POV: Seraphina
Seraphina pulled her sleeve over the mark. Her fingers still trembled as she worked the wet cloth down her arm.
"Corwin needs to look at that," Yona said.
"When we stop."
Yona stayed beside her while the wagons moved past the pit. Seraphina watched Thalion test the ground ahead of each one, keeping her hands close to her body.
By the time the last wagon passed, the men were working by lamplight. Thalion walked beside it with one hand held over the broken ground, keeping it firm under the wheels. Two of Gavrel's men carried lamps on either side.
Once the last wagon had crossed the shallow part of the river, the convoy climbed the hillside on the other side. They reached level ground wide enough for a line of tents, and Thalion ordered them to stop there. The men began unloading the wagons.
Yona had Seraphina's tent ready when she arrived. Seraphina had carried Suri against her side on the ride uphill. As soon as she set him down, he headed toward the horses.
Inside the tent, Yona waited for Seraphina to take off the wet trousers, then reached for them.
"You tore these at the shin. I hope you treated the leg better."
"The fire closed the scrape. I did not stop to repair the trousers."
Yona wore gloves as she lifted the trousers toward the lamp. The pit water had dried into a gray crust from the waist down. A little of it flaked off under her thumb.
"Let me see it before you put on the clean trousers. I saw what that water did to the men."
Yona checked the healed skin, then folded the wet trousers over her arm. Clean water and dry clothes waited beside the cot, and she stayed while Seraphina washed the dirt from her skin. Seraphina put on the clean clothes, but the smell of the pit still clung to her hair.
"Sit down," Yona said. "Corwin is on his way."
Corwin came in wiping his hands. He smelled of the pit and the alcohol he used to clean his needles. A red rope burn ran along his forearm. "You might bandage your own arm before you start on mine," Seraphina said.
"I'll bandage it after I've finished with you. You are more likely to disappear if I turn my back." He sat beside her on the cot and held out his hand. Seraphina rested her arm across his palm. Both forearms ached from wrist to elbow where she had gripped the staff, and her fingers still trembled.
Corwin pushed her sleeve up and touched the highest gold line. It ended where Yona had measured it beside the road, a finger's width above the crease of her elbow.
"What did you feel when you closed the fire?" Corwin asked.
"You were there. You saw what happened."
"Tell me anyway."
"The heat rushed back into my arms. I tried to send it down the staff, but the ground could not take it all. My hands opened before I could stop them. Thalion had to steady the soil before I could hold the staff again."
Corwin placed two fingers against the highest gold line, then moved them up her arm to her shoulder. "The ritual drew it back from your collarbones," he said. "You do not have to get that close to your heart again before I tell you to stop."
"I cleared you for small burns. You held soulfire around everyone in that pit, then had to take it back when you closed it. The ground could not take all of it for you. That is why I warned you before you spread the fire farther."
"There were nine of us in that hole. I could not leave them in that water."
"I know. I tried to stop you, and you did it anyway. You got us out." He released her arm. "But getting out does not mean your arms can take another burn tonight. Lucien cannot put you through a ritual while he is recovering from a head injury. Keep the fire closed and give yourself time to rest. The pain may be worse tomorrow."
"I understand."
"Good." He closed his kit. "The skin around the paladin's leg wound is warmer than it was when I finished stitching it. I'm staying with him tonight. I'll keep checking the other two who were trapped beside him as well."
"You said we would talk if the wound changed."
"That is why I'm telling you." His voice stayed quiet. "The warmth alone does not tell me whether corruption is still in the wound. I've cleaned it and stitched it, and I need to watch what it does. If those dark veins return or he gets worse, I'll call you and we'll decide what to do. Until then, keep the fire closed. Yona will bring your drink at the second hour. Make sure you take it."
At the tent opening, he stopped with one hand against the canvas.
"I need to examine Liora next. She'll be even harder than you to get an honest answer from. She landed on her side when the road collapsed, and I think she has cracked a rib. She's been walking around on it because she won't sit down while you're still on your feet."
"I need to speak to Gavrel before I lie down."
"Then sit down while you talk to him." Corwin lifted the tent flap. "I'll send Liora back after I examine her. Between the two of you, I would like one patient to stay where I left her."
Seraphina left the tent after him. The men had lit the campfires and tied the horses for the night. Cold air came through her sleeves, and her arms began to ache as they had in the water.
Brennan had unloaded the supplies from the last wagon. A driver held a lamp while he checked the supplies and counted them.
Lucien sat on a crate near the second fire, his closed case resting on his knees. The soldier beside him would help him lie down on his blankets and wake him every two hours, as Corwin had ordered.
