The Children of Urdis (Grimwold and Lethos Book 2) by Jerry Autieri Page A
Authors: Jerry Autieri
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Magnor and the others looked expectantly at him. "I don't think he would die. No amount of cutting or digging will hurt him over much."
The three men glanced at each other, and Magnor folded his arms. "I've heard the rumors of the war chief's proof against blades. But here he is with an arrow sticking out of his chest and knocked out like a drunk. So something can hurt him, and I don't want to be the man who accidentally killed the war chief."
"It is a stone arrowhead," Lethos said, now examining the wound himself. The links of broken mail revealed Grimwold's waxy flesh which puckered up around the shaft. Only a tiny stream of blood had issued from it. Lethos feared pulling the arrow out would be like uncorking a bottle and blood would geyser into the air. "It can be withdrawn, but I fear breaking the head off before it is extracted."
Magnor leveled his gaze at Lethos. "How do you know it's a stone arrowhead?"
"I saw it in flight, just before it hit him."
Again the three men exchanged wary glances. Lethos's face warmed as he realized how he must now sound to these men. "Look, here is your war chief in dire need. Can you help him or not?"
The answer came with Magnor's nod to the man with the head bandage. He stepped to another bench and retrieved a bloody set of knives and tongs. A woman bought him a bowl of water and rags. More men began to gather, though Lethos would rather have looked away. Grimwold was a still as death, and if he truly died, Lethos would follow. Their lives were intertwined in ways he still did not comprehend, but he remembered the madness he endured prior to bonding with Grimwold. He never wanted to revisit those days.
Magnor used tongs to break more of the chain coat and expose Grimwold's undershirt, which he tore away. He rinsed his tools in the water and patted them off with a cloth. Lethos could only think of rust, but the tools shimmered cleanly in the golden firelight. Magnor's hand trembled as he raised a long, thin blade over the entry wound.
"I'll cut away the flesh to loosen the arrow, then I'll give it a pull. Hopefully it's not caught on a rib. It was stone, you say?" Lethos nodded, and Magnor grumbled. The onlookers murmured at the news as well. He noted how they looked at him and how none came close. He stood alone by Grimwold's head, with only Magnor close.
The knife slipped easily into the wound and dark blood bubbled up and a thin line of it rolled toward his back. Magnor seemed to be exploring with the blade, and his eyes kept flicking to Grimwold's face. He did not move, and Lethos felt nothing but the same ache he had endured since the arrow had struck. Magnor sawed around and then gave a gentle tug on the arrow shaft.
"It's in tight, but I think if I am careful I can draw it back along the same path and out of his flesh. I've never dealt with a stone arrow before, but I am guessing it was not barbed. I'll cut a bit more to ease the arrow along." Lethos shook his head and realized how hideous this whole thing would be if it had been a barbed arrowhead. Did men really do such things to each other? Of course, he knew the answer but preferred not to consider it. He stared at Grimwold's face rather than watch Magnor at his gory work. The waxy flesh made him look like another person. Lethos had never felt so silent or so alone. For the last year, Grimwold had been a constant presence in his mind, even when not actively trying to contact each other telepathically. Now he was just--gone. He was not dead, but he was not present in any sense.
"I'm going to try extracting it now." Magnor's voice quavered, and Lethos chanced a glance at the arrow. More blood had seeped around the wound, but Lethos was watching it heal even as Magnor began extracting the arrow. "What's this?"
"We heal from wounds much faster than you do," Lethos said. Magnor gave him a confused look. "I'm not sure why he has not expelled the arrow yet. It is enchanted, I fear."
"Well, I don't know how to treat
The three men glanced at each other, and Magnor folded his arms. "I've heard the rumors of the war chief's proof against blades. But here he is with an arrow sticking out of his chest and knocked out like a drunk. So something can hurt him, and I don't want to be the man who accidentally killed the war chief."
"It is a stone arrowhead," Lethos said, now examining the wound himself. The links of broken mail revealed Grimwold's waxy flesh which puckered up around the shaft. Only a tiny stream of blood had issued from it. Lethos feared pulling the arrow out would be like uncorking a bottle and blood would geyser into the air. "It can be withdrawn, but I fear breaking the head off before it is extracted."
Magnor leveled his gaze at Lethos. "How do you know it's a stone arrowhead?"
"I saw it in flight, just before it hit him."
Again the three men exchanged wary glances. Lethos's face warmed as he realized how he must now sound to these men. "Look, here is your war chief in dire need. Can you help him or not?"
The answer came with Magnor's nod to the man with the head bandage. He stepped to another bench and retrieved a bloody set of knives and tongs. A woman bought him a bowl of water and rags. More men began to gather, though Lethos would rather have looked away. Grimwold was a still as death, and if he truly died, Lethos would follow. Their lives were intertwined in ways he still did not comprehend, but he remembered the madness he endured prior to bonding with Grimwold. He never wanted to revisit those days.
Magnor used tongs to break more of the chain coat and expose Grimwold's undershirt, which he tore away. He rinsed his tools in the water and patted them off with a cloth. Lethos could only think of rust, but the tools shimmered cleanly in the golden firelight. Magnor's hand trembled as he raised a long, thin blade over the entry wound.
"I'll cut away the flesh to loosen the arrow, then I'll give it a pull. Hopefully it's not caught on a rib. It was stone, you say?" Lethos nodded, and Magnor grumbled. The onlookers murmured at the news as well. He noted how they looked at him and how none came close. He stood alone by Grimwold's head, with only Magnor close.
The knife slipped easily into the wound and dark blood bubbled up and a thin line of it rolled toward his back. Magnor seemed to be exploring with the blade, and his eyes kept flicking to Grimwold's face. He did not move, and Lethos felt nothing but the same ache he had endured since the arrow had struck. Magnor sawed around and then gave a gentle tug on the arrow shaft.
"It's in tight, but I think if I am careful I can draw it back along the same path and out of his flesh. I've never dealt with a stone arrow before, but I am guessing it was not barbed. I'll cut a bit more to ease the arrow along." Lethos shook his head and realized how hideous this whole thing would be if it had been a barbed arrowhead. Did men really do such things to each other? Of course, he knew the answer but preferred not to consider it. He stared at Grimwold's face rather than watch Magnor at his gory work. The waxy flesh made him look like another person. Lethos had never felt so silent or so alone. For the last year, Grimwold had been a constant presence in his mind, even when not actively trying to contact each other telepathically. Now he was just--gone. He was not dead, but he was not present in any sense.
"I'm going to try extracting it now." Magnor's voice quavered, and Lethos chanced a glance at the arrow. More blood had seeped around the wound, but Lethos was watching it heal even as Magnor began extracting the arrow. "What's this?"
"We heal from wounds much faster than you do," Lethos said. Magnor gave him a confused look. "I'm not sure why he has not expelled the arrow yet. It is enchanted, I fear."
"Well, I don't know how to treat
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