Jarron got up early the next morning to start the klah. He knew the men would all have trouble recovering from the night before. When he went outside, he could hear a few of the traders groaning as well; most of them had not indulged as much as the Riverbend crew, but a few had gotten just as drunk. It took everyone some time to get up and prepare food, but the traders were already packed except for their bedrolls, and were ready to move out while Rorden was still sipping his first cup of klah.
Trader Severn came into the cot to make his farewells. "I thank you once again for the use of your raft, Ferryman, and for your hospitality," he began. "I hope you are satisfied with the bargain we struck?"
"Satisfied, yes," Rorden rumbled. "I hope you'll have more of the same on your return trip."
"And you're sure you wouldn't rather trade some of your fee back for a fire lizard egg? The beasts are a nuisance when hatched but can be trained to a lot once they've grown a bit." His face softened; Jarron guessed he was thinking about his own bronze lizard. "Anyway, I'd be willing to trade you an egg for some of that cloth and those two axes back."
"Oh!" Jarron bit his tongue to keep from saying any more. A fire lizard! A miniature dragon! Surely he would impress it; Rorden and the others wouldn't have the patience. They wouldn't care…
"Hush, Jarron," Rorden said, glaring at the eavesdropper. "Trader, I wouldn't take one of those things if you gave me a mark along with it. You said yourself they're a nuisance, and I've no patience for that." He noticed Jarron's crestfallen look but only said gruffly, "You're welcome to our hospitality anytime you're through here. We do welcome news from other Holds."
"Indeed, as do the other Holds."
The two men shook hands and strode outside. Jarron let out a heavy sigh. It had been too much to hope for anyway. Suddenly there was pandemonium outside. He ran out to see what was wrong, and gasped in horror. Chandis, who had been helping hold one of the draybeasts while its harness was being adjusted, was half under the wheel. Jarron could see sharp bone sticking out of his leg. As he stood frozen, afraid to get closer and get in the way, the draybeast whose bellowing had caught his attention stepped sideways. One hoof landed hard in Chandis' midsection; the men who were trying to pull him away shouted at the beast, which lurched back to its original position. The wagon wheel rolled back off of Chandis' leg.
Jarron ran inside to get Riverbend's medical kit. None of them had much experience; the usual injuries were no more than bruises or knocks on the head. His hands were shaking as he ran back outside, where the wagon wheels had been blocked to prevent them rolling again. The draybeasts had been unhitched and tethered to another wagon, and Chandis was just lying there twitching. His screams had quieted down to loud moans of such agony that Jarron could hardly stand it. Rorden, kneeling by his friend, looked up. He appeared to be in pain as well.
"Quick, Jarron, the fellis!" He quickly handed over the flask of fellis mixed with wine. They wouldn't be able to do much for Chandis while he was awake.
By noon, the traders had not yet left. Two of their women who knew something of healing had been working over Chandis since midmorning. He had been carried to his bed in the cot. They had tried to set the broken leg, but they were worried about the exposed bone, and they had no idea what injuries had been inflicted by the draybeast's hoof. At least two ribs were broken, and there was much bruising in his lower midsection. While fellis and numbweed would do for now, it was not enough. The combined medical supplies of the cothold and the wagon train were inadequate for such severe injuries. Still in shock but eager to be useful, Jarron climbed up onto the roof and spread out the emergency banner. The next sweeprider would surely see it; the red and white were unmistakable. Unlike the green and orange of a casual hail, the emergency banner meant that a healer was needed.
Rorden, who was usually so gruff, was at his wits' end. He had no skills that could help his friend, once he had carried him inside. He admitted to himself that Jarron was being a good help; he was even able to get Chandis to drink his doses of fellis along with the vegetable broth that had been simmering when the accident occurred. If Chandis would only be all right… maybe the boy could handle a fire lizard after all. If Chandis was all right, he'd give the traders the axes and two bolts of cloth.
Gaffer and Forsyth, while worried about their companion, also wondered what would be done about a replacement. They couldn't handle the raft with less than four men, and Jarron certainly didn't qualify.
The traders left the next morning, unable to extend their stay indefinitely. It was not until late that afternoon that Jarron, picking herbs to help with Chandis' fever, saw the brown dragon flying overhead. He shouted, jumping up and down and waving his arms, pointing toward the cot. The dragon circled once in acknowledgement of the signal, and disappeared. Moments later a bigger, bronze dragon circled to land in front of the cot. Jarron ran to meet it, mindful not to drop the precious herbs. The others, who had been alerted by Jarron's shouting, also rushed outside to urge the dismounting rider and his two passengers inside. In awe at the size of the dragon, much larger than the blue he had ridden from Ruatha, Jarron edged along the wall. As he turned the corner to go inside, he saw the dragon's faceted eyes, whirling blue. He stared back, and then the spell was broken as he suddenly remembered what he was holding and ran inside.
The healers, a young man and an older man, were examining Chandis. Too out of breath to speak, Jarron held out the herbs and was rewarded with a surprised smile from the younger healer. The older man glanced at the herbs approvingly and continued his examination. Wanting to stay out of their way and still hear what Chandis' injuries were, Jarron retreated to the nearest corner.
"Well, the leg will be all right, although that bone worries me. I've washed it out with redwort, so there shouldn't be anymore infection, but since it snapped through like that it'll take quite a while to knit, and may not knit properly.
"He has two broken ribs and three cracked ones. I'm most worried about this bruising in his midsection – "
"That's where the draybeast stepped on him," Rorden interrupted. The young healer winced in sympathy. The older one continued.
"Yes, there is definitely damage to his internal organs, but since there is no way to see inside and tell which ones, there is not much I can do to treat them. I do have a powder which can ease the pain, if he will take it. Has he been unconscious this whole time?"
"I – we've been giving him fellis," Jarron spoke up timidly. The others turned to look at him. "We didn't know what else to do. He got a fever…" he pointed to the herbs he had laid on the table.
"The boy's been doing the most for him, Master Fallon," Rorden put in. "He's been getting him to drink that broth, as well as the fellis wine. I'm no healer."
Master Fallon turned a sharp eye on Jarron, who held his breath, hoping he had done nothing wrong."Well," he went on, "I've bandaged the leg and wrapped the ribs, but we'll just have to wait to see how the other injuries will fare. I must return to the Healer Hall and consult MasterHealer Oldive. Sorden will stay here while I am gone."
Jarron watched Sorden as the young healer continued to care for Chandis. He had dissolved the powdered numbweed in a cup of wine, which he slowly poured into Chandis' mouth; still feverish, the man gulped thirstily. "I've given him something for the fever as well," Sorden explained. "The herbs work better dried and steeped; I'll show you how to hang yours to dry." Jarron nodded and managed a smile; he was awed at how much the young man knew. He had been so scared when Chandis was hurt and he hadn't known what to do. Not even the traders had known to do more than apply fellis and numbweed. He was proud of himself for remembering about the fever herbs, but he hadn't been sure of the right way to prepare them. He was glad someone who knew what they were doing had come to help.
Chandis groaned, and Jarron looked anxiously at the healer. He couldn't see anything wrong – at least, nothing worse. Sorden caught his look and smiled reassuringly. "It's just the fever. He's not really awake, but the pain is making it hard to sleep. The powder will help. He'll heal best while he's sleeping." True to his word, Chandis soon settled into a deeper sleep. Without realizing it, Jarron drifted off as well.