Laban woke slowly, in a haze of pain. His chest felt painfully compressed, as if some God had rested a mountain on his fragile body. The grief and shock of losing his Companion hit him all over again, there was an empty, dark space in his mind that should have been occupied by Sanaa's brightness and love. Gradually, he opened his eyes, wincing at the grey light that filtered in through the curtains of the Healers' infirmary. Two people were standing by the window, talking softly.

"It is a miracle Laban survived a major coronary episode." The Healer stated. Laban looked through half-closed eyes at the stout, gray-haired figure. It was Healer Galen, the same man who had attended to Sanaa during her labor.

"More like a terrible curse." The other person, a tall, stately woman replied. This was Zarah, the Queen's Own "Rolan conveys that all the Companions are mourning the loss deeply. To lose a Companion and survive." The Queen's Own bowed her head, communicating her pain and loss.

Healer Galen glanced over at the bed, and smiled slightly. "Zarah, Laban has returned to consciousness." Galen lifted Laban's wrist, checking his pulse. "We all thought we had lost you a fortnight ago. When you passed out after your Companion's death, we all thought the worst, but the Bell did not ring. You are tougher than we ever could have imagined, my friend."

Zarah sat down on a chair opposite Laban's bed. "And by the Gods, the foal survived, too. Everybody thought he would be delivered dead, but the little lad raised his head and started trying to get to his feet. Herald Timothy's Companion Charisse had foaled about two days previous, and volunteered to care for the orphan, bless her heart. She has named him Tynan."

"Nobody doubts the love and willingness of a Companion." Galen shook his head in awe as he stirred a powder from a small glass tube into a beaker of dark wine. "Everybody hurts when one dies."

"You'll be bedridden for a long time, I'm afraid." The Healer said, making eye contract with Laban "And out of active duty forever. There are few who survive episodes as massive as yours, and those who survive are in fragile health for the rest of their lives. I'm so sorry."

Laban lowered his eyes from the Healer's face, his face contorting with physical and emotional pain. What did it matter now? His Sanaa was gone, his light was lost. Nothing matters now, Laban decided. He cradled his head in his hands, tears running down his fingers. Exhausted and ill, he sunk back down onto the pillow.

Zarah sighed heavily, and took Galen aside. "Laban has suffered massive psychological damage. Many Heralds who lose a Companion and survive retreat into themselves, and never interact with others again. Don't expect him to be the same once he recovers from the episode." Zarah's hands clenched at her side, so hard that her knuckles turned white. Off and on through the years, she had been Laban's lover, and trusted friend, they had even had a child together, a daughter who was currently being fostered with relatives to the south. By the Gods, Zarah thought, it just wasn't fair! Not for him, not for me, not for anyone. Rolan's mind touched hers, communicating sympathy and acting as a balm on Zarah's wounded soul.

"Here, give this to him." Galen pressed the goblet of wine into Zarah's hands. "It contains herbs to help him sleep and slow his heart, so there's less strain on the damaged areas."

Zarah lifted the goblet to Laban's lips as Galen held his head up. The man drank thirstily, but his eyes were focused inwards, and red from tears. Galen pushed Laban gently back down on the bed. The former weasponsmaster did not struggle, or even respond to the Healer's touch.

Zarah touched Laban's hand, it felt cold and clammy, as if some vital energy had been sucked dry. Laban's eyes closed, and he fell into a drug induced doze. Galen looked at the sleeping man "Someone should stay by him, in case he wakes or has another episode. I'll get one of my trainees to watch him." "No." Zarah shook her head, her voice cracking. "I'll be here for a bit. I need some time to think."

"As you wish." Galen exited the room, shutting the door softy. Zarah clung to Laban's hand, weeping. Life goes on, a rational part of her mind chided, Heralds to train, conferences to attend, Royal business to be carried out. But for a moment it time, it did not matter to Zarah. All that mattered was doing as much as she could for a fallen fellow Herald. With a sullen rumble of thunder, the sky began to drizzle again, and somewhere on the Companion's field, a foal whinnied in fear.