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Abominable anguish greeted Mab when she awoke again. A horrible dragging pain on her backside; she felt the flesh tear apart, when someone pulled the arrow from her wound. During her transport from the battle field to Cair-Ebrauc she had been only semiconscious. Now someone was treating her injuries. She shortly wondered if she had been found by other tribesmen. A firm hand pressed a soaked cloth on her wound, a cry burst out of her throat. She tried to wind herself away but this only increased the hurting. Quickly all strength left her body again and she fell back into unconsciousness.
The healer continued. He treated the wounds of all the captured. Most of them had resisted and fought. They all looked at him in disgust and hatred but there was no use in defying him. They had been brought inside the fort. Aurelianus had left guards with them. There was no way escaping as bound and watched as they were. So the healer did not worry about his own safety, nor did he worry much about theirs. It was still quite normal for good situated families to keep slaves. Christian or not, the Romans had shown the British people the comfortable and the lucrative sides of this ancient habit. Sometimes, the rivaling barbarian tribes themselves had sold their prisoners or even their own people to the Romans, promising themselves benefits by that.
He heard voices coming closer. Aurelianus himself was giving instructions to one of his messengers. When they approached the healer, he asked, "In what condition are they?" A last look on his patients the healer answered, "Well, well, indeed Sire! Just a few scratches they have." But his master gave him a questioning look. "Well of course except of her.", he mentioned towards Mab. "It is a wonder that she is still alive with a severe wound like that." Mab was moaning slightly as if she had heard it. But actually she was not aware of her surroundings still fighting against the pain. "But I wouldn't worry about her. Those barbarians are quite tenacious Sire!", he affirmed to Aurelianus. "Give her a night and there will be no problems with the transport." "Good, good, we can't afford to wait any longer.", the commander said; "The next ships with traders will arrive in three weeks, then we have to be on the market in Durnovaria."
Mab didn't return that night, nor the following nights. At first Frik had been sure that there would be nothing to worry about. Actually he had been quite happy with being on his own instead of getting stressed by his mistress. He had enjoyed the peace but after several days he wondered why he had not heard anything of his Queen. Not only that she hadn't even given him further instructions or tasks to fulfill, she also had not returned for a single night to her realm. The latter was the most distressing one. She needed the energy her crystals and the earth of Britain herself could give her, especially in times of low faith. She never stayed away for too long, but more than a week? That was most uncommon of her. He wondered if he should do something. She had wanted to go into the Yr Hen Ogledd – the old north. There in the region of Brough she had wanted to meet with an ambassador of the Picts. What could keep her there? Perhaps she was in need of his assistance. At least it was him to be the diplomatically skilled one. He decided to venture north. There he would try to find her, either way, by himself or with help of the people there.