“I am well enough,” Éhal protested.
“Are you?” said Florin. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
Éhal squinted, trying to count his upraised digits. Florin lowered his hand. “Close your eyes and stand straight,” he commanded. And caught her as she lost her balance... nearly fell. “As you can see, you are not well,” said Florin kindly. “I am not keeping you here out of malice.”
“But I must know what is happening,” protested Éhal. “I am responsible for my command.”
“We are well ahead of the enemy,” said Florin. “Their progress is very slow. We sting and antagonize them under cover of darkness, firing volleys of arrows into their ranks, and they have no way to retaliate. Baldric is doing very well.”
“Were any lost... because of my... my mishap?” she asked apprehensively.
“Our losses have been very few, and all have been from getting too close to the enemy. None of your companions was lost,” said Florin.
“Has the enemies’ vanguard followed us?” she asked.
Florin chuckled. “Morlock’s entire army is on the move,” he replied. “Many times many are headed southeast.”
“Southeast?”
“Yes,” said Florin. “It would appear that Morlock and the Demon King are no longer allies.”
“Surely that bodes well for us!” she cried.