Chapter 6
-----IT was Gandalf that brought the first tidings. With a handful of horsemen he came in the middle morning, riding as escort to a line of wains. At once he went to Denethor. The Lord of the City sat now in a high chamber above the Hall of the White Tower with Pippin at his side; and through the dim windows, north and south and east, he bent his dark eyes, as if to pierce the shadows of doom that ringed him round. Most to the North he looked, and would pause at whiles to listen, as if by some ancient art his ears might hear the thunder of hoofs on the plains far away.
"Is Faramir come?" he asked.
"No," said Gandalf. "But he still lived when I left him. Yet he resolved to stay with the rearguard, lest the retreat over the Pelennor become a rout. He may, perhaps, hold his men together long enough, but I doubt it. He is pitted against a foe too great. For one has come that I feared."
"Not—not the Dark Lord?" cried Pippin, forgetting his place in his terror.
Denethor laughed bitterly. "Nay, not yet, Master Peregrin! He will not come save only to triumph over me when all is won. He uses others as his weapons. So do all great lords, if they are wise, Master Halfling. Or why should I sit here in my tower and think, and watch, and wait, spending even my sons? For I can still wield a brand."
He stood up and cast open his long black cloak, and behold! he was clad in mail beneath, and girt with a long sword, great-hilted in a sheath of black and silver. "Thus have I walked, and thus now for many years have I slept," he said, "lest with age the body should grow soft and timid."
"Yet now under the Lord of Barad-dur the most fell of all his captains is already master of your outer walls," said Gandalf. "King of Angmar long ago, Sorcerer, Ringwraith, Lord of the Nazgul, a spear of terror in the hand of Sauron, shadow of despair."
"Then, Mithrandir, you had a foe to match you," said Denethor. "For myself, I have long known who is the chief captain of the hosts of the Dark Tower. Is this all that you have returned to say? Or can it be that you have withdrawn because you are overmatched?"
Pippin trembled, fearing that Gandalf would be stung to sudden wrath, but his fear was needless. "It might be so," Gandalf answered softly. "But our trial of strength is not yet come. And if words spoken of old be true, not by the hand of man shall he fall, and hidden from the Wise is the doom that awaits him. However that may be, the Captain of Despair does not press forward, yet. He rules rather according to the wisdom that you have just spoken, from the rear, driving his slaves in madness on before.
"Nay, I came rather to guard the hurt men that can yet be healed; for the Rammas is breached far and wide, and soon the host of Morgul will enter in at many points. And I came chiefly to say this. Soon there will be battle on the fields. A sortie must be made ready. Let it be of mounted men. In them lies our brief hope, for in one thing only is the enemy still poorly provided: he has few horsemen."
"And we also have few. Now would the coming of Rohan be in the nick of time," said Denethor.
"We are likely to see other newcomers first," said Gandalf. "Another army is come from the Black Gate, crossing from the north-east."
"Some have accused you, Mithrandir, of delighting to bear ill news," said Denethor. "but to me this is not longer news: it was known to me ere nightfall yesterday. As for the sortie, I had already given thought to it. Let us go down."
-The Return of the King, by J.R.R. Tolkien
-----
"WELL, I guess they're not coming back for awhile," said Adrienne, after an hour had passed without Kavila and Megan's return. "I hope nothing's happened to them."
"I heard rumors of a caravan of wounded men entering the city while I was speaking with the cartwright," Vilad said. "They may have gone to help in the Houses of Healing."
Evening was fast approaching, and the group was busy putting the last two wheels on the second giant crossbow. They had had to lift them up to put the wheels on, so that the engines would be slightly elevated above the ground, and thus could be moved more easily. This had proven difficult, since the machines were large and in many parts solid wood; the task had required the aid of all present.
"Somebody had better go check the Houses of Healing and make certain Megan and Kavila are there," Sarah suggested once they were finished.
