As he looked around the campsite, Bas realized that that would take quite awhile. Everyone seemed to have an arrow sticking out somewhere. Looking at Fala's arm after pulling the shield away, he realized that it was minor compared to other injuries. Ziera's appeared the worst. Patting Fala's good arm, he promised to be back soon to help her.

  "Bas? What do we do?," Palose asked hesitantly. A female private, Layres, he thought and a male, the other sentry Aleyn, stood with him. "Mirez and the Lieutenant are dead. Sergeant Bylok is unconscious. He took an arrow in the shoulder and Aleyn and I tried to pull it free but couldn't without hurting him. Ziera's down with a gut shot. With Fala hurt, I guess you're left in charge. We'll all follow you. If the lieutenant had just listened, we'd probably all be alive right now!," he finished bitterly. The soldiers faces didn't betray insult from his words. Apparently, they felt the same.

  "Let's not accuse the dead, Palose," sighed Bas as he laid a hand on the man's shoulder. "Ziera sounds the worst. I'll start there. Is there anyone else still alive?"

  "Jarno," Private Aleyn informed him. The tall blonde-haired soldier seemed solid enough despite the stress.

  "Seylea, too," the red haired woman added without looking at the man. "She took a hit to the leg, but is otherwise all right for the moment. Jarno, has had medical training and is helping her."

  "Good. Palose, you're going to help me with Ziera. You two go to Fala. If she can give you enough help to get that arrow out of her good, otherwise Layres you'll head up the south hill. I left two nomads alive there. Don't kill them, but I don't want anyone trying to pick us off from there either. Aleyn, will go help Jarno, if Fala can't be helped yet."

  The four broke up to follow his orders. Palose and he found Ziera sweating where she had been propped up on some bedding on her own sleeping bag. Her eyes were still focused, but Bas could see that she was in real pain. The arrow had gone in high on the left side.

  "Hey, cadet, who put you in charge?," the woman said trying to laugh, but ended up coughing and crying tears from her eyes.

  "You did," he replied abruptly as he touched the area near the wound. There wasn't as much blood as he might have thought, but she still didn't look good, though he doubted that anyone looked particularly healthy with a piece of wood protruding through them. "You and all my superiors that can't learn to duck anyway. We mizards get a lot of notice when we save everyone's butts."

  "Those three we killed at the end?," she finished with a groan as he tried to turn her more onto her side.

  "What was left of a dozen. A couple more went the other way. I doubt that they'll be back.

  "I'm going to have to turn you on your side, Ziera, to get that arrow," he added looking into her pain filled eyes. The woman wasn't that much older than himself, he suddenly realized. "How old are you, falcon?"

  "Old enough to know better. What does my age have to do with anything?," she grunted as he finished turning her onto her side. The head nearly stuck through the back of her shirt. The cloth had held enough that only the smallest tip stuck itself through a small hole there.

  "Just trying to figure out if you're young enough to save," the mage said trying to smile even as he assessed the situation.

  "Twenty three. Do I qualify so you can take that thing out of me? I know that I make it look good, but it's beginning to really hurt."

  "It's not going to get any better

  unfortunately. At least not for a little bit. How attached are you to that shirt you're wearing? I think that I'm going to need to tear it to get the arrow out of you."

  The woman tried to laugh, "It's no good anymore. Got a hole in it."

  Smiling, Bas nodded. "What do you know? I must have missed that." He tried to lift the back of her shirt away from the arrow tip, only to hear the woman hiss through clenched teeth. "No easy way to do this, I guess. Palose, hold her steady for me. Try to watch what I'm doing. You might have to do this someday soon."

  The other mage gulped and did as he was told.

  "Knife!," he ordered using his fire sword spell in a much shorter version. It wasn't a spell anyone had thought to try before and brought Ziera's eyes back to him questioningly. "Necessity, falcon, breeds invention. Try to lie still now."

