Telesia was shouting beside Rodan.
“Y-You? This can’t be! R-Rodan, nooooo!!!”
Rodan had been brought home covered in blood on a makeshift stretcher made from poles and cloth. Telesia rushed to his side. Rodan lay motionless with his eyes closed. She screamed and sobbed, begging him to open his eyes and wake up. But Rodan didn’t stir.
“It’s all right, Telesia. We used medicinal herbs.”
“Huh? No, that can’t be…!”
Telesia looked at Gerda as if to ask why he was offering such empty reassurance. Rodan’s clothes were soaked black with blood, and his injuries hardly looked survivable.
“It’s true. We used a Mylase flower.”
“What? Huh? No, there’s no way we could afford something like that…”
It seemed to be medicine far beyond a serf’s means. As Gerda kept assuring her that it was true, they carefully carried the unconscious Rodan inside. They laid him in the bedroom he shared with Telesia. About twenty men had brought him home. It seemed they were all the serfs who had taken part in the hunt.
“Hey, Bess and Bodro, sorry, but go fetch some water.”...
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