"I'll go," said Erin. "Where are those maps again?" Once she had found the map of the fifth level, she glanced quickly at it. "Oh, here's the Houses of Healing. They're not far from here at all. I'll be back soon!" She left quickly.
The darkness of the streets was a disturbing contrast to the bright torchlight of the armory. Erin felt fear rising in her, coiling in her stomach like a snake. She should have had Adrienne or Sarah come with her. She shouldn't be out here alone. There were others on the streets, but not many, mostly tall soldiers in clanking armor whose passing startled rather than reassured her. Erin, you're almost sixteen years old, she scolded herself. You're way too old to be scared of the dark. Now, the map said to go this way until you get to a cross-street. She was only partway to the cross-street, which she could very faintly make out in the dark, when she heard cries from some of the lower levels. Though she couldn't make out the words, she could hear the alarm and anxiety in the men's voices.
She hurried to the battlement, peering over it intensely, pressing her glasses against her face. Her eyesight was quite poor to begin with, and she had been due in for a new pair of glasses before she left her world, so she found it especially difficult to make out what was happening down on the fields. But presently even she could see the fleeing men, and she realized with a sinking heart that Faramir was returning. The Pelennor was lost, and the men were retreating.
Stumbling in the dark, Erin made her way back to the armory. She burst in, breathing hard, and Sarah, Adrienne, Vilad, and Kalva all looked to her with alarm. "Faramir is retreating! The army's coming back!" Erin managed to say, and then everyone was following her breathlessly back out the door to the battlement.
Even in the minute and a half it had taken Erin to gather her friends, the situation had visibly worsened. The men Erin had seen before had been a company of mainly wounded men, fleeing before the main part of the army. Now came the rest of the men, marching in a much more orderly manner, despite the obvious desperation of their position. In the darkness they looked almost like ants, or perhaps dark spirits marching out of the night to help the besieged Gondorians.
"Faramir! There he is, he must be!" Vilad murmured. "He is the only one who could keep them in such order!"
Even as Vilad spoke, Orcs and Southron men with red banners and fire brands in their hands swept up on horseback. The Gondorians were forced to halt the retreat and stand and fight once more. Erin was concentrating so hard on the mass of men, she almost missed the shadows swooping down from the air, but their harsh, unmistakable cries caught her attention. The Nazgul had come. She gasped, as did the others, though no one left the walls. They were unable to break away from the drama unfolding before their eyes.
Erin felt a brief thrill of excitement. It was happening exactly as the books foretold, as if history were being played out before her eyes, and she was merely a spectator privileged to witness this one moment of the past before being dragged back to the mundane present.
Faramir's orderly retreat quickly became a rout. The men were running wildly, unheeding of anything but the terrible calls above and the pounding hooves of the enemy cavalry behind.
And now, when it seemed too late, a horn call rang out over the field. The Gondorian cavalry, the Knights of Dol Amroth at the fore, sprang from the city walls and galloped toward the beleaguered army. Though Erin could not clearly hear their battle cries, she remembered them. "Amroth for Gondor! Amroth to Faramir!" And indeed, there rode Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth at the head of the charge. Yet one rider outran them all, Gandalf upon the white back of Shadowfax, horse and rider together shining with the pure light of the veiled sun.
Erin, however, was not paying attention to any of this. A single thought, or rather feeling, had caught her attention: the sensation of having her mind drained. She had felt it once before, the last time she had seen a Nazgul, when it had captured her gaze. She gripped the stone of the wall with white-knuckled fingers as the mind-numbing terror returned.
Suddenly she realized with a thrill of fear deeper than any she had felt yet what the Nazgul was doing.
It was reading her mind.
Erin knew she had to do something; she had the knowledge of the giant crossbows, and more importantly, of some factors in the Battle of Pelennor Fields that would turn the tide of battle against Sauron, factors he absolutely could not discover. If he realized what was coming, he might be able to guard against it, might be able to defeat the Gondorians. All their hard work would have been in vain.
