“Gather them up and put them in the tents. Search them for weapons first, and keep the warriors apart.” Pike took over command as the battle ended, yelling out orders and instructions that Corbin translated. Gar was still sprawled at his feet, and Pike grinned down at his brother. "Make sure this one is alive. I haven't decided what to do with him yet."

“They have the bride, they think.” Corbin said.

“They think?” Pike asked, irritated. “Take me to her.”

Corbin snapped the command to the Obsidian warrior who'd come with the news.

Gar was dragged to the Odion tent and dumped inside, alone and covered in blood. The wound was painful, but not as much as he expected, and that worried him most. A deep wound that didn’t pain you was always more serious than the one that did, and he still couldn’t move his leg.

Kindra always kept a dagger under her bed and the Obsidians hadn’t found it. All of Fennec’s weapons had been removed, but the small dagger would be easier to hide. Gar tucked it next to his injured leg. There was also a basket of dried herbs left over from Kindra's injuries last autumn. He riffled through until he found the pain-killing and anti-inflammatory herbs that he could recognize. He chewed willow bark for the pain, but before he could put anything on the wound, he would have to clean it; a difficult task when you couldn’t see it.

There was a large basin of water left over from Kindra’s wedding preparations, and Gar used an old shirt of Fennec’s to rinse his wound. He was single-minded in his duty, keeping all thoughts of the battle from his mind. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to think straight, and the wound would fester. Pike may kill him tomorrow, but he wouldn't let his brother break him.

Once clean—the wound felt deep—he chewed the herbs into a paste and smeared them on, then tied a folded cloth over it with another of Fennec’s shirts. Gar’s shirt was ripped and stained with blood, and he exchanged that for one of Fennec's as well, although the nagging guilt resurfaced.

And that brought thoughts of Kindra. Now that his ministrations were complete, the thoughts he had been holding back moved in, pinning him with despair. Where was Kindra? He was sure Bryant had been the one who grabbed her, but who was to say he got her to safety? If the Obsidians caught her, Pike would kill her, Gar was sure of that.

Even if they did get away safely, where would they go? The Faye land? Kindra would hate that. Kaye said Kindra would love the ocean while they watched the doomed ceremony. He tried to imagine her alive at the ocean, but all he could see was her at the mourning rock, crying because this time everyone had been taken from her. With no one to bring her out of it, Kindra really would grieve herself to death.

If only Bryant hadn’t grabbed her, Gar wouldn’t have opened himself to attack. He thought he had learned that lesson years ago, but if he had to trade his life for hers, he was glad to do it. Eoin would take care of Kindra, and would see that Pike got what was coming to him.

Pushing himself into Kindra’s cot, Gar closed his eyes and took a deep breath of her. She had always smelled of iron and priestess herbs. If Pike came to kill Gar he’d try to fight, but the warrior resigned himself to his fate.