"Corwin took my pen and my lamp," Lucien said when she stopped beside him. "He told me not to read or write tonight. Then he left this man to wake me every two hours and check whether I can answer his questions."
He lifted his head slowly and looked at her face.
"How does your arm feel?"
"Corwin has examined it."
"I asked how it feels."
The ache had sharpened in the cold. She knew Lucien was concerned, and for a moment she wanted to answer him. But she had just heard Corwin's warning. She did not want to say it aloud to someone else yet.
He waited. When she did not answer, he looked down at the case on his knees.
"There are two accounts of this crossing that I need to record, and I cannot write either of them tonight. The last inspection report says the crossing is safe. It says the crew finished their work and closed the waystation before they left. That is what the records will tell anyone who comes this way. I need to put what we found today beside it."
"How will you show the difference between the report and what we found?"
"I will put both accounts on the same page, with the date beside each one. Anyone reading it should be able to compare what the inspectors recorded with what we found under the road today. They should be able to see when the crossing was declared safe and when we found it like this." He looked up again. "Yona told me today's date earlier, but I cannot remember it. Tell me again. I need the right date for this report."
Seraphina gave him the date. Lucien repeated it under his breath, then said it once more, slowly, trying to remember it. He had given Corwin the wrong date after the blow to his head, and Yona's correction had already slipped from his memory.
"And I need to record that the mark on the post is newer than the last inspection in my papers," he said. "Anyone reading the account should be able to see that the report does not explain that mark."
The soldier stood to help Lucien lie down on his blankets. Seraphina moved on before Lucien could ask about her arm again. She smelled vinegar as she passed the fires and followed it toward the horses.
At the far fire, a paladin was already telling the men about the rescue. He described the road collapsing under them, the wagon hanging over the hole, and the captain standing waist-deep in the water. Then he spread his hands to show them how wide the shield had been.
"It was gold," he said. "I swear it. The captain's shield, Renn's shield, and the Shard's breastplate. All three turned gold. I saw them from the edge of the pit. Ask anyone who was there."
The men around him laughed as he held his hands apart, still showing them the size of the shield.
Beyond the horses, men were working with three barrels. They had set them away from the campfires so the wind would carry the vinegar smell away from the men eating dinner.
The nearest barrel held Gavrel's mail. His armor plates had already been scrubbed and stacked on a stand beside it. His sword belt lay across them with the buckle facing up. The barrel was half full of river sand mixed with vinegar, and a paladin had strapped the lid shut. He rolled it back and forth along the ground with his boot.
"How long will you have to keep doing that?" Seraphina asked.
The paladin straightened when he recognized her.
"We will roll the barrel through the night, my lady. Tomorrow we will put it on the wagon and turn it by hand whenever we stop. The sand has to keep moving over the rings. If it settles around the mail, it stops scraping the rust away. We need to get the mail clean and dry before the rust eats too far into the metal."
"What do you do after the sand has cleaned it?"
"We will dry the mail beside the fire and oil each ring by hand. If we can get all the rust off, it should be ready sometime tomorrow."
The second barrel held the mail from the three paladins who had fallen into the pit. Thalion's mail was in the third.
Five padded coats hung over a bar beside a smaller fire. They were still black and wet. Sand could clean the metal rings, but the coats were layers of linen filled with wool and stitched together. The pit water had soaked through the linen into the filling.
Brennan came past carrying his lamp. He stopped beside Seraphina and looked at the coats.
"We cannot save those, my lady." He spoke as calmly as he would have about a broken wagon wheel. "We cannot wash out what has soaked into the wool. We would have to undo the stitching, pull out all the filling, and replace it. I do not carry enough wool for even one coat."
"Can we get replacements before we reach the capital?"
"Only if we stop in a town long enough to have them made, my lady. A man who makes padded armor would need about four days for each coat. I cannot make them here on the road, even if I had the wool."
"Could they wear the mail without the padded coats?"
Brennan shook his head. "The rings would press against their bodies. By noon, the weight alone would leave them bruised. If a hard blow landed, the links could cut into their skin. The padding keeps that from happening."
He touched the nearest sleeve. Some of the black coating rubbed off on his thumb, and he wiped it on his trousers without seeming to notice.
"That leaves three paladins, the captain, and His Highness without armor. We will not finish cleaning the mail before tomorrow afternoon. Even then, they cannot wear it until someone makes five new coats." He lifted his lamp. "I will record the loss with the supplies. There is little else I can do about it tonight."
The paladin went back to rolling the barrel. Whoever prepared that trap had put corrupted water under a road used by armored men. Seraphina could not know whether they had meant to ruin the coats. She left Brennan to record the loss and turned back toward the campfires.