With a supreme mental effort, Erin tried to break the connection she could feel in her mind. She tried to imagine walls around her thoughts, tried to block out the Nazgul, but her only response was a dry chuckle, like bare bones rubbing together, as it laughed at her feeble attempt. She could feel its eyes on her, even if she couldn't see it; could sense the power of the Nazgul through their connection.
In one last great effort, Erin closed her eyes, shaking her head vehemently and whispering, "No, no, no!" When she opened them again, the feeling was gone. The terror was gone.
The connection was broken.
She looked around at her friends, who were all staring at her with expressions of confusion and concern. "No what, Erin? What's going on?" asked Adrienne.
Erin forced a nervous smile onto her face. "Nothing…I'll tell you later. This is history in the making," she said, nodding toward the field.
"Erin…it's over," Sarah said, now more concerned than ever. "The men are inside the walls, and Gandalf scared the Ringwraiths away."
"Oh, well then!" Erin said with false optimism that her friends immediately saw through. They could all tell that Erin had been badly shaken by something. "Let's go back inside!" She turned to go.
"Erin!" Adrienne put a hand on Erin's shoulder, forcefully turning her back around. "What the hell happened there! We can all tell something's wrong!"
Erin took a deep breath, sobering. "I'll tell you when we get inside."
Everyone filed inside the armory in an anxious, ominous silence. The moment they were all inside, Erin began taking weapons down off the wall. "We should all carry swords around now, just in case something happens and one of us finds themselves in the middle of a battle," she said as she began distributing them.
"Erin, what happened! Please tell us!" Adrienne exclaimed, frustrated by her friend's obvious attempts to dodge their questions.
Erin took a few more seconds to hand the weapons out, then sat down and took a deep breath. "You guys remember, before we came to the armory, the first time Faramir came back from the field?" Adrienne and Sarah nodded. "You know how the Nazgul were out there, and one of them came closer to the city than the others?" They nodded again. "Well…God, this is hard to explain…I had this sensation when I looked at it…our eyes met, and I felt like my mind was being drained, almost."
Adrienne and Sarah just looked confused. "What does that mean?" Sarah asked.
Erin took another deep breath, as if she were about to set forth an idea she wasn't really sure she understood. "I think it was reading my mind."
There were gasps all around. "What do you think it found out?" Adrienne asked.
Erin shook her head. "I don't really know…I think that time the connection was broken too quickly for it to do any significant damage. Gandalf scared it away."
"But that was a couple of days ago. What happened out there?" Sarah asked, even as comprehension dawned on Adrienne's face.
"The same thing, except this time the Nazgul held the connection longer, and I had to forcefully break it." Erin replied. "It may have found out something, but I can't be sure. All I knew was that I was scared stiff and needed to get away."
"How did you break it?" Adrienne asked.
"Break what?" Gandalf's voice sounded from the doorway. Everyone jumped, startled by his sudden entrance. The wizard's face was stern and careworn as he came closer to the huddled group.
Erin took another deep breath, reluctant to explain all over again. "I think the Nazgul have been trying to read my mind," she said.
Gandalf stared for a moment, then moved to her side and roughly pulled her up to face him. "What did you tell them?" he asked sternly.
"Nothing…I don't know…I just felt it…they didn't say anything…" Erin stammered, trailing off. Gandalf's sudden harshness was unnerving.
The wizard stared deep into her eyes, finally sighing in relief. "I do not think you have done harm." He let go of her arm, and she sank back to the floor, still looking up at him in a mixture of fear and relief. "Indeed, if you won a mental battle with a Nazgul, you may have done some good. Perhaps it will weaken their confidence."
"Milord, the weapons are ready to be placed whither you will," Vilad said.
"You were able to build a second?" Gandalf asked.
"Yes, milord." Vilad answered, and Gandalf smiled. "Good work." He was silent for several moments, considering. "I believe I know where to position them," he said finally. "Who will man each weapon?"
