Chapter 19-7

It took them most of the day to get back to the town. They had to stop often to rest, and for Almonihah to readjust the bandages he'd improvised for both of them. Eventually, however, they reached the stockade. The guards' reaction at their appearance was... interesting.

“Quit staring and take us to a healer!” Almonihah growled at the nearest one.

The young guard, who had indeed been staring with his mouth open just a bit at the sight of these two ravaged warriors, shut his mouth, gulped, and waved for them to follow him.

As he followed, Almonihah suddenly remembered something. He stopped and pulled the dragon claw out of a small sack hanging from his belt.

“Fixed th' dragon problem,” he mumbled. The other guard, who had been staying at his post, got a little wide-eyed looking at the sword-length claw. 

Almonihah dimly noted through the fog descending on his brain that there were a number of people watching them pass through the streets. He pondered tiredly on how quickly news of them had apparently spread through the small town. A few of them yelled things that he thought were encouraging, but he didn't pay much notice. Zakhin'Dakh gave them a tired, but appreciative, cheep. 

Both of them only vaguely noted when they stopped in front of a small temple to Mashano, the god of Humanity. The head priest hurried out, with a guard who had apparently gotten there before them (Had there been another one that had run ahead? That seemed to explain some things to Almonihah. Maybe. When he wasn't so tired, maybe it would.). He asked some questions, to which Almonihah could only mutter half-audible replies. After a few moments, he stopped and waved to a couple other people nearby. 

He wasn't quite sure how he got inside or how they managed to arrange him halfway comfortably in a bed, with his broken wing hanging awkwardly behind him like it was. After a moment, he managed to rouse himself enough to look at the priest standing nearby and ask, “Zakhin'Dakh?”

“Some of my acolytes led him to the innyard. It was, ah,” the priest seemed a bit embarrased, “the only semi-private place with enough room.” Seeming to sense the half-dragon's continued concern, he added, “I will see to him as soon as I have finished here.”

“Should take caref 'm first,” Almonihah mumbled, with what urgency he could muster. “Got worse 'an me...”

The priest's only response was to begin a spell-prayer, and soon after, Almonihah was asleep again.

****

Apparently Almonihah was hurt worse than he thought. That, or I'm tired. Good night.