There was a low curse above her as Trenton took a deep breath. Shea didn’t let any of the horror and pity she felt show on her face.
“Thank you, Mist. You did a good job.” Shea gave the little girl a smile and turned her eyes to Chirron whose face had settled into a grim mask. Wrath was in his eyes as he helped the little girl lower her shirt.
“Stay here with Trenton while I speak with the healer.” Shea jerked her head to indicate he follow her. She stood, her body protesting the movement, and led the way to the other side of the tent, far enough that Mist wouldn’t overhear their conversation.
Shea waited as Chirron joined her. He took several deep breaths, visibly trying to calm himself, before speaking, “Her injuries from the attack by the eagle are minor, all things considered. I will need to keep an eye on her for the next little while to make sure there is no internal bleeding and create a poultice to address some of the bruising.”
Shea watched him carefully. Despite his measured words, she got the sense he was seconds away from snapping. She liked him better for the obvious anger he felt over the apparent abuse the girl had suffered.
“And the rest?”
He took another deep breath and busied himself adjusting the bracelet on his wrist. Shea let him, knowing he needed time to compose himself.
“There are signs of long-term abuse. I can’t be sure, but I believe at least one of her arms has been broken in the past. There is also scar tissue from being burned.”
It was Shea’s turn to seek her composure, even as her blood sung for vengeance against whoever had hurt that sweet child. She had never sought violence, but she thought she might finally understand Fallon a little better. It took her considerable discipline not to tear out of this tent to hunt down the perpetrators. The only thing keeping her in place was the knowledge that it would be difficult to find those responsible.
That’s not to say that if she ever did uncover who hurt Mist, she wouldn’t relish leading them into a spinner nest or a pack of revenants. She might even get creative and track down some of the more vicious beasts, the ones that would make the person suffer before eating them.
“I thought the Trateri protected their young,” Shea said, unable to bite back the words.
Chirron’s nostrils flared. “They do, but we have our bad seeds, just as everybody else. Those that did this will be found and dealt with. The Warlord will make sure of it.”
Fallon moved into view, his eyes coming to rest on Shea and Chirron. He had a streak of blood on one cheek and a cut on his arm. He looked like he’d been in a battle, his body tense, and his posture poised for an attack at any time. His expression darkened at the sight of Shea, still bloody, her wounds untreated.
“I had not realized I had given you permission to make promises on my behalf,” Fallon said, his tone silky.
Chirron watched him with caution, like one would a large mountain lion that you were pretty sure saw you as its next meal.
“May I ask why my Telroi is standing with her wounds untreated and blood covering her while you make such claims?” he asked, his voice rising with every word.
“Perhaps because there was someone here who needed help first,” Shea told him, shooting a meaningful look in Mist’s direction. The girl cowered in her seat, her chest heaving up and down as she looked at Fallon like he was a wolf about to pounce on her. “Or would you like to tell me that her needs are less important than mine?”
Shea’s expression told him there was only one right answer to that question.
His jaw flexed, and he lowered his chin to send her a look that could have shorn boulders in half. Chirron and Trenton looked like they were trying to make themselves invisible during the silent showdown between Shea and Fallon.
“My mistake. Of course, the child should receive attention first. They are our future.” Fallon conceded his loss with a graceful incline of his head. “Now that she has been helped, perhaps Chirron can get on with tending to your injuries while you update me on who I am supposed to find and kill.”
Shea’s shoulders rose and fell as she took a deep breath. That was probably the best apology she was going to get. The implacable look on Fallon’s face told her he wasn’t budging from his spot until she let Chirron tend to her.
“They’re superficial wounds,” she told Fallon.
“Then this should go quickly so Chirron can tend to the more gravely injured among my people.”
Or he could drop this and allow Chirron to get to more important duties now. That wasn’t going to happen though.
Shea’s sigh was gusty as she held the cloth she’d used to blot away some of the blood out to Chirron. He took it and pointed her to a seat.
She sat and held still as he pressed against the skin around the cut on her forehead. A cool, almost numbing sensation spread from the places where he touched. It wasn’t enough to dim all the pain, however. Fallon hovered over them looking like he wanted to shed Chirron’s blood every time Shea winced.
She needed something to distract her from Chirron’s probing fingers or else she feared he wouldn’t live through tending to her wounds.
“How are your men?” she asked.
“Fine. There were a few casualties, but we managed to bring down several of the eagles.”
Several. She still found that strange. It was damn near impossible for that many to gather.
“We were lucky they attacked here, where their movement was hampered. On the plains or in the mountains we would have faced much greater losses.”
That was another thing. Why had they attacked here? This wasn’t their natural hunting grounds. She’d listened to many stories told by the Airabel villagers, and they had almost no references to the golden eagles that plagued much of the Highlands and Lowlands.
“How did the Airabel villagers fare?” Shea asked.
“They suffered some losses. Many of their warriors fought honorably from above to keep the eagles from carrying off their victims. Their actions have won them much favor from my generals. Eckbert has volunteered his healers to help assist the wounded,” Fallon said.
“I need to talk with Eckbert.” Shea pushed Chirron’s hands away. Something about this didn’t sit right with her.
“I’m not done,” Chirron snapped, slapping a hand onto her shoulder and pushing her back down. “You’ll go nowhere until I’ve cleaned and put stiches in this cut.”
Shea glared up at Chirron. She had places to be and people to question. There were more important things to take care of than treating her superficial injuries. Chirron raised one eyebrow, his expression saying he wasn’t impressed with her glare. He gave Fallon a pointed look.
Fallon stood watching them, with his arms folded across his chest and a frown on his face. He looked seconds away from throwing things.
Shea saw his point. “At least send someone for Eckbert.”
Fallon gestured and one of the men in the room with them left. Shea presumed on the errand of summoning the village elder.
“Now that that’s taken care of, perhaps you can hold still.” Chirron didn’t wait for her agreement, pressing a cloth he’d soaked with a liquid to the cuts on Shea’s forehead. She hissed as it stung.
“The pain will do you good,” Chirron said, bending closer to get a better look at what he was working with. “The liquid will keep you from getting an infection and reduce signs of scarring.”