Gillandra and Jayhawk were kneeling near Thoren who lay unconscious on the ground. Gillandra had placed a folded blanket under Thoren's head and was gingerly removing the tatters of leather that covered his wounded chest. Her container of salve was at her side and ready for use.
Lysette walked back to the place where Thoren lay, but as she walked she looked about at the scene unfolding before her. Thoren's men-at-arms were lined all around the area preventing the curious among the townsfolk from getting too close. A few of the wearer's of the Skewered Boar were being led away in chains. Some had bolted for the open country the minute they saw Morded fall. The rest had gleefully cast off their jerkins when they realized Ragnhild and her son had lost. They surrendered their weapons to Thoren's men as quickly as their horses could get them across the field.
Ragnar at first didn't quite know what to do with these prisoners, but decided to tell them to dismount and wait. There seemed no fight in them so there was little to fear. He felt he should see to Thoren first. Gillandra, Benson and Jayhawk made that unnecessary.
Some of Thoren's men were building a large conveyance to carry the troll from the field and to the pyre being built outside of the walls of the city. Morded lay where he fell, largely ignored, except by a few crows picking at this or that or whatever caught their fancy. The son of Ragnhild could wait while the assuredly more valiant troll is given a warrior's send off. The Norse would deal with what the crows left afterwards. These were the commands given by Ragnar as Thoren lay on the ground being attended to by his friends.
"Jayhawk, he has lost a lot of blood. He has two broken ribs where he was struck by the mace. The salve will help with the deep cuts, but it cannot reach the ribs. There may be internal damage," said Gillandra.
Jayhawk frowned. He saw Lysette in the distance walking towards them. Benson was busy with the men building the carrier for the troll. Wendolin and the gnome was standing with Ragnar. It was Gillandra and himself only at Thoren's side. "Now," he said. "The time is now."
Gillandra looked at him with a puzzled expression. Jayhawk saw this and said, "Never mind, just please do as I ask. Hold his shoulders to the ground and don't let him move. Watch his eyes for any sign of consciousness." Gillandra did as she was told.
Jayhawk knelt down at Thoren's side and placed one hand on the area of the damaged ribs and the other over the foot long slice in Thoren's chest. Gillandra stared into Thoren's face watching for movement. She placed one hand on each shoulder to hold the warrior down should he move. She saw nothing of what Jayhawk did in the next moment or two.
Lysette stopped in her tracks as she saw Jayhawk kneel down and Gillandra take her position near Thoren. Curiously, the air around all three suddenly began to shimmer and waver ever so slightly so that the figures seemed to become unfocused and less clear, but still distinctly recognizable. From her position Lysette could see only Jayhawk's back, not his face. She could not see the minstrel close his seagreen eyes hiding them as they changed from their normal color to golden blue and back again. Nor could she see the strange aura of light that seemed to spread from the area of the minstrel's hands and course up Thoren's body in all directions.
Lysette restarted her walk and hurried her step just as Jayhawk removed his hands and let out a deep, strain ridden breath. "Will he live, Minstrel?" she asked. Jayhawk looked up and nodded. "He will now, Lysette." Then he said to Gillandra, "Apply the salve if you wish. It should have the desired effect." Then Jayhawk rose to his feet, turning to face Lysette. "He will need a lot of rest to rebuild himself, but the cut will heal and so will his other wounds. He will need a gentle hand in the meanwhile to care for him."
"I am here," said Lysette.
"Then his recovery will be all the swifter, I'm sure," replied Jayhawk, a smile forming on his face.
A cart filled with fresh, sweet smelling straw pulled up near Thoren only moments later. Thoren's mother and two sisters enlisted the help of Jayhawk, Benson and a group of soldiers to lift Thoren onto a long blanket and then to lift the blanket carrying Thoren onto the back of the cart and onto the straw.
Thoren's mother looked at her son. "He will need someone to ride with him in the back." She looked at her daughters seeing them both smiling and looking at Lysette. Acceptance. Thoren's mother knew what to say next. "Would you be so kind, Lysette, as to ride with him back to the Lodge? I think he would like to know you are with him."
"Yes, Mother... I mean, I mean, Oh! I'm so sorry, I..."
"That's quite all right, Lysette. I suspect I should begin getting used to it, don't you think?"
Lysette didn't know what to say. Her cheeks simply pinkened and she smiled nervously. Then she did as she was bid and climbed into the back of the cart riding with Thoren back to his family's lodge in Torvgold.
Meanwhile, Eme-Redser on R'daine disappeared into the edge of the south forest with her troup of elves around her and a very discouraged, miserable Ragnhild in tow, the old woman's final destiny unknown to all except the Elven Queen.