Gersalius was sitting on a pile of bedding, smiling. He had a mug in his hands. 'Elaine, what brings you in search of me?'
Thordin offered her a mug.
'Surely that is yours,' she said.
'Yes, but I can get another.' With a smile, he handed her the mug.
'Thank you.' The mug was wonderfully hot to her hands. Steam rose from the cup like sweet-smelling ghosts. The tea was a strong spearmint faintly touched with sugar. Breathing in the steam was almost as refreshing as drinking the tea itself.
'How goes it with the wounded?' Thordin asked.
'That is why I have come,' Elaine said.
Thordin poured a third mug of tea from a small earthware pot, then set it back on its warmer. He took a pinch of sugar from a small pouch at his belt, added the sugar to the tea, then stirred it with a small silver spoon.
'With a few comforts, any place can be home,' Gersalius said.
'My sentiments, exactly,' Thordin said.
'Why were you seeking me, Elaine?' the wizard asked.
'Konrad and I have never seen magical healing before. We aren't sure what to do.'
'A cleric heals by laying on of hands. The wound just closes up and is healed,' Gersalius said.
'Completely healed?' She made it a question.
'Yes,' he said.
She shook her head. 'But these injuries aren't completely healed.'
Gersalius sat forward sharply, spilling hot tea on his robes. He gave a small yip, pulling the cloth away from his body. He set the mug on the ground. 'Tell me exactly what you mean, Elaine. This could be very important.'
She looked from one man to the other. Thordin appeared as worried as the wizard. 'Are the wounds suppose to heal completely?' she asked.
'Yes,' Gersalius said.
'Not always,' Thordin said.
The wizard stared at the warrior. 'A spell either works or it does not.'
'I was a fighter long before I came to Kartakass,' Thordin said. 'A cleric can heal a wound, but when I had many wounds, not all of them healed. They were better, but some still bled a little, others were only partially healed. Kilsendra, the cleric that came over with me, said each healing has only so much power to it. It heals what it can, then stops. It might take several attempts to heal completely.'
Gersalius frowned. 'It is true I did not adventure much. I owned a little magic shop where others bought supplies, but with my magic, a spell either works or does not. If the spell components are insufficient, the spell simply does not work at all.'
Thordin shook his head. 'Healing is not like that, or so Kilsendra told me.'
The wizard frowned. 'Most unobservant of me, if you are right.'
Elaine sipped her tea and turned to Thordin. He seemed to know more of healing than the wizard. 'If a wound did not heal completely, what did you do to tend it?'
'I'm not sure what you mean.'
'Did you cleanse it? Bandage it?'
'I think so.' He looked puzzled. 'Why couldn't you treat them as any other wound?'
'Normal wounds don't just sit there full of blood. Konrad's afraid if we cleanse the wounds we'll start them bleeding, and the blood might not stop.'
'Why wouldn't it stop bleeding?' Thordin asked.
Gersalius answered, 'I understand his concern. What if what keeps the blood from flowing is some sort of magic field. Would touching it destroy it? If the spell that kept the blood from flowing was destroyed, would normal methods be able to stop the blood, at all?'
'Yes, that is what we fear.'
Thordin frowned. 'I don't remember anything like that ever happening.'
'Are you sure?' Elaine asked.
'I am sure I never knew of anything like that happening, but whether it ever happened …' He shrugged. 'I am not a healer.'
'How did your friend, the cleric, handle partially healed injuries?' Gersalius asked. He was once again reclining on the furs, tea in hand. The spilled tea was a small wet spot on his robe.
'Kilsendra laid hands on me a second or third time. Sometimes she had to wait a day to regain her strength, but she healed us herself.'
'And the wounds?' Elaine asked.
His eyes grew distant, as if he were seeing things long ago and faraway. 'We did nothing to them. We waited until Kilsendra could heal us.'
'So you don't really know what would happen if more mundane methods were used on magically healed wounds,' Gersalius said.
Thordin shook his head slowly. 'I guess I don't.' He looked at Elaine. 'Is the elven cleric awake yet?'
'No, he still sleeps, but the end of his arm has healed over so we didn't have to cauterize it.'
Gersalius choked on his tea. When he was done sputtering, he said, 'I wouldn't apply fire to any of the wounds. I think that might stop the flesh from healing further.'
Elaine suddenly felt cold, and it had nothing to do with the winter wind. What if they had performed normal care? Would they have condemned all three men to being wounded forever? Konrad said that burns were some of the most painful of all injuries. The elf's arm would have been a burned stump instead of the smoothness it was. The arm looked for all the world as if the elf had been born without that arm, a deformity rather than an injury.
'What should we do?' she asked.
'Nothing,' Gersalius said. 'Wait until the elf wakes. Let him tend the wounds.'
'What if one of the wounds begins to bleed? What if the men go into shock? Can we treat them with herbs, or would that be harmful?'
'Do what you must to keep them alive,' Gersalius said. 'But the bare minimum, I think.'
Thordin nodded. 'I agree.'
'All right, I'll tell Konrad what you advise.' She handed the empty tea mug to Thordin. 'Thank you for the advice, and the tea.' She stood, half-stooping, and lifted the tent flap.
Outside, the air was still as glass and cold enough to hurt when she drew a breath. She stood there for a moment, studying the sky. Clouds had moved in, turning the sky to a perfect whiteness. It threatened snow, but that stillness in the air felt more like thunder. She had only once before seen thunder and lightning in the midst of a snowstorm. It was rare, but so much that was happening was unusual, what was one more event? A little thunderstorm in the dead of winter was a minor thing compared to what she had seen this day. Whatever the cause, the air was close and threatening.
Elaine glanced at Blaine, still puttering before the fire. She almost asked him if he felt it, too, but if he didn't, she would be making him worry for nothing. If the sense was a vision, it would grow. If it wasn't, it would fade, and only Elaine need worry about it.
'She clutched her cloak tight around her and hurried back to Konrad. He was kneeling by the elf, his back to the tent flap. He glanced back, a sound or the cold alerting him to her entrance. He motioned her to him.
She pushed her hood back and knelt beside him. 'What's wrong?' she whispered.
His hand was feeling for the pulse in the elf's neck. 'His heart is not beating like it should.'
'Perhaps it is normal for an elf?'
He shook his head. 'Before, it was strong and sure; now it is thready, fluttering under my hand. See for yourself.'
He rubbed her hands together to banish the cold. She never touched the wounded with icy hands if she could help it. She felt the smooth skin of the neck. The pulse hesitated, then gave a few rapid beats, then settled back into a steady rhythm. She held her hand there for a few moments, but the pulse remained steady.
'I felt the flutter, but he seems fine now,' she said.
