the front, but now. . Jaws had crushed the back of his neck, broken his spine. Tooth marks imprinted the skin, but the neck itself had filled back up, like a waterskin inflating. He moved well enough that it was clear the spine was not severed. The tooth marks filled with blood like miniature rain puddles with rain.
But the blood did not flow. The wound looked raw, but the blood seemed to be held in suspension by some invisible force. If the wound were swabbed with a damp cloth, would it bleed afresh?. Would they start it to bleeding? Would it stop once it started? With magic healing, who knew?
Randwulf watched her face. 'Is it that ugly?' He was young and handsome, and the horror on her face bothered him.
He had handed her a way to hurt him; all she had to do was lie. The one thing she could not do.
'It is not the appearance of the wound, but the terrible injury it must have been. Your spine was broken, snapped. How can you be healed of that?'
'I don't know,' he said.
'Is this the first time you. . died?' she asked.
His small white teeth bit his lower lip, his eyes uncertain. 'The first time.'
'Were you frightened?'
'Of dying?'
She nodded.
'I was frightened when the wolves grabbed my arms. They held me with their mouths the way two men would have held me with their hands. Then I heard the man-wolf behind me. His breath was loud and hot against my neck. I think I screamed. There was a moment of sharp, horrible pain, then nothing. I didn't feel a thing.' He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, fingertips tracing the tooth marks, ever so lightly. 'No pain, but I felt myself slide away. I felt myself die.'
Elaine just stared at him. She couldn't think of anything to say.
'Elaine, may I speak with you,' Konrad said. He stood, forced to stoop by the low ceiling. He went to the tent flap. 'Outside.'
Elaine fought to keep to her face blank, stood, and followed him outside. The wind hit her face like a cold slap. She lifted her hood in place, struggling against the wind to hold the furred cloak close to her body.
Konrad's long hair spilled over his face, tangled by the icy wind. With his back to the wind, his cloak streamed out around him; no need to hold it next to his body-the wind did that on its own. The tent cracked and bucked in the rising gusts.
Konrad led her a few steps from the tent, hand half-draped over her shoulders. He drew her into the circle of his arms so they could talk above the wind and rippling tent hide. That was all. The physical closeness that made her chest tight meant nothing to him. Elaine reminded herself of that as he leaned near her cheek to speak.
'If we cleanse the wounds, will they start to bleed again and not stop? Does the magic used to partially heal them change how we should treat them?'
She wanted to say something clever and certain, but that would have been an outrageous lie. Lives might be at stake. It was not a time for lies. 'I don't know.'
'You know more magic than I do,' he said. He was really looking to her for an answer. Elaine had never claimed more knowledge than she had. If she didn't know, she always said so, but now was sorely tempted. Konrad's face was close enough to kiss. His eyes looking at her, seeing her.
Elaine drew a deep sigh. 'I've only been studying magic for a few days, Konrad. I'm no expert, but Gersalius is.' She was rather pleased with that last thought, pleased to have come up with a good idea, if not a good answer.
'I cannot leave them alone. Could you speak with the wizard, then report back to me?'
'I could stay with them while you spoke with Ger-salius.' It was a generous offer. The last thing Elaine wanted to do was go back in that tent. Randwulf's serious eyes and his strange voice as he had related his death story had frightened her. She preferred even his teasing and flirting to that.
'No, if anything should go wrong, I am the best healer in camp-at least awake. And the wizard will speak more freely to you. Don't you think?'
Again, he was asking her opinion. This time she could give an answer. 'Yes.'
'Then go talk with the wizard. I'll wait here. I won't tend their wounds unless something goes wrong.'
'I'll hurry,' she said.
He gave an abrupt nod, almost a bow, and ducked back inside the tent. Elaine stood there for a moment in the rattling wind. Konrad had asked her opinion twice in one day. It was not only a record, it was a nine days' wonder. What was wrong with him?
«^»
THIRTEEN
Gersalius's tent was smaller than the rest, with strange curlicues of carved wood mounted above the entrance. Elaine hadn't really inspected the wizard's tent closely. Now she looked at the wooden carvings. They were attached to the tent itself, not tied on. It was almost as if the wood grew straight out of the hide. She could make nothing of the carvings themselves. They were of no animal or image she was familiar with, just designs of wood and paint.
Elaine called, 'Gersalius, it's me, Elaine. I need to speak with you.'
The wind gusted, making the tent strain and pull at the tiny tent stakes. The wood carvings swayed in the wind as if they were antlers on some live beast.
'Gersalius?' Elaine called. She waited in the cold, huddled against the wind. 'Gersalius, please, if you're in there, answer me.'
When there was still no answer, she turned and walked back to the fire. Elaine was cooking the camp dinner-sausages in a skillet over the flames. They actually smelled good. Of course, even Blaine couldn't do a lot of damage reheating sausages. It was almost foolproof.
There was a smaller saucepan sitting to one side. Blaine stirred it with a wooden spoon. An odor rose from the saucepan and caught the back of her throat with a bitter taste. Before she could say a word, Biaine poured the foul sauce over the lovely sausages. He put a lid over the skillet and set it to one side. He'd probably say he was letting it simmer. Biaine was the worst cook in the world, but he had pretensions of being a gourmet. His 'improvements, experiments with herbs, were legendary.
He smiled up at her, pleased with himself. 'I'm trying a new sauce tonight. Want a whiff?'
'I already smelled it,' she said, a brave smile in place. Biaine was not only the worst cook in the world, he was oblivious to the deficiency. No matter how much Thordin and the others complained, Biaine never quite believed them. He went on his cheerful way, crumbling dried herbs, chopping roots, and trying to poison them all.
'Have you seen Gersalius?'
'I think he's in Thordin's tent.' He turned back to an earthenware bowl on the ground by his knee. A cloth was tied over it. He cut the string, lifting the cloth to reveal a grayish mass. 'I made stuffing before we left. All I have to do is heat it.'
'Did Mala help you make it?' she asked hopefully.
He grinned. 'Of course not. You know I like to do all my own cooking.'
'Of course,' she said. She left him to ruin their dinner and went in search of Thordin's tent. He shared it with Konrad, so it was big enough to accommodate a visitor.
The wind died down as suddenly as it had sprung up. In the fresh silence, Elaine heard the murmur of the men's voices, a soft, rumbling sound that was somehow comforting. Elaine had spent a great deal of her life listening to that strong, bluff, blunt sound.
She bent over, calling, 'Gersalius, are you in there?'
The tent flap swung open. Thordin's face and arm popped out. 'Elaine, come join us. I think if we all squeeze there may be room.'
It occurred to her for the first time that Thordin had seen clerics work their healing magic. He might know something valuable, too. She crawled into the tent, tugging her heavy cloak through the small opening.
