"It's not the cut. It's the poison!" Brogan told them, his eyes conveying the dread he dared not utter. "She requires the skills of a healer. Now!" Celedhan who was nearby, was not deaf to his concern. He began shouting orders in elvish for aid to be administered to the injured. Dorain wasn't the only one to receive a spur-cut, and she and the other injured were brought with all speed to the Bridge Fortress to be treated.
Later, when all their hurts had been seen to, Anest and Lily visited Dorain in the infirmary. She was laying asleep and pale. There, at her bedside, was Brogan, holding her hand, his face as white as her own. But when Anest and Lily arrived, Dorain roused at the sound of Lily's voice and opened an eye in irritation. To Anest, she said, "Kindly this fool from my side before he falls over and dies on me!"
What? Looking at Brogan carefully for the first time, Anest realised the big man was favouring his right side. Examining him, Anest's eyes went wide. "You damned fool! Why didn't you say something?" Anest hooked Brogan's good arm over his shoulder and led the big man away in search of a healer. Lily stayed with Dorain awhile longer. They shared a secret smile as Lily took Dorain's hands, though Lily said with concern, "Are you in pain?"