"Much appreciated."
"That should suffice. Be gentle with that side for a while."
Healers always make such vague statements. What did he mean exactly?
Should I avoid further injuries there? Sensible idea.
I'd comply.
"Alright," I acknowledged. "Thanks."
He grunted and moved on. The screams had ceased, but faint moans were still audible over the rain's patter on shields, swords, and other objects. Whoever had assisted with my jerkin now helped me to my feet, causing a twinge of pain in my side, but it was bearable. I never cared for pain. It was Aeldor. I asked, "Is anyone else injured?" though it was an obvious question. He understood my meaning.
"Speransky scraped his left hand, nothing more."
"Can't our mages halt this accursed rain?"
"I believe our mages are more fatigued than anyone else here."
"Oh. I see. What's next?"
