“He losing blood fast,” Doka said behind him. “Take, apply to cut.”
Teer wasn’t sure what Doka had handed Kard, but there was pressure along his middle back. The compress felt cool but dry, easing some of the pain that he was now noticing.
“It’s shallow, Teer, but your entire back is bleeding,” Kard said softly. “The compress should help clot the blood, but you’ve likely lost more than is safe already.”
Doka helped lift Teer up so Kard could wrap a cloth around his midsection to hold the dressing in place.
“Get him on the coach,” Kard instructed. “Give me one cursed reason not to line these fuckers up and deliver them as cargo.”
“Do what needs, no more,” Teer managed to get out.
“I see you’ve been listening to Doka. And me,” the bounty hunter said with a long sigh, the two of them lifting him up onto the driver’s seat. “I know Doka’s poultices,” he continued. “You’ll be fine, but we’ll want to clean the wound out and apply a new one tonight. You driving is a bad idea, so Doka will sit with you.”
“Star should follow, but we can tie her to the line,” Teer suggested, struggling to get the words out. “We still got everyone?”
“Seven prisoners, three rescuees. Everyone is alive,” Kard told him. “The one you punched out might not be okay in the end, but he’s breathing and my concern for him is limited.”
“Okay,” Teer said, leaning his side against the stagecoach to keep his wound clear. There was no cushion on the bench and he was leaning against hard wood. It shouldn’t feel quite as comfortable as it did.
“Doka, feed him, watch him,” Kard ordered.
“Easy,” she said, climbing up on the coach from the other side. Teer felt her lift him up to tuck a blanket and cushion beneath him. “He need rest.”
“Better on the coach than the horse,” Kard said. “Let’s get going. Even with your poultices, he’s better in a bed than here.”
21
Teer didn’t know what magical or mechanical wizardry was at play to smooth the ride on the stagecoach, but the few bumps that made it through made him glad for it. Doka’s poultice and wrap were keeping him from bleeding onto anything, but every bump jarred the cut and made him very aware of the long gash across his back.
The blood loss had left him tired and he was resting as best as he could. He was also holding his hunter across his lap, in case any of their prisoners decided that now was a good time to run. Kard was the only one of the three captors on horseback now, even if he seemed to regard corralling seven prisoners as straightforward enough.
Despite everything, they made it to nightfall without any issues.
“I’ll help handle the prisoners,” Teer offered, trying to rise from the driver’s bench.
“You not,” Doka snapped, her hand on his chest and pushing him back onto the bench. “You move too hard, you reopen gash. Doka help Kard. Teer sit. Stay.”
Teer didn’t know if the Kotan was familiar with the usual commands trained into dogs in the Unity. Probably. The tone was far too close to be accidental—but he obeyed anyway, leaning back into the blankets she’d set up on the coach for him and watching as the homesteader women carefully dismounted and set up their own camp, a short distance from where Kard and Doka were hauling the prisoners off the horses.
To his surprise, Rala came back to check on him after they had their tent set up.
“Mister Teer, right?” she asked. “Do you need anything?”
“I’m fine, miss,” he said. “Idleness chafes, but it helps heal.”
“Wanted to thank you,” she said shyly. “It’s…hard right now, but you saved us. We won’t forget.”
“Might be better to, to my mind,” Teer told her. “You don’t owe us anything, Miss Rala. We get paid to bring in scum like this. We’re glad to help.”
Rala shivered.
“Doka said…I don’t think she meant to, but she mentioned that you would have waited ’til morning without us being there,” the young woman admitted. “I…I’m not sure my ma would have made another night with those monsters.”
“We weren’t gonna leave you, Miss Rala,” Teer assured her. “We’ll get you to town safe.”
“I know,” Rala told him, and the sheer certainty in her voice touched him. “And thank you. For coming when no one else could have. We’d ’a died and died bad.”
“You didn’t, and they won’t hurt anyone else,” he said. “That’s the point, I think.”
She nodded and gave him a shy smile before heading back to her mother and aunt. Teer didn’t even want to guess at how badly they’d been handled. What he knew was enough for him to hope that the Carlon Wardkeeper decided to hang all of their prisoners, even with the effort it was taking to bring the bandits in alive.
“She strong one,” Doka said from his other side. He turned to find that the guide had returned to the coach and was smiling up at him. “The others not talk to men yet. Take time.”
“Monsters,” Teer said quietly, glaring over at the prisoners. “If we weren’t being paid extra to bring ’em in alive…”
“Do what needs, no more,” Doka reminded him. “Kill only when all else fails.”
“Right.” He exhaled and nodded. “Killing wasn’t even something I considered two tendays ago. So much changes.”
“Called growing up,” she said, hopping up onto the bench. “Kard handling prisoners and food. Doka help you. Ready to move?”
“Think so.”
He still took her offered arm to rise from the bench and moved slowly and carefully. Doka guided him down from the coach and over to where someone had already laid out his bedroll.
“Lie on face,” she ordered. “Wound needs checking.”
He obeyed, hissing in pain as she gently removed his shirt and the wrapped poultice.
“Poultice special,” Doka told him. “Ingredients easy, making hard. Shaman’s work—work better when shaman applies.”
“You said you have some training?” Teer asked as
