"You should kill me, for that was what I did to you by leaving you at the oasis!"
"And yet we're not. Jarken, go get some wood. That spear needs to come out and the wound's going to need to be cauterized or he'll bleed out," I said matter-of-factly.
We let Bruton settle back to the ground as the majority of those who had followed rushed off to get supplies and wood. Bruton's bloodshot eyes had never left me and he continued to probe for an answer, "Why?"
I shrugged, "Why not."
He snorted sharply and I could tell he wasn't content with my answer so I gave him the truth, as much as I knew of it, "It wouldn't have been right to just ride on and let you die out here in the sand."
"I did just the same to you!" he barked out.
"But you see, I'm not you. I'm me."
He was silent then and the others were back with the supplies and enough wood to make a fire. I watched as those more skilled in the art of caring for wounds took over.
The big man didn't even so much as flinch as the spear shaft was removed. Not even when the hot knives were pressed against the wounds. I flinched.
I hoped I'd done the right thing by saving this man, but I wasn't sure. For whatever reason, he seemed angry at me for saving him. I hoped he'd get over it because as an enemy I never wanted to face him.
*****
We passed through several Lancandian towns until we reached the mistress's home city of Fortoran, the capital of the Kingdomer Nation of Lancandia. It's appearance was even more garish and well-off than Thyana's had been.
That was kind of a surprise. Thyana was already showing the stress of the constant raids along her southern border and yet I saw none of that here and Lancandia actually bordered the Itarga Mountains from where the lion men came.
Lancandia was a much closer target to be raided than Thyana. Lancandia had always been known as the most peaceful of the seven kingdoms and as a result they fielded the smallest of the seven armies. What was protecting them from invasion?
Looking about at all the expensive wares and how well-off everyone seemed to be, I couldn't quite get out of my head that perhaps the invasion had come from a different means. Had they sold their soul?
We soon found out, from asking some questions, that the mistress had surprisingly survived the attack on the caravan and had arrived within the city several days before. We headed with what remained of the caravan toward the mansion that we were told was hers.