[Amanaduial the archer]

Callath and Luc ran with some difficulty, hoisting the man along with them as around them the corsairs were rapidly losing in the skirmishes around them. Callath heard a blood curdling yell and saw one slip overboard on a patch of blood, but this was not as lucky as the stable-boy had been earlier, as a yell and a splash a moment later confirmed his untimely bath. Where the man had been a moment ago, Callath saw Calnan standing, his bow in one hand and a slight, triumphant grin on his face, and couldn't help smiling. But he didn't have time to congratulate his friend as Luc stamped on the trapdoor three times fast then kicked up open with the toe of one of his seaboots, and the began, very carefully but with as much speed as possible, to descend.

The dimness of the room beneath the deck was so contrasting to the brightness of outside that it took Callath a moment to adjust to it, in which he stubbed his toe sharply on some sort of box on the floor. A young voice exclaimed, "Hey, watch where you're going," but without much conviction. It surprised Callath though - who on the ship could be in possession of such a young voice? As his pupils grew wider and his sight returned, he saw a youth - well, a boy really - scurry around in front of Luc and take in the man's injuries without, it seemed, any real surprise. Indeed, the boy, who could not be more than thirteen or fourteen, seemed quite unshocked by what he was seeing, in a way that Callath found almost chilling, an impression that was beginning to extend to the whole room - there were at least three bloodiesd bodies lying around the room, and one of them was groaning. Looking away quickly, Callath saw the boy looking curiously at him, young brown eyes open and a studied expression on his face, but when Callath's green eyes met his brown ones, the boy looked away quickly, his gaze diverting itself to somewhere further off in the room. "Mr Sedal," he called.

A man straightened up from the side of a hammock which had obscured him from Callath's view before, and he hurried over. As Luc recited the man's injuries, what they knew of them, quickly, the stable boy took the oppurtunity to look with some surprise at the surgeon, who he hadn't yet had a chance to properly meet. He had seen him once or twice, drifting without much apparent purpose or steadiness on the deck, and at the Captain's table when he had chanced in there once, but this figure seemed rather different to that neatly turned out, pristine one, although the mildness of expression remained even amid the sweat glistening on his face, the blood smeared across his forehead, one cheek and his hands, and his rolled up sleeves, his shirt now dotted with various unidentifiable stains.

"Part of the deck fairly exploded when he stumbled near it - there are splinters in his forehead, right cheek and, I think, several in his right eye. The left eye doesn't seem too damaged by the splinters - the blood leaked over when his head lolled when we were carrying him-"

"Me head wasn't lollin' anyway, ye dog! I'm as alert as Avershire himself in battle!" Yulman protested furiously, jerking as he regained full conciousness for a moment.

"Mr Yulman, if you would remain quiet please, or I shall let these two young gentlemen loose on your eyes with a scalpel," the surgeon replied, his tone dry and mild. He intelligent eyes darted up to Callath as Luc started to continue again, and held up a hand at the older man, then nodded towards Yulman's legs. "As you have had the delight of carrying them, would you care to continue on this topic?"

Callath gaped for a moment but quickly regained his composure, not wanting to seem like a gawping idiot in front of this composed, well mannered and evidently intelligent gentleman. "Right leg has the splinters from the exploded deck embedded in it, as well as a long, possibly quite deep cut from knee to ankle-" Here Callath twitched the man's trouser leg, split down the side from above the knee, aside to reveal a long, deep cut. "I think it may be from a serated knife from the jagged edge along here," he added, pointing with one long finger down one side a few inches up from the man's ankle. "And the left leg is quite probably broken from the feel of it."

"Where?"

"At the knee, I reckon - every time I move it, the man...complains," Callath concluded. Sedal grinned very slightly and looked back down at Yulman. "Mr Yulman, have you been insulting this young man who had so kindly carried you down to me?"

"Aye, I have indeed, and would merrily do so again!" The seaman confirmed with fervour, then looked up at Callath upside down. "No offence to ye, of course."

"None taken," came the dry reply as Luc and Callath heaved the man onto the table for the surgeon to have a steadier look. Before he did so though, Sedal glanced at Callath's bloodied wrist, then met the boy's eyes over his half moon glasses. "You need help with that?"

Callath shook his head, exchanging a quick look with Luc. "The blood isn't mine."

The surgeon sighed slightly, shaking his head as if with regret, then said, "What's your name?"

"Callath Harres, Mr Sedal." His hand was enfolded in a hand with fingers even longer than his own, and Sedal held it for a moment, turning the boy's hand over to look at his fingers, before his gaze transferred itself to Callath's face once more, a studied expression on his handsome features as if he was examining him. After a second he let go and jerked his eyes up to the deck. "Go on then, bring my work to me," he said, his dry tone now becoming familiar. Callath bobbed his head and turned, with Luc, to take the steps two at a time up to the deck, pleased inwardly as he recalled the satisfaction he had seen in the surgeon's eyes.