"I shall wield one, and Kalva the other, milord," Vilad replied. "One of the girls will be with each of us."
"I'll go with Kalva," volunteered Sarah, glowing as Kalva smiled at her.
Adrienne and Erin chuckled, and Sarah glared at them. "What?"
"Nothing," Erin replied, still smiling. "I can go with Vilad, or you can Adrienne. I don't care either way. But I think you're a little quicker at it than I am."
"I'll do it then," Adrienne replied.
"It's settled then," Gandalf said. "Kalva and Sarah, I shall place yours first." The two followed the wizard back into the practice field, and helped him wheel the giant crossbow onto the street and down a level to the fourth level, where Gandalf led them to a courtyard area. They set the weapon a few feet back from the wall, near the shelter of the west wall, which was solid stone from the outcropping of rock that divided the second through sixth levels of the city down the center.
"You will not be wielding the weapon for another few hours, but I think at least one of you should stay to guard it, from curious eyes if nothing else," Gandalf said. Kalva immediately agreed to do so, and Sarah returned with Gandalf to retrieve part of the stack of arrows she had helped prepare.
When they returned, Gandalf repeated the procedure with Vilad and Adrienne, though they positioned the second giant crossbow on the other side of the divisive outcropping. Adrienne came back to the armory, but before she took the arrows to Vilad, Gandalf summoned them to him. "You should all have swords during this battle, to protect yourselves if you are faced with danger."
"Definitely," agreed Adrienne. "Man, if I run into some Orcs, they are soo dead!"
Erin shook her head in mock annoyance. "Vilad taught us the basics, and we've had some time to spar in the past couple of days. I think we can hold our own, as long as there aren't too many of them. And if there are, well, maybe we'll see Kavila or Megan in the Houses of Healing."
Gandalf nodded. "Good. I shall go down to the men; the Lord of the Nazgul is not called the Captain of Despair for naught. The men are losing hope, and the battle has only just begun." He shook his head, a disheartened gesture that surprised Erin. She remembered his unfailing optimism in the books, and thought now that perhaps Professor Tolkien had not quite got his character right.
She reached out, placing a hand upon his knee. The wizard glanced up at her. "There is still hope," she said, remembering Arwen's line from the movie. "Estel lives yet, and Frodo too." Gandalf looked at her sharply when she mentioned Aragorn, but Erin's expression showed only sympathy. "And you're one of the Maiar, an Istar. You'll know what's needed when the time comes, and you'll do it."
Gandalf nodded, smiling sadly. "So we hope." Then he rose with a sigh, and Erin rose with him. "Can I come with you, Gandalf?"
He glanced at her questioningly, then nodded. She went to the wall and retrieved a sword, taking a few moments to decipher the belt. "Just in case," she responded to Gandalf's unspoken inquiry. Then they left, and Sarah and Adrienne went to their posts.
ADRIENNE left the armory with a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, mixing nauseatingly with a tingling excitement and frustration at the interminable waiting. Despite the work she had kept busy with over the past few days, the hours had not gone by quickly. Each morning she awoke with new hope that today the battle would begin, if for no other reason than to end the anxiety and impatience.
For all her optimism and bravado in the armory, Adrienne felt strong currents of fear coursing through her veins as she wound through the streets of Minas Tirith to join Vilad. Every step brought her nearer to the danger, nearer to the sites where men would be dying before long. It was a terrifying thought.
Even though a small part of her was rejoicing over the possibility that she might be able to fight, the way she had always dreamed from the safety of her home, the majority of her feelings were negative. She knew the odds of getting wounded were not exactly low, and that the Enemy they were up against was no ill-trained troop of brigands. These were warriors, trained and bred to fight, who had been doing so for many years. And she, with a few days' worth of experience in wielding a sword, would be opposing them in battle.
She also knew some of the tactics the Enemy would be using, which did not particularly inspire optimism. In the books the Gondorians had held, despite the atrocities committed quite publicly by the Enemy. But here, in reality rather than on paper, would they still be able to last until the end?
