How he wished he could have Kahriah to tend to him now. Bleeding, one-armed and ragged, he desperately needed to see an herbalist. So disoriented he hadn’t even noticed the place he’d rode into. Somewhere, he dismounted his horse and collapsed to his knees. A woman rushed over to him, helped Lohmen to his feet, and the two staggered their way into a building.

***

“Oh good, you’re awake.” Said an older man with a shaved head and perfectly pointed goatee. Lohmen was lying in a cot, and his hand had been recently and professionally bandaged. The goateed man sat on a stool at Lohmen’s bedside and laid out a leather roll full of herbalist instruments.

“Hold still. This is going to hurt.” The herbalist was met with a grimace when he threaded a needle through Lohmen’s cheek. “Hold still I said.” He pulled the first stitch through and looped back for another. “So what happened?”

“Two men ambushed me at my camp. I…”

“You made it here. Looks like they picked the wrong Stranger to ambush.”

Lohmen waited for the next stitch to be pulled through before speaking.

“I… I had no choice. They were going to kill me.” Lohmen offered remorsefully, thinking back to his departed assailants.

“Good riddance. Too many bandits and bad folk these days. You did a good thing.”

Lohmen appreciated the supportive words, even if he could not take them to heart.

“Though it’s toe-headed to be travelling with that many lords.” The herbalist nodded toward the purse on the bedside table. He vowed to finally visit a bank, however.

“You see a lot of violence?” Lohmen asked, stilling his face for the next stitch.

“More recently, yes. But your kind seems to be on the winning end of it more oft than not.” He said with disdain.

“My kind?” Lohmen asked dubiously.

The healer stopped before the eighth and final stitch and narrowed his eyes at Lohmen.

“You don’t know….”

“I don’t know what?”

“I haven’t the time, Stranger. If you want, you should read something by Raev.” He was holding a small tin and put it on display for Lohmen. “Apply this salve to your hand every day for a week, and don’t get into any more fights. Off with you now. I’ve got others to tend to.”

“Who’s Raev?” Lohmen replied, taking the tin.

“For Fox’s sake…Raev? The ancient scholar? Ask around. The inn has a few books in the tavern. Check there.”

Lohmen held out some lords, and the healer took them in haste.

“And get to a bank.” The healer left and ducked into another room.

“Thank you,” Lohmen called to the healer, unsure if he’d heard. He made to stand, but felt a bit woozy and clutched the bedpost for support. A moment later, he collected his lord purse and left.

Famished and in pain, Lohmen figured he could only do something about the first. He grabbed both his bags, not wanting his possessions left unattended. Two packs shouldered, he entered the ‘Ole Maul & Chain for food. He’d rest after.

He sat at the edge of the room and tossed his bags on the opposite chair. No spycraft today. A young woman brought him a mug of ale.

“By the giants, what happened to you?” She surveyed Lohmen’s injuries.

“I…I don’t truly know.” His eyes were glazed, the night before replaying in his mind.

“Well, a generous helping of rabbit stew will fix you right up.” She smiled sympathetically. “It won’t, but you know what I mean.” Her dry humour snapped Lohmen back to the tavern.

“Sounds great.” His smile turned to a wince as the stitches pulled taught.

“Worry not. It’s more soup than stew.” The astute girl winked as she started to turn.

Remembering the words of the herbalist, Lohmen stopped his server, “Do you have any writings by Raev here?”

The barmaid laughed at the question.

“Yes, though I read it more often than your kind. Your lot seem to know it inside and out already.”

Unable to form a response, Lohmen sat quietly as their conversation became more one-sided. She left and returned to drop a thick book on the table. Lohmen dusted the cover and ran the fingers on his good hand over the simple embossed title.

Bags.