Emergency Services (2/4)

Writers: Aaron, Estelle
Date Posted: 30th March 2019

Characters: Brennault, Lorican
Description: Brennault gets Lorican to the waystation, and the runners send to the weyr for help.
Location: Elsewhere on Pern
Date: month 9, day 21 of Turn 9

Brennault

***

By the time they came within sight of the waystation, Lorican was
parched with thirst and ready to drop from exhaustion and pain. He was
just about awake, but could barely keep moving and if it hadn't been for
the runner supporting him, he would have collapsed. The journey seemed
to have lasted forever, and in the last mile his mind had started to
drift, only barely concentrating on Brennault's tales of the Weyr.

"Here we are," said Brennault. "It's just a little bit further. Look,
see? They can see we're coming."

A few moments later, the runner who had spotted them was running out to
meet them.

"What happened!?" he asked, barely winded after the sprint.

"A bandit. I found him out a ways. Get Cerault. Tell him we need a
healer as fast as he can get us one, and find whoever's about to come
help me carry him in. Bring some water."

And then the runner sprinted back.

"Alright, you'll be able to rest in no time."

Lorican nodded, unable to speak, and they managed a few more steps
towards the station before another runner returned with two bottles of
water. He offered one to Brennault, then opened the other and helped the
smith to drink, tilting it carefully so he couldn't take too much and
choke himself. "Slowly..."

"They're going to bring a stretcher," he said to Brennault. "I can stay
with him, if you want to go on ahead and report?"

"Thanks. I'm headed up to see who's at the station," said Brennault to
Lorican, hoping to reassure him. "You're with friends now. There's
usually a healer here, but we might have to get you to the weyr. I don't
know if he can handle this here or not." Or if he could handle it all.
Typically, the healer that stayed at the station was mostly there to
give first aid and get someone stabilized to be moved to a proper
infirmary if necessary.

"I'll see you soon," he promised and then jogged off to the station. He
waved as he passed the pair with the stretcher on the way out and then
bounded up the stairs and inside.

"There you are," said Cerault as Brennault rushed inside, nearly bowling
him over. "What's all this I'm hearing?"

"Sorry, Dad," Brennault apologized. "I found a smith on the road.
Probably beaten up by a brigand or something. Lost his runnerbeast and
his wares. He's in a bad way, head injury, dehydrated..."

"Alright, alright. I'll send word to the weyr that we'll probably need
to send him there," said Cerault. At least one of the residents had a
firelizard for times just such as this. And after this, there was no way
Brennault would not be finding a way to get his hands on one of his own.

"And you go tell Gredran he's got a patient on the way for the time being."

Brennault nodded and then jogged in toward the little room that served
as the station's infirmary.

"Oy, Gredran!" he called, as the healer was likely nearby but not
actually in the infirmary itself. "You've got one coming in from the
road, head injury!"

The healer, a lanky dark-haired journeyman with the tanned and weathered
complexion that came from Turns on the road, had been sitting outside
the back door drinking klah, but as soon as he heard the words 'head
injury' he was immediately alert. Abandoning his drink, he came in to
the infirmary and collected a cloth and materials to clean the wound.
"Brennault, what happened? Who is it?"

"Smith by the name of Lorican," said Brennault. "Looks like he was
jumped by some highwaymen out on the way to the Weyr. He doesn't
remember what happened, but his runnerbeast and wares are gone, and
there's a great big lump on his head. Couple of guys are getting him on
a stretcher to bring him in." Brennault wondered how many times he was
going to have to retell the story before the day was done.

"He doesn't remember?" The healer frowned, as worried by that as
Brennault had been. "Is he conscious?" He specialised in the type of
injuries common to runners - muscle aches and strains - and could deal
with other minor problems, but this sounded beyond his expertise.

"He wasn't when I found him, but he is now. Or was, when I left him to
come get you," said Brennault. He was glad he had done his best to keep
him conscious, not just for making it easier to haul him in. "I think
Cerault is sending a firelizard to the weyr to ask for help getting him
there," he added.

"Good. Of course, I haven't seen the injury, but if he's been knocked
out for any time I'd like to get the Weyr healers to look at him. I know
you'll be wanting to rest and clean up, but can you stick around, and
talk to him until they get here?" Gredran asked. "I'd like him kept
awake if we can manage it, and a familiar face might help."

"Don't worry," said Brennault. "I'm not going anywhere until I know he's
going to be alright. Well. As much as I can know that, anyway."

The smith arrived on the stretcher moments later, and Brennault backed
up against the wall, trying to get out of the way.

"Thanks, boys," said Cerault, dismissing the runners who had helped
carry him in as he came in behind him. "We'll have you patched up and on
the way to the weyr infirmary quick as the wind blows," he said to
Lorican. The little beastie carried our message true, alright. So
someone ought to be on the way to fly you in real soon."

"Thank you." Lorican sounded as though he'd revived a little on drinking
the water, and was able to sit up so that the runners could assist him
to the examination table while Gredran washed his hands and brought over
a basin of hot water.

"I'm going to take a look at you, and clean you up as best I can, but
it'll be best to get you to the infirmary as soon as possible," Gredran
explained calmly. The smith's left temple was matted with dried blood,
which had soaked into his hair and streaked the side of his face which
was swollen with bruises. This looked like the worst injury, but his
movements suggested to the healer that he'd taken some damage to his
ribs and side as well.

He dipped a cloth in the water and carefully began to clean away the
blood and dirt from the side of Lorican's head. "Tell me if you feel any
sharp pain. Yes, this was definitely a nasty blow." He glanced at
Cerault, the worry in his eyes at odds with his even tone. Attacks on
the road were ill news, but especially so for runners.

Cerault returned the glance and nodded, his arms folded. Brennault
assumed he was already pondering his next steps. How to catch whoever
did this. How to protect his runners in the mean time. If they had to
run two-by-two, it would slow everything down. And if they had to run
checkpoints, the manpower would have to come from somewhere.

"We'll get this all figured out," Cerault said confidently. "Don't you
worry none."

Brennault would do his best, but he knew his father would be doing
enough worrying for all of them.

Last updated on the April 4th 2019

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Emergency Services (2/4)