As she moved through the streets with her load of giant arrows, Adrienne felt many looks directed her way, some curious and others less kindly. Perhaps some of them realized she was a woman; or perhaps she looked too young to have remained in the city when most of the women and children had been evacuated. Or maybe they are just wondering what the heck these arrows are going to be used for, Adrienne thought.
Finally she reached Vilad, piling the arrows slightly behind the giant crossbow, but within easy reach. She counted herself lucky not to have dropped the load at least once on the way; adjusting to carrying a heavy, unwieldy sword was difficult in the first place, and load itself had been rather awkward to bear as well.
Vilad glanced at the arrows, then at her, nodding approvingly at the sword. Adrienne went to the battlement and looked down at the fields, trying to see what the Enemy was doing.
Orcs were dragging great catapults toward the city, keeping just out of the archers' range. They dug trenches in front of the catapults, filling them with a fire that seemed to burn without fuel. Vilad joined Adrienne at the wall, chuckling at the Orcs' antics. "They will not break down the wall or the gate with those engines," he said confidently.
Adrienne could see no other purpose until the Orcs began firing the catapults. They launched great, flaming boulders high over the walls, so that they sailed into buildings throughout the lower levels of the city. Fires soon began to devour what little wood there was in the city, reaching hungrily into the sky as if grasping for the darkness. The Enemy's strategy was plain: block the streets of the city, and distract and exhaust the soldiers in putting out the fires.
Even from this high in the city, Adrienne could hear the screams and calls of the men, as some were caught in the flames and others tried to organize a fire-fighting company. Finally Adrienne realized the magnitude and reality of their situation: the battle for Minas Tirith was well and truly begun, and she was right here in the middle of it. All her romantic daydreams of the glory of war were being beaten down by the sensations her senses were bombarding her with: the screams, the smells of burning, the crashing of boulders, the flames standing stark against the darkness. She had known before what would happen, had known how and when, but she had never truly comprehended what it would be like to stand in the midst of it.
The most frustrating thing of all was that she could do nothing to stop it.
KAVILA was awakened from a fitful doze by Raliwen's frantic whispering. "Kavila! Kavila, it's started!" The moment her mind processed what Raliwen was saying, she sat up hurriedly, the spare cot she had been resting on creaking beneath her. "What?" she managed.
Raliwen stood back as Kavila rubbed her eyes and rose to her feet. "They've started bombarding the city, hurling boulders over the walls and into the lower levels, boulders set aflame. There are fires everywhere."
Kavila suddenly realized the magnitude of what Raliwen had just said. "Flaming boulders? Into the city? Oh my god I'm not going out there!"
Raliwen grabbed her arm, practically dragging her out of the room. "There are people being brought in with burns from all over the city. Do you know how to treat a burn?"
"Sort of, but…wait, Raliwen!" The woman stopped and turned around, obviously frustrated by Kavila's reluctance. "Do you really need me here? I mean, I'd really like to go find a nice dark hole somewhere…"
"Kavila, we do need you!" Raliwen exclaimed. "You've never helped in a healing house, have you?" Kavila shook her head. "You're doing better after a few hours than most of our new healers. You can handle this. We need all the help we can get here, and that means you."
"You don't understand!" Kavila said, eyes wide as she heard a crashing sound from one of the lower levels. "I really don't think I can do this! I'd be all right if I couldn't hear it, but…"
Raliwen's gaze became sympathetic. "Fear not, I shall not leave your side. You will be safe." She dropped a hand to the knife at her belt, which was meant partially for use in the Houses, and partially for defense if she was retrieving wounded from the field. "The Enemy is not within the city yet."
"Yet? Yet!" Kavila exclaimed, but Raliwen grabbed her arm again and pulled her into a room filled with injured people. Kavila's instincts took over, and she immediately set to the task of treating the many wounded. Not all were soldiers; women and even a few children had been injured in the fires, and the youngsters' cries rose above all other sounds within the room. Yet the sounds of the continuing battle were still audible within the Houses, and as she worked Kavila constantly fought down a sense of anxiety and terror that threatened to send her racing for the nearest cellar.