  He brought the fire knife to the edge of her shirt and cut upwards near the arrow's tip. The flame slid through the cloth like a hot knife through butter. With the new cut, Bas was able to lift the garment away from skin and arrow both. It was a good thing that he hadn't waited, the blood was already starting to dry and stick. The hiss from the woman made him cringe at her pain. There would be more pain, but he had nothing to give her, unless...

  Trying to order a new magic, he touched her forehead, "Sleep!" The woman's eyes widened a moment and closed in a deep sleep.

  Palose looked at him amazed. "Another one?," he asked. "What next a flying horse to bring us back to Windmeer safe and sound?"

  Ignoring him, Bas brought his fire knife over to the arrowhead again. This time, he carefully cut the head free leaving a clean shaft sticking only a half inch out of her back. "Hold her still, Palose," he cautioned, "I don't know if that spell will keep her out when I pull the shaft."

  The other man looked sick, but grabbed both arms even as Sebastian straddled her legs to try and keep them still in the next seconds. "I suppose the quicker the better, huh?"

  "You're the one in charge remember? Do it however you want. Just be careful, huh?"

  "That's all I keep trying to do, but I've never done this before. It's not like Yara warned me. She only talked about sword wounds. All right, hold tight. Here we go!" Grabbing the shaft with one hand and placing the other against the skin surrounding it, Bas eased the shaft out of the woman's body quickly and as smoothly as he could.

  Blood spurted through his fingers

  immediately. "Knife," he ordered again quickly and cauterized each wound. Letting the flame die again, Bas settled his breathing and tried a spell that Yara had only talked about. "Heal," he charged his magic. Bas felt the power enter the other's body. He knew every facet of her being, every pain, every breath. He felt the wounds that he had closed. They weren't perfect. He felt an injury that still bled inside. With mental fingers, he pulled a vein back together and moved the flesh and blood back where it belonged or at least where Ziera's body told him it wanted the flows.

  As he continued, he spoke aloud with the back of his mind, "Get me some food, Palose." The other mage looked up in surprise. The voice seemed to reach the man from a distance. In a sense, he was deep within the flesh of the woman and nowhere near his own body.

  Palose returned and waited. Finally, Bas was done. His hand reached for the canteen first and swallowed several gulps of water. He then stuffed the proffered jerky and fruit into his mouth ravenously. Still chewing, Bas lifted the front of the woman's shirt to the breast. The wound had come only an inch shy of destroying the soft mound of flesh above. The wound looked clean. It even seemed more healed than it should be. Like maybe a week's healing had been done in minutes.

  A low whistle of appreciation from Palose confirmed his thoughts.

  "Nice job, Bas," the mage complimented him.

  "Thanks. Bring the food along, please. We're going to check on the sergeant’s progress. He noticed the men struggling to keep the man still as Jarno tried to help the wounded man.

  He found the men fighting a man sweating and confused. Bylok looked nearly feral with the pain. Bas wondered if the other men had been bit yet. Jorno had a black eye and Aleyn a bloody lip. Coming around behind the struggle, Bas used his new spell, "Sleep." The sergeant went limp almost instantly.

  "Thank the gods," Jorno breathed a sigh of relief.

  "Nah, thank the mizard," Aleyn chuckled appreciatively. "Wish you could have done that sooner, sir."

  Bas raised an eyebrow at the named rank. "I had my hands full, private," the mage replied like a true leader to a subordinate. "Let's see. No luck getting the shaft out, Jorno?"

  "No, sir. As soon as I tried to move it, he came awake and fighting."

  "Where's the head?"

  "Stuck inside, sir. I wanted to push it through and break it off, but there's bone in the way."

  He nodded. "Heal," Bas stated as he laid a hand on the man's shoulder. The idea wasn't to heal just yet, but to look around. Trying an idea as he felt the body with his mind, Bas took hold of the shaft and willed the flesh to pull away as the head retreated towards the opening the shaft still claimed. The man's body wanted the foreign object out so badly, that the mage found total cooperation for the maneuver and soon had the entire shaft out head and all.

  Still in the spell, he let the skin knit. "Can you cauterize the wound, Palose?"

  "I can try, Bas. Knife!" the mage copied his spell and touched the wound.

