Free The Wadjet Eye by Jill Rubalcaba Page B

gray and spongy.
    "You'll need to get him to his family—quickly."
    "Can't anything be done?"
    "Just make him as comfortable as possible." Damon packed the maggots back into the fresh linen. "And travel with speed."

    The soldiers nodded grimly. Damon knew they had expected as much.
    He jumped out of the wagon. "See if you can get him to take some water."
    Damon crouched beside Artemas and slapped him lightly on the cheek. Artemas rolled his head from side to side, dazed. He looked at Damon as if he were having difficulty keeping him in focus. His eyes lost their dull look, then widened. He pulled back from Damon, staring horrified at Damon's shoulder.
    Damon tucked in his chin to see what Artemas was looking at, then flicked a maggot from his shoulder into the dirt. "Are you ready for some lunch?"
    "I'm not very hungry," Artemas answered weakly.
    "Then let's get back on the road." Damon felt a sense of urgency. What if his father were wounded like this man?

TWENTY-ONE
    They saw the smoke in the distance. Wagons piled with the dead and wounded clattered past them. At first Damon searched every soldier's face, looking for his father, but then there were too many. Now a steady stream of men flowed against them, the faces smudged with dirt.

    Damon looked down at his own spattered cloak. It was stiff with mud. His legs were caked with it. His face must look like those they passed—eyes too big and sunken from lack of sleep, staring out from a black mask. His horse stumbled on a stone. The roads built by Roman soldiers had ended days ago.
    Damon twisted from the waist to look back at Artemas. "We must be near."
    Artemas nodded, his face grim.
    Damon's aches were old from so many days on horseback. Some were so deep they were just memories of earlier pains. His hands were calloused from the abrasive rope reins. His buttocks were numb. He felt as if he had been beaten with a club.

    Artemas cupped a hand and hollered forward to Damon. "Look ahead. A standard."
    A pole rose from behind an outcropping far ahead. A banner tied to it flapped in the breeze. Damon could see only the colors, but he guessed it marked the hospital tent. They headed for it.
    Looking east, they were blinded by the sun as it rose over the top of the makeshift hospital tent. A canopy had been hastily erected, with curtains too light to keep out the weather, should it turn bad.
    Damon parted the curtains. Soldiers groaned. Every cot was filled. Many men lay on the floor. "Can we be of service?"
    A lone doctor stood over a patient. The apron tied over the doctor's tunic was spattered with blood. "Do you have a wagon?" he asked without more than glancing at them.
    "No, I'm afraid not," Damon answered.
    "The last of the wagons has left. Some of the more able are carrying the wounded here from the field. What we need is a wagon. They'll bleed to death out there." He tossed his head in the direction of the smoke. "If the enemy doesn't get them first."
    Damon threw off his cloak and dipped his hands in the basin. The mud turned the water black. "I can help. I'm a physician. No training in battle wounds, but if you show me what to do..."

    "There's fresh water just outside."
    Damon had forgotten about Artemas until he saw him just inside the entrance. He stood like some giant statue. But he stood. He hadn't fainted. "I can help carry the wounded to you," he said.
    "There's no wagon," Damon said.
    Til carry them, one at a time."
    Damon moved close to Artemas and whispered, so the doctor could not hear, "You can't do that."
    "Why not?"
    "Because if you faint, you'll be vulnerable. The enemy..."
    "I'll be fine. You help here. I'll help the others."
    "It's not dishonorable to be light-headed from the sight of blood. It's common."
    "I am not light-headed," Artemas insisted.
    "Fine. Thick-headed, then."
    Artemas left.
    Damon stared at the closed flap for just a moment, then followed outside to scrub off the mud.
    "What can I do?" Damon asked when he returned. He held