She and Raliwen finished with the patients in that room, moving on to the next, and the next, until they reached the main hallway. Two men rushed past them, carrying a wounded soldier between them. One was Lindir. "Raliwen, some of the men need help getting to the Houses!" he called, and she nodded.
Before Kavila could protest, Raliwen seized her arm and pulled her out the door and into the street. The sounds of battle were much, much louder out in the open, as though buildings were crumbling all around her, despite the fact that the boulders were actually falling in the lower levels where the soldiers were concentrated. Kavila let out a little scream and dropped to the ground, her arms over her head, as one particularly loud impact crashed about her ears. Raliwen looked back. "Don't worry, we won't go far!" the healer yelled, dragging Kavila to her feet and towards the gate to the fourth level, much to Kavila's horror. She dug in her heels, vehemently shaking her head. "No, no, no! I don't want to go! We could get killed!" she screamed.
Raliwen stopped and grabbed Kavila's shoulders, bringing her face inches from the girl's. "There are men down there badly injured right now, who can be saved if they are brought to the Houses! Are you going to let them die because you are too frightened to go help them!" Raliwen yelled.
Kavila's face contorted with guilt and indecision. Are you going to let them die? Clinging to Raliwen's hand like a small child, she finally forced herself to take a few steps toward the gate, then a few more, keeping up a mental dialogue the entire time. Are you going to let them die, Kavila? All because you're too scared to go down a level? I've got good reason to be scared, yes, but Raliwen said she wouldn't go far. I can go down a level. Not two, just one. I'm sixteen years old, I can do this. Erin's standing down there in the middle of it all. Kavila tried to ignore the little voice in the back of her head that remarked that Erin actually wanted to be there.
As they passed through the gate Kavila and Raliwen caught a quick glimpse of the chaos that had consumed the lower levels of the city. Fires burned everywhere, reaching high into the darkness, and even as Kavila looked a boulder hit one of the guard towers on the second level, sending it crashing to the ground. Then they were past, and Kavila realized she was hyperventilating in her terror. That image could have been straight out of some movie; Kavila tried to convince herself it was so, but the hard stone beneath her feet and the fact she was walking around made that difficult.
With every step she took, Kavila scrutinized the surrounding buildings for signs that they were about to collapse. The noise was so loud, echoing off the stone walls, that it seemed the sound alone could cause the buildings to fall. Soldiers and messengers raced past them, both toward and away from the battle, a few of the warriors recognizing Raliwen and informing her of wounded friends.
Suddenly they turned a corner and nearly ran into a soldier, carrying a badly burned comrade in his arms. "We'll take him!" Raliwen yelled. The soldier nodded and laid the wounded man on the cobbles of the street, quickly leaving to return to the battle.
Raliwen grabbed the man under his arms, and Kavila picked up his legs, careful not to touch the burns that scarred his body. The man was heavy, especially with all his armor, and Kavila changed her mental litany slightly. You can do this, you're strong, you can carry him until you get to the Healing Houses. It can't be that much farther. Just keep moving, just keep moving, she sang breathlessly in time to her steps.
They were going through a gate, Kavila registered dimly through her haze of terror and physical exertion. Even as they passed through, something landed on the cobblestone in front of them, and Raliwen let out a surprised scream. "Don't look, Kavila!" Kavila faintly heard her yell. She tried to avoid it, but as she passed it she involuntarily caught a glance, and nearly fainted in her tracks.
Instead of boulders, the enemy was casting human heads into the city.
It had been blackened, charred, but was still recognizable as a human face. Kavila felt her stomach churning, and forced herself to breath deeply. Her vision swam for a second, and she realized dimly a moment later that she was screaming. The man beneath her was crying out too, for she had established a death grip on his feet.
