Once Carmen was placated, she went and began to write a list of what patients she hadn’t been able to heal and had been instead focusing on treating and reducing their pain before tearing it up.

  “I’ll just take you to them myself. If we go to meet them then I won’t have any appointments to make anyway.”

  With that they all found themselves falling in line behind Carmen. They walked out of the infirmary and toward the edge of the Hollow where the sounds of swords hitting targets began to ring out. Michael remembered those sounds well from his time in Stent and when the training ground came into view he felt an odd tinge of nostalgia. This was odd, as his time training in Stent was the darkest period of time in his life. In spite of that he remembered the fierce grins of Davi and Pyotr as they trained against one another, the cunning smirk on Marcus’s face as he revealed the hooch he’d made, and the casual ease with which Ollie would knock back the other mages in their duels.

  The training grounds in Greathollow were similar to those of Stent with a few small differences. First off, the average age of the trainees seemed a bit higher. More boys closer to eighteen or nineteen rather than fifteen and sixteen. There were also more co-trainings between the regular troops and the knights, with the squires being marked by a different kit, but seeming to be doing much of the same conditioning as the regulars. There didn’t seem to be any horses or mounted training in this area, so Michael presumed they had a separate training area for that as mounted combat seemed to be foundational to Old Hume knighthood from what he’d seen so far.

  They approached a man who was standing with a lot of weight on his cane watching two young men spar. He was young, late-twenties at the latest, and had sandy brown hair and green eyes. He had the body of a warrior, but clearly there had been some damage to his right knee which seemed unable to fully hold his weight.

  “Stop!” he yelled at them as their swords were about to collide.

  They managed to cease their movement at great effort and the man stepped toward them. He smacked one in the gut with his cane.

  “Your body is twisting for the strike without bringing the rest of you with it. You’ll need that power you're losing.” He looked at the other and smacked his wrist with the cane. “You can get a lot more power by flicking your wrist downward as you swing your arm. The speed that gives you can be the difference between life and death. Understood?” he asked.

  “Yes sir!” said the squires in unison.

  He nodded and moved back to the edge of their circle and clacked the tip of his cane on a nearby stone.

  “Reset and start again.”

  Carmen led them the rest of the way to the man, and he frowned and adjusted how he was holding himself with his cane as he noticed her.

  “Too late Regis. I saw you walking and holding your weight incorrectly already. I have told you a dozen times that you’re going to make your shoulders just as bad as your knee if you keep moving that way.”

  “It’s just what comes naturally, Carm. Besides, who gives a damn about my shoulders? My whole body can give up on me and I’ll still be able to shout these kids into line.”

  He looked at Michael, Ollie, and Lance, saluting at Lance as he did so.

  “Knight-Sergeant,” he said.

  “At ease,” replied Lance.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “Did you need me for something? Are these two fresh recruits? They’re a bit old, but I think I’d be able to whip them into shape.”

  Michael smiled. Sometimes he forgot how young he still was in his body. He looked to be in his early twenties still and the long blonde hair that was growing wild made him look even younger.

  Lance went to answer, but Carmen beat him to it, pointing at Michael.

  “This one is a healer. He was ordered to help any men that would still be front-line ready if not for their injuries.”

  The man raised an eyebrow. “You told me the best I could hope for was to manage the pain and keep being able to walk. Even your healing only eased the pain.”

  “He’s,” she gritted her teeth a bit, “exceptional. He may be able to help more than me and my treatments.”

  Regis frowned, but nodded before turning his attention back to his squires who were wailing at one another with their practice swords.

  “Squires! Break for water!”

  They stopped suddenly and turned toward Regis. They gave him a short bow before jogging lightly to a barrel around which a few other soldiers, squires, and knights were gathered to water themselves. After that Regis took a few steps toward a wooden bench and sat down.

  Michael took a few steps toward him, and Regis looked at him with intensity in his eyes.

  “You think you can help with this?” he asked.

  “Yes. I do.”

  “Please give me an excuse to break this cane.”

  He nodded, and began to focus, bringing the golden glow to his hand and placing it directly on Regis’s knee where he could feel the intensity of the old wound. It seemed as if his knee had been both shattered and sliced through. There was evidence of healing, both natural and divine, on the wound which seemed to have healed it enough to allow him to keep some of his mobility. In the past when he’d tried to heal old injuries like this he’d been able to fix them in some minor ways, but not completely heal them. They were too old, and had ‘healed’ already. This time it felt different though.

  Michael pushed divine energy through his hand into Regis’s knee, feeling every tear and malformation and he tightened his will around all of it, infusing it with all of the healing power he could muster. Healing a wound like this felt almost like closing a rift. The squeezing of his will around it, as if he was grasping at its edges. He closed his will and after a single blinding burst of light he removed his hand from the man’s knee.

  Regis frowned and placed his own hand on the knee. He swung his leg forward, then let it fall down, his eyes widening as he did so. Then he pushed himself up and gradually put weight on it. He took a few steps, then a few more. His gait was a little off, but he didn’t seem to be in any pain, and he was smiling.

  “It still feels a bit off, but this is incredible.”

  “Your leg has atrophied a bit,” said Carmen, frowning as she examined him walking. “But if you gradually exercise it you should get most of your motion back.”

  Regis walked over to Michael and surprised him by wrapping him in a hug, his arms not quite making it around his full plate.

  “Thank you for this,” he said.

  “You’re welcome. I’m just glad I could help.”

  Regis released him and walked over to where he’d left his cane. He moved over to a large stone and with impressive strength that must’ve been born of titles and deeds, he smashed it in half.

  “Seems like kind of a waste,” muttered Ollie. “I’m sure there’s an old timer somewhere that might’ve appreciated a good cane. Like you Michael.”

  “Ha,” he replied dryly.

  After Regis, Carmen walked Michael to more than a dozen others. A woman that had taken a bullet to the shoulder, a man that had taken a spear through the hip, a squire that had been paralyzed after being thrown from his horse. Most would still need some form of rehabilitation, but all of them would be able to make a return to the battlefield, a prospect which seemed to unburden all of them in some way.

  Once they were done, Michael took a moment to pray.

  “I thank the divine for giving me the opportunity to give hope back to these people,” he said, feeling the warmth of their presence settle more firmly on his shoulders as he did so.

  “Well, with the rehab they’ll all still need I won’t be out of the job quite yet,” said Carmen. “Unless you also happen to have some kind of spell or blessing that can magically walk people through physical therapy.”

  “Well, now that you mention it-”

  Carmen’s expression became withering.

  “I don’t. I’m glad I was able to help them though. I could tell from the healing that all of them were strong. They’ll be a big help on the battlefield.”

  “We should return to the Captain and see if he has additional orders,” said Lance.

  “I believe we already got orders,” said Ollie with a smile. “We’re meant to have a pint or three.”

  “I don’t think he was entirely serious,” said Lance.

  “I know real orders when I hear them,” said Michael with a smile patting Lance on the back. “Lead the way.”