have to fetch and carry.' She watched as Anahita collapsed onto a chair set up for her by Hyacinth. 'Or else stay out of the way.'
David and Joanna and Rajiv and Maggie left.
'I beg your pardon, Dr. Hierakis,' said Yomi. 'But I'm still confused. What's going on?'
'We're about to receive the wounded.'
'Ah,' said Yomi. 'From the battle. I'll go tell the actors. I'm sure they can help out.' She left.
Cara sighed. 'So blithely. She hasn't an inkling, Marco, of what we're about to see.'
'They chose to come here. Now they have to face the consequences of that choice. If they can't endure it, let them go home.'
Cara snorted. 'You're not very compassionate today, are you, Marco?'
'I save my compassion for where it will do the most good. It's all very well to spout this nonsense about the universality of theater, but it's still nothing more than a holiday for them. We'll see how they like a dose of the painful truth.'
'My, you're bitter today.' But she followed his gaze and saw that he was looking toward Diana Brooke-Holt, watching her as she and Hal and Gwyn extended the poles and lifted the canvas weight of the Company tent. 'Ah. Test of fire for the sweet young thing?'
Marco started, glanced at her swiftly, and grunted in annoyance as he turned on his heel and stalked away in the direction of the pond.
'Well!' Cara considered his back as he strode off toward David and Maggie, who were gathering brush. 'What does that mean?' But Marco's affairs did not concern her now. She went to assemble her medical kit.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When the first riders were sighted, coming in toward the camp, Diana felt sick with fear. She hoisted two buckets of water from the pond and lugged them over to the ring of campfires. Dr. Hierakis was swearing fluently in Rhuian about the lack of containers in which to boil water. At the far end of the pond a single tent had been set aside for Anahita and anyone who wanted to languish there with her, a total of five of the actors and none of Soerensen's party.
The riders glinted in the sun as they pulled up a respectful distance outside of camp. They wore, over their scarlet shirts, segmented body armor with scaled tasses hanging down to cover their legs to the knees. A few wore helmets, although most had slung their helmets on leather straps over their saddles. Altogether, they presented a formidable picture, and there were only fifty of them.
Diana stared, realized she was staring, and picked up the two empty buckets to make a trip back to the pond.
'Diana! Can you help me over here?' It was Gwyn, setting up the Company's screens into a square.
She hurried over. 'What is this?'
'The doctor wants an outdoor surgery. Tie that there-'
Diana watched the riders from her vantage point. 'It doesn't look as if this group has any wounded, or as if they're even going to come into our camp-' She broke off as Dr. Hierakis and Marco strode across the grass to the group of waiting jaran. Their gestured conversation was fascinating to watch, since it was obvious that no one spoke a common language. Soon enough Owen wandered over to study them.
'Excuse me.' Diana whirled, to see David and Maggie carrying a long, rectangular table. They brought it inside the screens and set it down. David stepped back to examine it. 'Well, it was the best I could cobble together.'
Out by the riders, the doctor and an older jaran man had reached some kind of agreement. They walked together back to the tents, and behind them, walked-or limped-a number of the riders. As they came closer, Diana could see that they were indeed wounded: one man had an arrow sticking out of his thigh, broken off; another had blood seeping from his right side; a third had a bloody strip of cloth tied around his left eye.
'Marco, get my kit. Maggie, where's Jo? I want her to stay in my tent and run sterilization on my instruments, so we'll need someone-one of the actors, say-to fetch and carry. That should be easy enough for them. David, we'll need another table, the wagons will be showing up by dusk. Can you find-yes, leave Rajiv in charge of the water; perhaps one of the actors can help you.' Dr. Hierakis caught Diana staring at her.
Diana felt like she was being considered by an expert. She shifted uneasily and glanced at the elderly jaran man next to the doctor. He had a kindly face-for a savage-and, meeting her gaze, he smiled at her and nodded.
'Of course,' said Dr. Hierakis abruptly. 'If you think you can stand it, Diana, you can take water-boiled water, of course-to the wounded who are waiting to be treated. Goddess knows, they'll be thirsty enough, and a pretty face will likely do them as much good as the drink. Can you manage it, do you think?'
It did not sound precisely like a challenge, but Diana became aware all at once that Marco Burckhardt had paused and was looking at her. 'Certainly,' she said, hoping there was no betraying quaver in her voice.
'Good,' said the doctor. 'Tell Rajiv what you're about, and get some cups. And a spoon, perhaps, for the worst of them.''
But the cup sufficed, Diana quickly discovered. Of the fifty riders who had come in, at least three-quarters had some kind of injury that clearly kept them from fighting but not from riding. They settled in on the ground, waiting patiently as Marco and a young dark-haired rider performed triage and sent the worst-injured up to the privacy of the screens. Quinn got a cup, too, and they took water to each rider in turn. Diana soon suspected that many of these men could have gotten water for themselves but were content to wait in order to receive it from her hands.
The few older men, lined, sun-weathered, with silver in their hair, smiled directly at her and spoke a few words which she guessed to be some kind of thank you. The young ones never looked her in the eye, or if they did, not for more than an instant. But it was obvious that their apparent shyness did not stem from disgust. Quite the opposite, if anything; many times she turned only to see a young man blush and look away from her.
By the time they finished with the first group, a second group had ridden in. Things went much the same. The afternoon sun spread a layer of warmth along the ground, but it was shallow, and Diana knew that when night came, so would the cold. What if it rained again? Did these men even have blankets?
A second surgery had been set up in the Company tent, and Diana watched as Dr. Hierakis, now with two elderly jaran riders flanking her, walked into the tent. She had rolled up the sleeves of her tunic. Blood spattered the yellow fabric. Behind her, Maggie carried two unlit lanterns.
'Here.' Diana knelt beside a young man with cornflower blue eyes and fair hair. One shoulder piece dangled, cut away, and underneath it his scarlet shirt was damp. 'You must be thirsty. Where are you wounded?'
An instant later she realized that the red shirt was doubly red, damp with blood not water, and that he was