Then they were inside the Healing Houses. Kavila would never be quite sure how she made it there, but the moment they were inside the noise level dropped, and Kavila felt a dim sense of relief. She followed Raliwen, almost surprised to find that she was still carrying the injured man. Raliwen had to pry her fingers from the man's ankles, guiding her to a nearby corner, where Kavila sank down with wide eyes and promptly vomited. Kavila didn't raise her head for several minutes, until Raliwen forcefully lifted it, and Kavila realized from the tone of her voice that Raliwen must have been trying to get her attention for several minutes. She saw just before she raised her head that her vomit had disappeared sometime in the last few minutes. "Kavila? Kavila! I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have taken you out there, dear." Raliwen murmured, giving her a quick hug. Kavila just shook her head. She hadn't spoken for several minutes, except to scream. Raliwen must have realized that. "Kavila? Say something to me! Please say something." Kavila let out a little moan and said, "I think I'll stay in here," in an uncharacteristically soft voice. But her eyes weren't so unnaturally wide now, and Raliwen deemed she had calmed down some.
At that moment Megan rushed down the hallway, on her way to help in another room. She saw Kavila sitting against the wall and stopped, letting out a murmur of surprise. "What happened? Are you hurt?" she exclaimed.
Kavila shook her head mutely, but said nothing. Raliwen answered. "I took her outside to help some of the wounded back to the Houses. While we were out there…" Raliwen swallowed hard, and started over. "The enemy is throwing the heads of those who died on the Pelennor into the city," she finished. Megan filled in the gaps herself, immediately realizing the reason for Kavila's distress.
"I ought to return to the lower levels," Raliwen said to Megan. "Will you take care of her?" She nodded toward Kavila.
"Yeah, sure," Megan replied, and Raliwen quickly left. "Kavila?" Kavila's eyes met hers, and Megan could see the fear and despair in them. "You wanna come with me?"
Kavila shook her head vehemently, and Megan immediately realized her mistake. "We'll stay inside," she reassured her friend. "Just in this room here."
Kavila nodded, still saying nothing. Megan didn't really know what to do, except perhaps to immerse her friend in the frantic pace of the Healing Houses. She helped Kavila to her feet, and they moved together to a nearby cot, where a soldier was groaning in pain from a multitude of burns. Megan quickly stripped the cloth and armor away from his injuries, and together the two girls began to clean and bandage them.
Megan did more work than Kavila, who was still recovering from her dazed state. But despite not being fully aware of her surroundings, Kavila could easily tell that Megan knew what she was doing, though she hadn't seen Megan working with an adult healer. After they had treated several patients together, Kavila asked her about it.
"I spent a month during the summer at a well-known medical college in Guadalajara," Megan answered. "I learned a lot there, just all in Spanish. But I can still bandage wounds and stuff, even if I don't know the English names for the herbs I'm using. And then there was that book I read, too. That's helped me some."
Once they learned each other's areas of expertise, the two girls worked extremely well together. The fast pace of the work made time pass quickly and occupied all of their attention, so that both lost track of the hour. They worked tirelessly, failing to notice that most of the healers had retired and the number of wounded men coming in was steadily decreasing, before a healer finally stopped them.
Unbeknownst to them, they had earned the praise and respect of several healers who had seen them working. "You have done admirable work, girls." the man said. "There has been a lull in the battle. I know not how long it shall last, but you both ought to rest."
As if the man's suggestion had prompted it, the rush of adrenaline that had sustained them for the past several hours finally gave out, and both girls swayed on their feet. Kavila suddenly realized that the chaos outside had been replaced by an eerie silence; she didn't know how long ago it had happened, since she had been so absorbed in her work.
"Where…?" Megan managed to ask, and the man led them to a couple of spare cots in a room at the back of the Houses. The girls collapsed onto them, both asleep before their heads hit the pillows. The man smiled as he drew blankets over them, then left them to rest in peace.