Chapter 21 – A Healer's Duty
Time slowed.
Fjornir shouted at Eirin, at the healers. He held Ralof's limp body in his arms. The healers scrambled around Eirin and opened the tent flaps. Fjornir lowered Ralof onto a pallet in the Healer's tent.
Eirin stood there, watching the healers remove Ralof's uniform. Blood flowed everywhere. Someone was grasping her arm, shouting, then talking softly. Risa shouted at the healers.
Ralof's entire left torso and upper thigh were a deep shade of red. A gash the width of his arm stretched across the thigh. His left arm... Eirin saw bright white piercing through his dirty, bloody skin.
"Eirin!" The Healer turned to the man who shouted her name into her ear. Fjornir. Grim-faced Fjornir. His mouth made voiceless words. He grabbed Eirin's shoulders and shook her. "Eirin. Eirin! Ralof was hit by a dragon. You have to Heal him!"
Eirin stared at Fjornir. His words made no sense. "Ralof?" she asked, quietly.
"Dying!" Fjornir shouted.
Fjornir watched as comprehension hit Eirin. Her eyes widened and she burst from Fjornir's grasp into the tent.
"Ralof!" she screamed. She fell to the ground next to him. She held his unconscious face in her hands. Her voice lowered to a whimper. "Ralof?" Her shaking hands begun to glow. "Ralof... wake up..." Eirin began to sob.
His body, examine his body, she ordered herself. His wounds still bled; he still had a heart beat. His torso... The red color was turning purple. Internal bleeding, she heard from somewhere in her mind. She pressed her palms against his torso. Yellow light spread from her hands throughout Ralof's broken body. She moved one hand to the gash in his thigh. Tears made her vision blurry. The gash began to close, but stopped once it reached the width of her thumb. Eirin removed her hand. Another healer began to stitch the wound.
"Can't you heal his break?" a young healer asked Eirin. She shook her head. She knew doing so would heal the bone at a bad angle.
"Set it," Eirin managed to say.
Three healers held Ralof in place. Risa held the broken arm and examined the bone. "It's shattered." She frowned at Eirin and motioned for her to examine the arm.
Eirin saw pieces of white bone had broken through the thin membrane that normally held bones together. Risa was right, the rest of the bone was likely the same. "Let me try," Eirin said. She placed her hand directly onto the bone. Her lunch threatened a reappearance. She closed her eyes and felt a small piece of bone, still attached by a membrane but moving around. She felt more of the same. Tiny pieces of bone. She sobbed, but was determined to try. She wrapped two fingers and a thumb around the exposed bone as Risa held Ralof's arm, as best she could, in its natural position. A yellow glow obscured the other healers' views of the wound. Eirin squeezed her eyes shut.
Eirin felt weak, but continued. When she no longer felt breaks in the exposed bone, she stopped. She looked down, and frowned. She saw no cracks and the bone was fairly straight – Risa had done a good job – but normally shattered limbs never work properly again. She held her hand to the torn flesh, and it closed, slightly. Eirin felt dizzy and had to stop.
"Stitch it, Risa," Eirin said in a whisper. She was on her hands and knees. The dizziness subsided and she looked again at Ralof's torso. His left rib area was a deep purple, but the surrounding flesh was the brown-yellow color of a healing bruise.
She lost her lunch.
Arms approached from behind and enveloped her. "Eirin, come, rest." Fjornir was holding her. She felt herself being led to another area of the tent. Fjornir sat behind her. She reclined against his body. Her head lay on his cold, hard steel chest. His arms wrapped around her. Her breathing was shallow. She was nearly drained of energy.
Risa walked over to Eirin. "Drink." She planted a canteen of water beside Eirin and returned to Ralof. Fjornir held the bottle to Eirin's mouth. She took a few sips.
"The dragon..." Eirin said.
"Ralof and others were firing arrows at the dragon." Fjornir said. "This one was smart. It used its tail against us. We never saw it coming... The spikes on its tail impaled two others. Ralof... the spike just missed his body, but caught his leg. He was thrown. Landed against a stone wall."
Eirin's sobbing began again.
"He still lives, Eirin."
"So much blood." She choked on her sobs.
Risa stood as the other healers placed poultices over the torn flesh and bruised torso. She walked over to Eirin again. "He's lost a lot of blood, but I think he'll live. I'll keep an eye on his torso. The arm, however... Well, we did our best, hmm?" Eirin sniffled and stared at the old woman. The healer turned to Fjornir. "Any other wounded?"
He shook his head. "Two dead, but injuries... nothing worth worrying about right now. There were still some Imperials inside the fort, but I left as soon as the dragon was killed, to bring Ralof here."
Eirin clasped onto Fjornir's arms. Her body trembled as sobbing overtook her again.
Risa retrieved a folded, time-worn piece of paper from her apron. She held the paper out to Eirin. "Ralof had this tucked in his uniform. A note. From you." Eirin was confused, but took the paper. Risa walked back to the other healers.
As Eirin examined the stained, top fold of the paper with Ralof's name written by her own hand, she heard the voices of the healers raise into shouts.
No heart beat, one of them said.