Free Defiant Swords (Durlindrath #2) by Robert Ryan

finished her examination and stood. She spoke to the
king, but her gaze strayed to the lòhren.
    “ He ’s near to death,” she said.
“Very near, though I can find no injuries. He may have had a stroke, but the
signs in his pulses don’t indicate that. My king, I don’t know what ails him.”
    Gilhain thought about that. Healers never admitted that they
did not know what was wrong. It was, he thought, her way of saying that not
only did she not know what was wrong, but that she knew of no treatment to keep him alive . That was something that must
be faced, and given the state of the siege, she knew he must prepare for it.
    She looked at the young lòhren. “I don’t know of any medical
cause for his collapse, but perhaps it has more to do with magic?”
    The lòhren gave a slight nod. “If it helps, I can tell you
this much. Likely , he expended too much power and exhausted
himself. To use lòhrengai takes a great mental effort – it’s hard
like physical work. And just as a man can work too hard and collapse, so it is
with lòhrengai. He has taxed his mind beyond its endurance. Worse, he does not
have his staff, which grounds his mind to this world. Now, it may roam other worlds, or other realms beside the physical.
It is caught out of time, neither here, nor really anywhere else, though I
cannot be sure of the latter.”
    “And how do lòhrens treat this?”
    The young man shook his head. “There’s no treatment. We’re
taught never to let it happen in the first place, unless we’re prepared to die.
I’ve never seen this before, but I’ve heard of it. He might live, or he might
die. There’s nothing to be done .” He paused, showing the first
sign of nerves. “I wish there were…”
    Arell thought for some moments before she addressed Gilhain
again.
    “I may be able to keep him alive for a while, at least his
body. That may give his spirit, if you believe in such things, time to return.”
    The young lòhren shook his head. “Without his spirit, the
body will wither and die swiftly. At least, so our lore of such things says.
Aranloth would know more…”
    There was a pause. The king eventually forced himself to ask
the question that he did not wish to ask.
    “ So nothing can be done to save him?”
    Arell did not speak. Nor the young lòhren. They had no
answers. In truth, Gilhain knew, not all questions had an answer. It was a
bitter truth of life.
    He dismissed the lòhren, who walked slowly back toward his white-robed
comrades. There was no one left but him and Arell.
    “Take him to the palace,” Gilhain said. “In you I trust, for
once you brought me back from the dead. But I’ll tell you the truth now. I
don’t expect any miracles from you – I know you’ll do everything you
can. If he dies, it won’t be through a lack of your trying. But know this: if
he does die, Cardoroth is unprotected. The elùgroths will be too strong
for us.”
    Arell looked him straight in the eye. “Can we not hold
against the enemy?”
    Gilhain returned her gaze. “You told me the truth about
Aranloth before. Now, I’ll tell you the truth about our situation. We cannot
hold for long against either the elùgroths or the horde. The rumors that you
have heard are true. We sent Brand on a quest. It’s the one true hope
for Cardoroth. If he fails, we will fall, sooner or later.  But know this, the
elùgroth lied. Brand is not dead; at least we don’t think so. And hope for
Cardoroth lives so long as he does.”
    Surprisingly, Arell laughed. “I never believed Brand was dead. Many in the city do, but not me. I know him. He’s hard to kill. If anyone can find a way to succeed
in whatever task you set him, it’s him.”
    She called for some soldiers and got them to lift up
Aranloth’s stretcher. Quickly she gave them instructions on where to go, and
she followed after them, a thoughtful but determined expression on her face.
    Aurellin came to the king’s side.
“Will he live?” she asked, straight to