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Piper closed his eyes and turned his cheek until his lips touched Galen’s fingers. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Galen turned to go and made it as far as the front door before it slammed open.

Twenty-Six

Three burly men wearing full battle armor rushed into the hall. Galen slapped for a sword that still wasn’t there, felt the tide rise, got as far as, Go for the first one, he’ll block the hall and you can use him for a shield—and then recognized Shane, Marcus and…”Jorge?”

“Well, I couldn’t let these two come alone,” said the paladin of the Dreaming God. “You know how horses feel about berserkers. I was afraid that if something bad happened, they’d be stranded with no ride in the middle of nowhere and we’d have to send a second rescue mission out for them.”

Shane and Marcus rolled their eyes. Of the seven broken paladins, Galen knew that they were the only two with a long history of riding. The others could ride a horse, more or less, if the horse was extremely calm and if the battle tide didn’t rise while on horseback, which was a recipe for disaster.

“A gnole could have followed with an ox!” said an extremely indignant voice behind Jorge. “A gnole does not approve of being put on a horse in front of a human. A horse did not approve either.”

“Has the threat been dealt with?” asked Shane.

“I strangled him, if that’s what you mean.”

Shane nodded. “Very well. I apologize for having rushed to your aid, in that case, but our gnole friend was most concerned—”

“No, no.” Galen held up his hands. “Thank the gods you’re here. We very nearly didn’t make it. And Earstripe was badly injured and Piper doesn’t know how to treat gnoles. We need to get him to a gnole doctor as soon as possible.”

Brindle shoved his way past the paladins, ears back. “A gnole is hurt?”

Galen led the way into the parlor. Piper leapt up, startled, then sagged with relief. “Oh sweet Rat, Brindle, I was so worried.”

Brindle flicked his ears. “A human warned me. A gnole thought it best to bring sword-humans. But a gnole is hurt?”

Piper nodded. “And I don’t have my kit. I’ve got some headache powders from the back of the drawer, but I don’t know what’s in them. Even if I could find a local doctor, I don’t know what or how much to use compared to a human to keep his fever down.”

Brindle put his nose next to Earstripe’s wound and sniffed. “Doesn’t smell rotten,” he said. “But too fresh to be sure.”

Piper nodded. “Can your people tolerate willowbark? I could maybe boil some of that, although god knows what the dosage would be like.”

Brindle shook his head. “Don’t know. Gnoles don’t use it.”

“Damnation.”

“Bad wound. Needs gnole medicine.” Brindle scowled. “Not bone-doctor’s fault. Gnole not human, human not gnole. Take a gnole to gnole-doctor, maybe a gnole gets better.”

“A day long ride with a broken leg, though?” Piper grimaced. “I don’t know how many bone fragments are left in the wound. I’m afraid something will tear and he’ll bleed to death.”

“If a gnole had an ox, a gnole wouldn’t worry about it.”

“If you had an ox, he’d die of old age before we got back to the city,” said Shane.

Galen turned to the other paladins, who were standing around awkwardly. “Can you get us to the river? If we can get him on a boat…”

“Yes, of course,” said Marcus. “One of us can ride upstream and hire a boat. There must be a place to make landfall near here, so we can minimize banging the poor fellow around.”

The door at the back of the parlor opened and Missus Hardy stumped in. “I heard voices—” she started to say, then stopped at the sight of the newcomers. “Mercy!”

Galen didn’t blame her. Three paladins in full armor could really suck the air out of a room. It didn’t help that Jorge was a paladin of the Dreaming God and thus incredibly handsome. Shane was close, although he tried to hide it under a regrettable beard, and Marcus, the most normal-looking of the bunch, was still as broad as a barrel and muscled like a bear.

“This is Missus Hardy,” said Galen, as all three of the paladins turned, reaching for their weapons. “She’s the housekeeper. We’d be in a world of hurt if not for her.”

“Ah.” Shane took several steps forward and bowed deeply. “My thanks for what you have done for my brother in arms, madam.”

“And mine,” said Jorge, pushing past him and taking Hardy’s hand in his. He bowed over it, because he was like that.