The villagers carried the unconscious man to Kinic’s house.

Not bothering to knock, they pushed into the treatment room that occupied the whole first floor of the house and lay the man on a table as Toland hastily cleared it.

“Kinic!” shouted Rin up the stairs.

Toland hurried over to the dying fire, grabbed the bucket of water beside it and set the kettle to boil.

“Kinic!” shouted Rin again, this time he heard the sound of boots hitting the floor.

Kinic hurried down the stairs, pulling a jacket on.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said as he ran, “I was only going to close my eyes for a moment…”

Then he saw the man lying on the table.

“Horo’s beard,” he breathed and took off his jacket again.

“I need some water to wash the…” he started before Toland handed him the kettle.

“Right, thank you.”

Kinic then washed his hands with the remaining water and set to work. Gently undoing the bandages, washing the wound and then with a spool of thread began delicately tying off exposed arteries.

“Toland,” Kinic said as he worked, “Find the bullwort and some herdgrus, mix them with a few drops of anaregia and then place them under his tongue. Do not let him swallow it.”

Toland nodded and went off to find the items from the shelves of ingredients.

The men watched in silence as they worked, huddled around in a semi-circle.

The girl slid between the men and took up a place next to the bench, looming over Kinic.

“Will he live?” she asked so quietly Toland thought he might have imagined it.

“I… Maybe… He has lost a lot of blood, but judging by his condition he got help very quickly so his odds are better for it…”

He took his eyes off the man’s leg for a second to glance up at the unfamiliar voice and stopped dead.

He looked at her dumbstruck, her sapphire eyes locked with his.

The village of Hinswirth was on the western most edge of the Kingdom of Esteria, the Aravengali mountains were considered inhospitable, unclaimed territory and as such were the perfect border between Esteria and the Kingdom of Anglave. The villagers had never been further east than the small market town of Dunlun, as such they had never seen anyone from the royal family, or even seen a picture of them. This far from a city it was even rare to see a coin than might have had a stamped imprint depicting the king.

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But Kinic knew, and his brain could come up with no reasonable explanation for why Katrina, first princess of Esteria, only child of King Telagash and heir to the throne, was stood in his house in her nightclothes in the middle of the night.

Toland had mixed the herbs as instructed, and using a small spoon placed the reddish-brown liquid under the unconscious man’s tongue.

“How?” asked Kinic.

The villagers shifted uncomfortably, unsure as to why Kinic was looking at this girl so strangely and not wishing to interrupt his work.

Toland glanced up too, but when he realized Kinic wasn’t talking to him, he returned to administering to the unconscious man.

The girl met Kinic’s stare for a second, then gestured to the man, “Please, continue.”

Kinic shook his head clear and nodded, returning to administering to the wounds.

After Toland had administered the herbs as best he could, he used the spoon to push down on the man’s tongue, keeping the mixture in place.

Rin took off his coat and placed it around the girl’s shoulders then said to the rest of the villagers, “We should leave these three to it, we should return to the watch.”

The men grumbled their assent and Kinic’s house, clearly unhappy that they would not find out how two mysterious strangers in their night clothes found their way to their hill in the dark this night.

After another hour of work Kinic sat back in his chair, satisfied that he could do no more.

Katrina looked at him expectantly.

“I think he will live,” Kinic sighed and washed his hands of blood.

She nodded.

“Thank you. I… I have no coin, I…”

Kinic held up his hand, “There are no coins out here, this land is harsh and cold, if we kept ledgers of favors owed and debts incurred we would have died out long ago.”

She nodded again and placed her hand on the man’s chest, grabbing ahold of a clump of his shirt.

“Nevertheless,” she said, “I will see you repaid, I swear it.”

It was Kinic’s turn to nod.

“Is there any of the mixture under his tongue left?” he asked of Toland.

Toland took a moment to check, then nodded.

“Take it out and throw it away then, its done its job.”

Toland did as he was told and then washed his hands as well.

Then the front door burst open again, this time the villagers were carrying Duglan Ir Shan and Herdru in. Both had massive wounds on their chests and faces, broader and deeper than any wound even a mighty two-handed broadsword could inflict.

“Horo’s pale…” Kinic began and caught himself before he said the next phrase in front of a princess.

The villagers lowered the stricken men onto the other tables in the room and Kinic began fussing over them.

The villages gathered around the two men, looking at them with awe.

“They did it, Kinic,” one of them said, “The crazy fools… We ran, but these two. Well mainly Herdru… But… its out in the village square now, dead.”

“The wolf?” Kinic replied.

The men nodded.

“Herdru killed it, stabbed it through the neck. Its blood was black, Kinic, black as tar. The direwolf is dead.”