Sons of Ironstorm - Book 4: Griffon's Stand

The Shadow's Touch

A veteran of the Four Seas War against the Septans, the accomplished Mamran healer nevertheless had never seen magic used before to infect wounds and blacken flesh. Yet, as she grimaced at the seeping puss that oozed from the angry gash on the Lady Shalindria's thigh every time the dark skinned Hydrayan Sylvasin moved in her discomfort, she knew the darkest magic was fouling this particular wound. Dark magic that, unfortunately, was quite beyond her considerable skill to heal.

Eyes bright with her pain, Shalindria nevertheless made no sound to voice her discomfort, the wound's bite gnawing deep into the flesh of her leg until the bone itself ached with its vile acid. She knew if it wasn't addressed soon, she risked dying if the leg wasn't removed. And, as she looked up to see several human healers preparing surgical tools, including a saw, she knew they knew it as well.

"You've sent for my husband?" the sultry and exotic Sylvasin carefully asked in heavily accented Taren yet again to the mistress healer, who hovered over her leg with a clean cloth, doing her best to keep the wound free of fouled fluid.

The mistress healer, a stocky, plain faced woman, her dark hair shot with grey, bobbed a quick nod. 

"He should be here shortly, my lady " she added reassuringly, her words oddly rounded in Shalindria's ears, as they were touched by a mamran locution.

"He is here already, mistress healer," Shawn corrected as he and Shiana stepped beneath the pavilion's outer edge in the messenger's shadow and directly to where they were tending Shalindria.

<<My lord.>> Shalindria couldn't help but sag in relief as her husband quickly strode to her bedside, the Star already glowing with gathering power behind him. Her hand, cold and clammy with shock, reached out to take his as soon as he was beside her.

<<Forgive me for taking you away from the defence of the walls.>>

<<Nonsense,>> Shawn retorted, smiling down at her even as he gestured for the mistress healer to draw back her cloth so he could take a better look at the wound, a vicious gash slicing across Shalindria's inner thigh. Shiana, swinging around to stand behind Shalindria, directly across from her brother, couldn't help the gasp of dismay at what was revealed.

Glancing up in quick warning at his sister, his look telling her to keep calm in order to keep Shalindria calm, Shawn then returned his gaze back to the dark skinned Hydrayan.

<<I beg your forgiveness for allowing you to take such a wound at the hands of dark soldiers and not healing you myself!>>

Shalindria's hand squeezed Shawn's tightly in reply.

<<There is nothing to forgive, my lord,>> she began, smiling through the pain to look into his intent face. <<I should've moved ... uhhhhh!>> 

Feeling Shalindria's hand convulsively squeeze his own in response to the flash of pain that rippled through her, Shawn grimly bent closer to the wound, ignoring the putrid smell of rot that rose from it.

<<Stay with me, my Lady >> he gently urged as the exotic young woman wavered on the edge of consciousness with the pain gnawing now at her very mind. <<Stay with me, Shalindria. I'll have this foulness out of your shortly!>> And then he was looking with the Second Sight deep into her leg, past the wound to where the dark spell that had been introduced by a tjor'riin's dagger into the young woman's flesh.

There! As insidious as a parasite, a tendril of filth worked its way through rapidly dying muscle to the bone, seeking to foul as much of the leg as it could. Without hesitation Shawn summoned the runes. And the mistress healer took a startled step back when a tendril of blue-white light darted out from Shawn's free hand to lance deep into the angry and blackened gash, crackling with actinic discharge.