The Father of Withering

Chapter Eleven: Aftermath

As the cheers of victory continued, Varsus gave orders. The man really did seem like the epitome of the composed and brave knight. With his blonde hair and tall, lean figure, he looked heroic. It was ironic since Reginald had done far better on the battlefield. He and Ham had slain many satyrs and undead, while Varsus had largely focused on command. Still, he looked thoughtfully at Relma when he thought she didn't see him. Relma felt Varsus was judging her as surely as he was judging him.

He was the son of Sir Arthur Gabriel, one of the greatest Paladins of his era. But he didn't seem at all like a Paladin. He didn't have the kind of light you'd expect. But then William hadn't had that light either, not in the same way. Maybe Relma had the wrong expectations for them. Either way, people cheered Varsus on where he walked. Aunt Pan was similarly looking at her, and Relma felt awkward here.

"...I wasn't aware that Zeya owed Elranor any favors," said Aunt Pan suddenly. "It must have been some recent event. I wonder what it was?" Relma felt that whatever it was, it had nothing to do with her.

"It is of no present relevance," said Varsus, who seemed to agree. "Men, see to the wounded and get the dead off the walls. I want those plants cleared off now." That sounded like something William would say. But Varsus seemed to mean it more, somehow.

"Relma, go among the men and heal anyone injured or hurt," said Aunt Pan.

Relma nodded and moved off. She spent what seemed like hours healing people and accepting pledges of gratitude. Several people clapped her on the back as she walked, and she nearly stumbled. Even so, she managed to heal many of the less wounded people. She left the rest for the more experienced healers. But she heard men whispering that she had healed thousands,

Relma felt more like the face of a legend than a person in her own right.

Then the gates opened, and Frederick came through on wolfback. With him were all the other parts of the army. Relma moved down and saw Estela going to meet Frederick. "Lady Estela, I see your steel is as sharp as always," said Frederick, dismounting.

"Sir Frederick, I'm flattered you think so," said Estela, bowing.

"Where is Lord Anias?" asked Frederick. "Should he not be here?"

"Lord Anias is dead, I'm afraid," said Estela. "We'll explain in private. For now-"

But at that moment, the woman who'd assigned Relma to the walls grabbed her by the shoulder.

"Good, you're here. We've got dozens of wounded coming in from the advance force. I'll need you to tend to the less serious cases." And she moved off before glancing at Relma. "Come quickly, girl! We've got no time!"

Relma blinked. "Yes, ma'am."

The wounded from the battle were far worse than those on the walls. Some of them were covered in thousands of tiny bites. Their skin had gone an unnatural purplish color, and their breath was short. "What happened to them?" asked Relma.

"These ones were attacked by the spiders," said the woman. "They've got many smaller wounds, and the venom is within them. They aren't for you." She led her out to a room filled with people suffering from ordinary wounds that weren't as bad. "These are yours."