  The searing pain recoiled upon Bas's mind as he was still within the body. "Ow!," he said reeling, but not letting the spell go. He finished up quickly before pulling out. Rubbing his head, Bas stated, "Got to remember not to do it that way again. I was trying to avoid losing the spell and his blood, but, man, the pain is incredible!"

  Reaching for the water again, Bas drank and ate a little more. "Who do we have left?"

  "We got the arrows out of Fala and Seylea, but you may want to use your magic to make sure, sir," Aleyn replied.

  "Layres took the hill then?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Aleyn, go check on her. Bring in the nomads up there if you can. Jorno check the east hill for me. Make sure there's no one near, and be careful up there."

  A pair of salutes sent both men to their horses. They quickly mounted and rode in the directions he had wanted. "Come, Palose, we have more women to tend."

  "Better than ornery sergeants," the mage chuckled.

  "Prettier at least, though inside they seem much the same. Did you watch me using the spell?"

  "Yes, I think that I might be able to do it. It seemed easier than some of the other spells."

  "Good, you're going to help me this time."

  Looking pale, Palose nodded resignedly. Chapter 22-Limping Home

  Morning found the camp looking ragged and bloody. Ziera awoke looking tired. The blood loss would leave her weak for awhile, Bas thought. Sergeant Bylok woke ornery as always, but too tired to relieve the mizard of command. Again, the man would be weakened for a couple of days at least. As for the rest, Fala had her arm in a sling and Private Seylea needed crutches if she were to limp around. Her friend Layres supplied a pair of branches for crutches, which Bas spied and refined using his fire sword. With cloth wrapped at the top, the woman could get around reasonably comfortably on one good leg.

  Bas and Palose were tired, but, with food in their stomachs, both were still well enough to travel early. First, the mizard gathered the three ranking people of their band into a meeting. They still had to decide where to go from there and how. They had six dead, four wounded and a pair of wounded nomads as well.

  "So now what?," he asked as two of the three potential leaders lay propped up in bedding.

  The sergeant cleared his throat, "You need a burial detail. Bury our dead, then rig up a couple pallets for me and the falcon here. We can't ride yet. Then we gather up what we can and go home."

  "I agree," Ziera seconded.

  "But what about our scouting mission?," Fala asked half-heartedly. "We were sent to scout the enemy's position. I don't think that we've really fulfilled our objectives."

  The sergeant glared at the woman. "You've lost your apprentice and more than half your guards, wizard. Where do you draw the line and say enough is enough? You've got what you're going to get. I say we cut our losses and go home."

  "But...," the woman started and shook her head as tears started to stream from her eyes. Fala tried not to cry at the remembrance of all the dead not the least of which was her own apprentice. Had she failed Justin? Surely, he had been her

  responsibility and she had failed to protect him.

  Bas lay a hand on her shoulder to comfort the woman and made sure not to look at the sergeant. He agreed with the man. Their trip was over. They needed to get the wounded home to recover from their injuries even with the magical aide. "That leaves the question of our wounded nomads."

  "Kill `em," the sergeant spat on the ground.

  Ziera looked at the man in understanding, but made no comment.

  "Their deaths accomplish nothing, sergeant," Bas replied coolly. "If no one has a better suggestion, I guess I'll just leave them with a day's rations and figure that their people will find them soon enough. The nomads won't leave their dead to rot on the hills, will they?"

  Ziera answered with a shake of her head. "They're very superstitious. They'll probably be here sooner or later. We'd better be gone by then, I think, or we'll have more dead. You can't protect us all with only five healthy people."

  "We could probably take them, but you're right," Bas acquiesced. "Right then. You can't ride, so we'll make transport for you. I guess we'll just have to bury our dead here. They'd smell by the time we got back or be eaten by predators."

  He moved off to give the orders. No one looked enthusiastic about burial detail, but, after setting Layres and Seylea to constructing a transport consisting of a pair of poles and stout canvas, Bas led the men in the digging of two large graves. There wasn't enough time to do all six individually, so three to a grave would have to do.

