Free Dangerous Talents by Frankie Robertson Page A

The one Sorn had saved her from. Cele looked away.
    “Better now?” Fender asked, his voice sounding oddly thick.
    She nodded, unable to speak. Only a few steps away, Dahleven knelt by Sorn while Ghav examined his wound.
    Sorn ! Cele stood and found her legs surprisingly steady. Moving to Dahleven’s side, she asked, “Can I help?”
    “Good, you’ve got your wits back.” Dahleven rose. His voice was rough and he had a bloody scrape on his neck and a pinched look in his eyes. “Yes, you can help.” He cleared his throat. “Ask Ghav what to do. We must move, and quickly, and it will be hard on Sorn. Ghav may have his hands full with all of us tonight; the Renegades sometimes foul their claws.”
    “And so saying, you should be cleaning that hide of yours,” Ghav said. “Come here, Lady Celia, and I’ll teach you the ways of tending a belly wound.”
    Dahleven took a step back, making room for Cele. He looked at Sorn a moment longer with a tight expression, then straightened and walked away.
    Sorn’s clothing was ripped and drenched with blood, more blood than she’d ever seen before. This was her fault. If she hadn’t shouted, Sorn wouldn’t have been distracted. He wouldn’t have been vulnerable. He wouldn’t have seen that third warrior, either . One of them would have killed him. Or her. But guilt and doubt still choked her.
    “Lady Celia?” Ghav’s voice jerked her attention back to the bloody scene before her.
    Self-recrimination wouldn’t help Sorn. Cele forced her thoughts into professional mode, wrapping herself in calm detachment. Her medical knowledge consisted of first aid training and what she’d learned from flipping through the medical flowcharts while on the phone with panicked callers. Nevertheless, she knew that the smell rising from Sorn’s wound meant his bowel had been perforated, and that was bad news. Very bad news. He needs surgery and antibiotics . She wanted a cell phone and a Medevac helicopter.
    “Lady Celia.” Sorn’s voice was tight with pain.
    “I’m here.” She knelt and took his hand, her professional detachment cracking. His touch released too many feelings.
    “You are…uninjured?” Sorn’s breath came out unevenly.
    “I’m fine.” Cele tried to keep her voice steady. “You saved my life.” Her feelings jumbled together. In only a short time, she’d started to rely on his kindness and humor. What would she do without him? No one had ever risked his life for her before. How dare he put that burden on her?
    She looked at Ghav. She couldn’t keep all of the accusation out of her voice. “He’s in so much pain! Can’t you do something?”
    The expression on Ghav’s weathered and lined face flickered at Cele’s tone, but he answered with a calm voice. “I’m blocking as much of his pain as I can, my lady. Beyond that, I can only use my knowledge and skill to help him.”
    Cele dropped her eyes and pressed her lips together. Ghav was doing his best, but that wasn’t the answer she wanted.
    “Sorn, I must hurt you more if I’m to help you at all.” Ghav bent over Sorn so he could look directly into his eyes. “Chew these leaves. They will dull the pain somewhat.” The Healer pulled three leaves from a small clay pot filled with oil and stuffed them into Sorn’s cheek. “Chew,” he commanded and waited to see his patient’s jaw begin to move before he continued by unrolling a leather pouch filled with obsidian knives, metal tongs and tweezers, what looked like finishing nails and twine, needles and thread.
    Ghav untied Sorn’s breeches and began to pull them away from the bloody gashes in his lower abdomen, then paused. “My lady, this will be an ugly business. I must clear his wound of clothing and I cannot pause for a lady’s delicate sensibilities.”
    What’s he more concerned about, my reaction to the wound or Sorn’s privates ? All she said was, “Get on with it.” Cele glanced at Sorn’s face. His breathing slowed a bit and his