Clive and Bush are standing by the door when he arrives. A jerk of the doctor's chin indicates the reason why.
Damned idiots, he thinks fiercely, fingers clenching on the papers in his hand. When he approaches the chair, however, he understands their reluctance.
He smooths out the orders, forcing his hand to relax. The boy will have need of this commission in more ways than one.
"Mr. Hornblower, it is time to leave this place." Horatio looks up at the gentle touch on his shoulder. Muscles tense enough to break – if his eyes are any indication, he already has. "Come along, son."