The Raven's Blade

The Injured Soldier

Ilsa

"What the hell is going on?" Ilsa exclaimed as she dashed out of the tent, Adamo right behind her.

A commotion right outside had summoned about seven different people, all discussing something together in worried tones. It obviously hadn't stopped the fight as the roars of the crowd could still be heard but it seemed significant enough that Ilsa and Adamo ran over to ask if anyone needed assistance. Ilsa realised pretty quickly that her skills were somewhat insignificant as the issue at hand was a young man with his hands clutched to his side where a knife had found a gap in his armour. Ilsa stopped dead in her tracks. She'd seen injuries, sure, but at a distance where the cheer of the crowd covers up the pained groans of the injured person and they were usually whisked away to the physician before anyone could get a good view. She had no idea what to do and it was taking a lot of effort to not turn away immediately from the dark blood flowing from between his fingers.

"Cloak please." Adamo held out his hand towards her. Ilsa fumbled with the ties of the cloak wrapped around her shoulders and shoved it into his hands, realising that he couldn't take off his cloak without people realising it was him. Adamo knelt next to the young man, who was breathing shakily. Someone came up and removed his helmet, revealing curly black hair. After pressing the fabric to the wound, Ilsa noticed Adamo looking around hurriedly.

"Is the physician here?" He asked, the people around shook their heads. "What are you doing then? Go get him!"

A young man and woman in the small gathering rushed off, hopefully to grab the physician. Ilsa's eyes were drawn back to the injured man, his eyes squeezed shut from pain. Muttered prayers to different gods were heard as Adamo looked at the wound to assess the damage. He breathed a sigh of relief,

"This can be stitched."

"And that's good?" A woman asked.

Adamo shrugged, his brow still creased in what was either worry, concentration or both. An old man that Ilsa recognised as the court physician ran over with the two people who had fetched him, their arms laden with bandages and pots of presumably what were dressings. The physician kneeled next to Adamo.

"Hmmm. This will be quite difficult, haven't done this in a while." He muttered to himself.

"What?" Ilsa blurted, "Didn't you go to medical school?"

"Well yes. However, I don't have much, uh, experience. Especially not in battle wounds. My apprentice took over for me for the past couple of years as I was tending to one of the Thanes' illness during the time of the tournament." The physician informed.

Adamo swore under his breath but Ilsa could see that he had realised that he had to sort this out himself. She remembered that he had once mentioned that he'd rather study medicine than diplomacy. Interesting.

"Do you have anything for stitching wounds?" Adamo asked, the physician nodded and passed him the materials and to the young man he passed a flask of what Ilsa assumed was wine, the man immediately pressed it to his lips. Another person came running over with a stretcher which the young man was gently moved onto. Two volunteers helped carry it with the physician in tow.

"Can you go tell Theodore and Rosina that I've gone with this guy?" Adamo yelled over his shoulder to Ilsa as he ran after the stretcher.

"Sure," Ilsa called back and sighed as she walked over to the arena. They'd finished up now and as she wandered over she passed Theodore.

"Hey Ilsa!" Theodore smiled and waved her over.

"Hi," she grinned, "where's Rosina?"

"What do you mean?" Theodore responded, his brow furrowed. "I thought she was with you."