The sound of weak screams filled the air as we came across our first patient. A young man, no more than twenty laid on the ground underneath a nice stallion. His arm was pinned and probably broken while it looked like a mace caught the gambeson protecting his lower upper body. Internal injuries are almost certain. I was going to treat him myself as a demonstration. I crouched and stuck a needle into his exposed calf, injecting a small dose of numbing agent. The man's cries died after a second. His eyes turned to me blearily and the corners of his lips gave me a weak smile.

I motioned the girl over before lifting the horse up slightly to allow her to drag the man’s arm free. His forearm had seen better days, but it wasn’t the worst thing I’ve seen. Thankfully his arm was not in splinters and a simple brace should work well enough. I grabbed the boy’s empty sheath from his waist along with the downed stallion’s leather stirrups. After a minute, his arm was set, and the numbing agent apparently knocked him out. I checked his side for internal damage but found nothing except a sizable bruise.

We moved on to the next person, similarly a young man and in the same uniform. It looks like we stumbled across the aftermath of a cavalry charge, as there was another felled horse nearby. This man was less lucky, with two arrows stuck into his gambeson. Their large shafts and deep penetration indicate they came from a war bow. I drew my dagger and cut the gambeson to check the damage. The cloth armor stopped one of the arrows but the other penetrated deep into his stomach. I take back my previous thought that they both came from a war bow, this one was obviously a crossbow bolt. His stomach and much of his intestines were ruptured. Without the use of magic or intensive surgery, he was a dead man. His pulse was already weak, and his mind was fading, the only thing I was going to do now was give him a shot of painkiller and move on. By the time we help this man, two more would have died. If he was still alive by the time we move on to intensive care, I would be more than willing to help.

Half the day had passed by the time we checked half the field. My student took quick to first aid and trauma treatments and was now dealing with fallen soldiers by herself. From what I could deduce this battle was the result of a charge against an entrenched enemy, and from what I can see, it was moderately successful. My mind was brought back to the man underneath me, he had fallen on a broken spear which stabbed through his thigh, but with a tourniquet and many many bandages the bleeding had stopped and I was able to close the wound. He struggled beneath me as I pierced his flesh with needle and thread. It was not the best fix, but he will live another day.

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From what I can tell, we arrived on the battlefield less than thirty minutes after the fighting. It was good that we did not encounter stray bands of soldiers, but I was concerned about the lack of troops inspecting the battlefield. At this rate, the field of blood will start to attract some less than pleasant visitors. By the time we were done with first aid, night had set in. I was on guard now; it only takes twelve hours for the spirits of the fallen to start to cause problems. I took things into my own hands and began to cleanse the battlefield. My student was given the task to set up a medical tent to provide cover and to start intensive care. As I made my way around with incense in hand, I found an abandoned cart, likely used to transport equipment, which would also work to transport injured men. I gave it a look over and lugged it out of the mud. I located the two horses nearby that used to pull it, but they were long dead, but that was not much of a problem.

With a snap of my finger the horses began to writhe and twist, bones broke and reshaped while flesh melted and hardened. The two bloated, dead, mares rose once again. I felt my lips twitch at the sight of their bodies transforming. All I wanted was some puppets, what in the world is going on. Their mouths began to widen as their herbivorous teeth began to fall out and get replaced by certainly not herbivorous teeth. Their tawny hides turned to coal and their skulls began to move their eyes forward. At this point, I just stopped caring. They turned to face me with their glowing red eyes before kneeling. I pinched the bridge of my mask, yet another thing that’s not supposed to gain a will suddenly gained a will. I can’t even guess how it happened this time.

The pair of horses, they probably can’t be called that anymore, dutifully took their places at the cart allowing me to hook them up. I found some cloth and pol arms in the cart, which I used to make a stretcher. As I continued to cleanse, I picked up the stray living soldier and some dead as well. The alive ones certainly didn’t care about being placed together with their dead comrades, but I certainly didn’t care about their not caring. I felt immediate relief when the sun finally dipped below the horizon. I suffered a whole day in direct sunlight, and I was none too happy. I really hate people who decide to fight early morning, this was also one of the reasons I kept my magic expenditure to a minimum. I took out a bottle of wine that I mixed with blood and gave it a good swig. Tomorrow I’m just going to stay in the tent all day and do surgeries, this was just too annoying.