Falcon flinched as the clap of thunder ripped through the battlefield, the movement sending a twinge of pain through his wounded stomach. His hand still gripped the useless axe at his side when the ogres fell and Sebastian collapsed across Falcon’s body. As the last rumble faded to unearthly silence, Falcon prayed with real fear blossoming in his heart that the end of Sebastian’s vision was not of him escorting the young priest into the afterlife.

  Confident that the ogres were not the pressing threat now, he released the axe and laid his hand on Sebastian’s back. The steady movements were of a man in deep sleep after a hard won fight, not of a man taking the last shaky breaths at the end of life. Falcon blew out a slow breath of his own and dropped his head back to the cobblestone wearily. The pain across his stomach was almost worse now than it had been when he’d been injured and the weariness of battle and blood loss made it difficult for him to care much about portents and visions. They were both alive and the hospital was saved. It was enough for now.

  A rough blow to his arm woke him again.

  “Oh, good, you’re not dead.” One of the other knights nudged him again with the toe of his boot and called to someone outside Falcon’s line of vision. “I think they’re both alive, but Sir Peregrine is hurt and—” He frowned at Sebastian and crouched beside them. “Is he sleeping?”

  “You call judgment from heaven sometime and see how you feel after.” Falcon grunted in pain as he tried unsuccessfully to sit up and roll Sebastian off him. He lay back with a gasp of pain. He wasn’t dying–for which he owed the young priest a life debt he would not soon be able to pay–but Sebastian’s interrupted healing was going to be a real handicap for a while. “Get him off me and into the hospital before the ogres come back.”

  “There are no more ogres. Whatever he did killed every ogre, cursed beast, and treacherous human within reach of the city.” The knight crossed himself and poked Sebastian’s arm tentatively. “The knights want you to move him. They’re afraid he’s going to kill them next.”

  “Superstitious old hags.” Falcon’s grunt turned to a roar as he rolled out from under Sebastian’s weight. He lay, panting, on his elbows with his forehead resting on the cobblestone, trying to neither pass out or vomit from the pain. “God killed the ogres.”

  “You think it somehow makes it better that your young priest commands God?” The knight crossed himself again and backed away from them.

  Falcon swore softly. “Go get Father Mattias and a couple of the acolytes, then. I’ll be lucky to make it into the hospital on my own.”

  The knight ran off, leaving Falcon to decide he’d rather not move anymore until the hospitaller brought someone who would actually help. He lifted his head to survey the fallout from the battle. It wasn’t that he disbelieved the other knight–Sebastian calling down a curse that wiped out the entire enemy force would certainly explain that “shadow of death” part of his vision–it was more that he wanted to see it with his own eyes. Bodies littered the streets, with no sign of movement or lingering life. Awed townsfolk moved among the bodies, seeking human survivors and looting the bodies of the ogres. They gave him and Sebastian a wide berth, however, likely as afraid as the knights had been.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Falcon looked over at Sebastian with a frown. The pacifistic priest was not going to take bringing down the death of the whole army of ogres lightly, and the suspicion and fear of the townsfolk would only make things worse.

  Then there was still the end of the young seer’s vision to consider. Given the fear displayed by nearly everyone so far, being run out of town by a superstitious mob seemed as good an explanation as any.

  As carefully as possible, Falcon eased himself into a seated position facing the still sleeping form of the young priest. As unlikely as it was that someone might be bold enough to try to harm the seer that called death from heaven, Sebastian was in no condition to defend himself. Not that he’d be eager to do so if he were conscious. Falcon edged closer to Sebastian and pulled the axe into his lap as he rested one hand protectively on the young priest’s back. Falcon was certain the toll of healing his mortal wound was at least a factor in the healer’s condition, so he reasoned that he owed him that much.

  Father Mattias approached from the hospital followed by three nervous looking acolytes. Apparently, news traveled fast. The three boys stared wide-eyed at the carnage and froze ten feet from Sebastian and Falcon, but Father Mattias’s focus was just on Sebastian.

  “Is he hurt?” Father Mattias knelt beside Sebastian and carefully rolled him onto his back. Alarm flashed across his face at the dramatic amount of blood soaking Sebastian’s cassock.

  “I’m pretty sure most of that’s mine.” Falcon gestured to his own stained and torn clothing. “He was healing a rather complicated wound when the ogres decided a healer in priests’ robes looked like an easy target.”

  Father Mattias gave Falcon an evaluating look. “Stephen will help you inside, and we can see what we can do to assist the continued healing of your wounds.”

  “That’s great, but I’m more concerned about Sebastian right now.” Falcon waved off an acolyte that seemed in a hurry to help him before Father Mattias ordered the acolyte to help Sebastian.

  “As long as he’s uninjured, this is actually normal. He slept for thirty-six hours the night you were first brought here, and I suspect his gift was more heavily taxed today.” Father Mattias paused to assist two of the acolytes with rolling Sebastian gently onto a stretcher so they could carry him inside.

  “That’s good to know, I guess.” Falcon leaned heavily on the acolyte at his side and groaned as he stood. Mostly stood. He pressed a hand against his side and prayed he didn’t tear open whatever healing Sebastian had done before he passed out. He doubted even Father Mattias could “assist” the replacement of spilled bowels. Falcon forced a steady breath through his nose, and lowered his voice. “There’s still the rest of his vision to consider, and I’m not excited about how people are responding to what they should be hailing as a miracle.”

  “All the more reason to get you two inside and out of public scrutiny, at least until Sebastian is on his feet and can finish healing you.” Father Mattias quirked an eyebrow at Falcon. “And perhaps you can help me understand exactly what this miracle was. I fear it is already getting exaggerated.”

  “I’m not sure how it could be exaggerated. What happened was dramatic enough.” The fact that Falcon was alive was miracle enough. As far as he was concerned, if someone could be canonized while they were still alive, Sebastian would be the perfect candidate.

  Father Mattias gave him a worried look. “We’ll continue this inside, Sir Peregrine. I fear I may know the meaning of the rest of the vision.”

  Falcon had a pretty good idea what his part of it was going to be as well. With the Knights of the North Star proved false and shamed, his vow to them seemed moot and he frankly owed Sebastian his life at least twice over. “I’ll do whatever is necessary to help, Father.”

  “Perhaps you should understand exactly what that will be before you make a vow you may regret later.” Father Mattias nodded to the acolytes carrying Sebastian. “Let’s get you both comfortable and we can discuss that further."