The sudden ending of my guard-duty, and the headache from the battle wound I incurred was very hard for me to endure, but I bore it as well as I could. If this incident had not happened to me yesterday, I would have failed to mention an important person of our group, Laurelindo the Healer-apprentice. I call him by that title, as that is what he calls himself. He is familiar with healing herbs, and the binding up of wounds, and all manner of other ailments, and is often wandering off to gather plants, which is to be expected, I suppose, when there is such great need of his herb-lore.
When Lord Estarfin and I returned to camp, Laurelindo was there to kindly attend to us, without the least hesitation. And as well as he might, he treated Lord Estarfin's wounds, though the proud warrior did not like to submit himself to his care, much to Laurelindo's frustration. This healer-apprentice has not treated many patients, but has been well-provided with them during our journey, although I am not certain they, or their injuries, are to his tastes. I am in hopes that during our journey, he has received useful education with which to better his craft, and so reduce his ignorance of maladies. He has complained that we do not listen to his advice, and do exactly the opposite of what he tells us, so that it is no wonder that our injuries are slow to heal. This cannot be true, at least in my case; I certainly have given him great opportunity to prove his ability, and have treated him all along with proper deference, and I always listen to his counsel, and follow his instructions to the letter, so the fault cannot lay on my side. Although now I wonder if he is duly qualified to treat serious wounds, if he is only an apprentice, and these may be beyond his skills. We have seen how he made a wrong estimation of my hurts, when I was pricked full of orc-arrows, and he did not notice the signs of poison, not until the bloody froth was pouring out of my nose and mouth, so that I was near choking on my own vomit. Well, I survived to tell the tale, and that is the important thing; and I would rather have Laurelindo with us, than not.
When I awoke, Lord Veryacano was returned, and he told us news of a very good camp he found, which would provide better shelter than the sparse canopy of trees. After breakfasting on roast hare, we set out to meet the rest of our companions, who left at some point during the night, as I was resting. Why the Lord Estarfin left with them, I know not, but Laurelindo said he must not have been very injured after all, and seemed annoyed that he had departed in the night without a word, but I told him that Lord Estarfin was full of mysteries, and it was best to leave him be, and not pester him with questions, because an irritated warrior makes for a bad traveling companion.
Only four of us remained in camp, and we set out at once. Lord Veryacano led us to a cold, clear river: I am not certain what it is called, but it may be part of that which is called the Entwash. Strangely enough, our lordship thought it a good day for fishing, and so we loitered by the riverbank, watching him cast his line out time and time again, cursing and catching nothing but some slimy river-weeds and a small, bony bitterling, which he threw back in the water. At last, he determined it was high time we set out in earnest, and led us at a swift pace over a ridge, where we beheld a burned-up farmstead. This was our new shelter, Lord Veryacano declared, and greatly astonished, I followed along at his heels, protesting at the inadequacies of the place, which was still on fire! Methinks the mighty Hammer-lord has, from grief at his failing to find our Lord Anglachelm, fallen into a desperate sort of stupid folly, and I wished with all my heart that the Lord Tindir had not deemed it a good time to go off on his own scouting venture.
At this smoking ruin, we discovered a man lying bleeding on the ground inside a stables. It was obvious that he was gasping his last, and as Laurelindo was bending over him to see if anything could be done, he drew a final breath and died. Telpenaro asked, since we were going to camp in this dreadful place, if we should clear it of corpses, and Laurelindo said that we should set them alight, so that warg would not be attracted. I suggested that we drop them off the cliff into the river, and then they would float away, and not be much trouble. But Lord Veryacano said they might have families who would wonder where they disappeared. I was mightily surprised by this, and replied, They should not wonder - they should know. If their people never saw their Men-folk again, and once they ventured up to the remains of the burnt-up farmstead, they would know immediately that all were slain - that is, if these Men were not fools. But I believe Lord Veryacano misunderstood me, because he began speaking of respecting the men who died defending their land, and leaving grave-markers for their people, although we knew none of their names; and he decided that we would bury the dead, as we had time on our hands as we waited for Lord Tindir and his group to find us.
Ambassadors do not make very good grave-diggers, and I told Lord Veryacano that I was unused to hard labour. He patted me on the back, I thought in sympathy, but then said I had best get used to it, and that I would be digging graves for the horses too, before handing me a shovel and departing. I thought I would be digging graves all the night long with that tiny pack-shovel! Nevertheless, I diligently set to work, and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug, until the sweat was pouring off me, and the blood was pounding in my brain, and set it to aching again. But I was not going to cease digging, lest Lord Veryacano returned, and be wroth with my idleness, though the task hardly seemed worthwhile. And then - I am not certain what happened next; one moment I was digging, and then the next I was lying prostrate on the pile of shoveled earth. Laurelindo was talking urgently to me, and his voice sounded very far away, and it was hard to focus with the shooting pains in my head, as if it were being beaten with a brick from the inside. And twisting ‘round, I saw that the hole I dug was very small, and I imagined trying to bury one of the Horse-men in it, and thought, As it is not wide enough, we will have to jam him down feet-first, but then his head will stick out, so we will lift him out, and then jam him down the other way - but then his feet will stick out! - which, of course, is sheer nonsensical thinking, a product of my overheated brain, and I am glad I did not mention this fancy to Laurelindo. As it was, he told me to lie still, and he gave me more of that bitter root to chew on, to dull the head-ache, and said he would dig the graves for me. I bid him wake me, when he saw Lord Veryacano returning from his patrol, and I would start digging again.
