You dismount and head back through the palisade to see the rider sitting on his horse in the main thoroughfare of Tar-Domos. As you draw closer, you recognize the rider as Javor, one of the warriors who accompanied your father to battle. He sits hunched over his reins, looking exhausted.
You greet him, and he raises a hand in response before wincing and doubling up in pain. His hand reaches beneath the woolen traveling cloak he wears, then withdraws, the fingers red with blood. He begins to dismount, and you run forward to help as he almost falls from the saddle.
"You're hurt," you say, lowering him to the ground. You look up at Kral, who stands nearby. "Quickly," you tell him, "send for help."
"It's too late," says Javor, raising a hand and clutching it around your arm. There is a moment's silence between you before the obvious question springs to your lips.