“Only rest. The selder, only rest,” the borman insisted. “Heal Abar leg.”
“I will do what I can. Soon. What of this is artefacts?” Bubs asked. His hands moved around the belts, pressing the selder’s shoulders and tracing gently along the sternum. “Shoulder’s out. Collar’s bruised. Looks like weight damage from a bad carry.”
The borman replied slower now. “Maybe.”
“What do you mean, maybe?”
“The artefacts of he, I know not.”
“Yu, get Deltington.”
“I stay,” said the borman.
Bubs bent lower, sniffing along the collarbone. His nose wrinkled. “Yu, get Deltington.”
“No, I stay,” the borman said it again. “You heal leg.”
Bubs pried one of the selder’s eyes open, then his mouth. “No clouding. No rot. Not fevered. Breathing’s wrong but not choking. Could be alchemical. Could be exhaustion. Yu, what are you waiting for?”
“I stay,” the borman repeated, unyielding.
As Bubs let go, the selder’s eyelids twitched. Unease ran across his face, but his eyes did not open. He only lay there, still and slack, as if lost in some heavy sleep.
It was the human who made noises. The shaman had sat down on the stool beside her and now lifted her upper body and head with one arm. She held her close, leaning her against her own body, while she tipped liquid from the first of two flasks she had brought from the workbench. Slowly, cautiously, she let it trickle between the human’s lips, giving her time to swallow in small sips. Though she twisted, coughed, and panted raggedly, the human remained unconscious. Her body’s movements were sluggish, restricted by the thick jacket and the towels propping her in place —
Something struck Yu on the forehead.
He screamed and swung at it with a full two second delay.
A bandage roll bounced to the floor.
It took Yu another pair of seconds to understand what had happened. That he was still standing here. That he was still a person in the room, not just some silent observer. That he was still expected to act. That Bubs had thrown that thing, because he wanted something from him.
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