  Palose and the two privates worked on one hole, when Bas decided to experiment with using his magic. Using a variation on the earth strike that he had learned from Magnus, Bas focused on moving the dirt rather than just sending a wave of power through it. "Earth move!," he ordered. The others paused in their efforts to watch the mizard at work.

  The wave moved slower than the normal strike. He needed the dirt for later so it paid to keep it near rather than scattering it on the wind. After the first wave went about eight feet away, Bas had already created a six inch deep hole four feet across. "Earth move," he spelled the earth in front of him again. The second wave brought him down a foot more. A third wave tore through stone and dirt alike. At nearly two feet deep, Bas nodded.

  "Palose, try the spell on yours," he said wiping sweat from his forehead. The need for such precision concentration was tiring, especially after a night like the last.

  Palose tried and succeeded nearly as well though it took him more than a half dozen tries to get as deep. Bas assisted the privates in carrying the bodies that were still clothed, though boots and other valuables had already been stripped from them. If he had believed that the nomads would leave them alone, he would have left the dead along with all their belongings.

  He used his magic to push the dirt back over the bodies making for a smooth clean grave. Palose tended his own in nearly as short a time. They were done so quickly, that the women hadn't even gotten to the second stretcher. Bas had Aleyn and Jorno give them a hand while Palose and he ate once again. He was beginning to understand that anything other than normal battle magic consumed enormous amounts of energy.

  It was still well before mid-morning, when the battered troop made their way from the battle site. Bas rode with Fala near the front and talked. The others looked alert or tended to the wounded and their rides.

  "While we're traveling, can you scout around for more enemy movements?," Sebastian asked early into the ride.

  The woman looked tired, but he guessed that they all did after the shortened sleep and consequent battle. "I suppose, though I have to wonder why. My efforts didn't foretell the ambush after all," she replied bitterly.

  "It wasn't your fault," Bas said soothingly. "You told the lieutenant that there was a tribe nearby. He chose to take their presence lightly. It's not even the lieutenant's fault. When's the last time any squad was attacked by nomads?"

  "Two years ago."

  He nodded. "And before that?'

  The woman's face scrunched up trying to recall. "I don't remember," she confessed.

  "So why would anyone think that this time would be different? Now, will you scout ahead for me? Please?"

  The woman cracked a smile. "Since you asked so nicely, fearless leader, yes."

  "Do I seem fearless?," he asked with raised eyebrow.

  Chuckling, the woman nodded, "The way you rode off into the night all alone to face the nomads, like you did? That seems pretty fearless to me. You keep it up and everyone's going to think that you want to be a hero.

  "But seriously, why do you think that you're in charge now? I'm a full wizard. Ziera and Sergeant Bylok still live and many leaders have led from such positions when needed. Why do you think that we've left you in command?"

  He shrugged. "I hadn't really thought about it. When Palose came to me with the privates and everyone began calling me, sir, I was surprised, but I guess that I'm getting used to it. I can handle it, if it is only for a few days until we get back or someone wants the position back."

  With more laughter, the wizard replied, "I'll make sure that you get full rank as soon as possible. With all of our words of commendation, you might even get a medal."

  Sebastian blushed. I didn't do that much."

  "And so modest," the wizard reached over and kissed his cheek on impulse. They both looked at each other in surprise and blushed. Clearing her throat, Fala added, "I'll check ahead now."

  "Thanks," he replied rubbing his neck selfconsciously.

  Night came and the group settled down for a rest gratefully. They had made decent time, but the stretchers were going to continue to slow them until their passengers could ride once more. He set sentries out further than the night before even though Fala made a new sweep just before settling down to sleep.

  Bas slept as soon as his head hit the rolled up bag being used for a pillow. It was harder than he liked normally, but the mage was so tired that he could barely keep his eyes open. The bag felt like a cloud to his weary head.

  He was awoken in the middle of the night for his shift at sentry. No one that was healthy was exempt from duty and that went for him as well. They all needed to pull their own weight from now on if they were going to stay safe.

 

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