Not much later Brass, Idana, and Aleot stepped into a large dining hall, now converted into a hospital. Once the servants, soldiers, and workers of the Grimmhold must have taken their meals here, now cots with wounded officers filled half the room. It already smelled of fever sweat, voided bowls, and blood, even though some bitter disinfectant agent did a good job of masking the telltale stench of war. The subdued moaning of drug-induced sleepers filled the air like some far away prayer quire, mangled minds trying to maintain a hold on equally mangled bodies. Brass knew that before the night came to its end, many more of those cots would find their occupants.

"This way please," the blond orderly indicated, guiding them toward the end of the hall were small niches had been erected simply by draping white linen cloths over thin ropes that stretched from wall to wall. They guided each of them into a separate niche, the physicians inside getting to work with the efficiency of years of practice. Too tired to protest, Brass endured as they helped him out of his clothes so that his doctor, a bald physician with a square grey beard, could tend to his wounds.

Cleaning, cutting, sewing, bandaging...

It was well-known, almost comforting routine.

"Here," said the physician, handing him a vial with a reddish liquid. "Drink this, it will dull the pain."

"I'll manage," Brass replied.

"Suit yourself. Can't say we'll have an unlimited supply of the stuff and the next boy up to lose his leg will certainly be thankful for it."

"That's why I don't want it," Brass muttered, then steadied himself for the inevitable pain. He had to grant it though, from all the butchers in white whose administrations he had to endure over the years, this one definitely knew his trade, might even be the best. He distracted Brass with small talk while setting to work, Brass idly wondering how he had managed to pick up the gravel the old boy removed from his back and dropped into a metal bowl with a small ping. As usual, the pure alcohol rubbed into his wounds was the worst, bringing with it white-hot and searing agony, but it to was familiar and Brass didn't even twitch.

Even the physician seemed impressed. "Tough one, aren't you? Don't shrug; I'm trying to work here. Tell me, how bad is it out there?"

"Bad," Brass replied. "Can't tell you much though. We've been on a 'special assignment' and only learned from the attack when it was already going strong. A kind of from the frying pan into the fire situation, if you know what I mean. Fled through the town on a wagon and there seemed battles everywhere: scores of undead and these blasted Bloodmaw leading them. Do you know how this whole mess started?"

"Well, I can't tell you exactly. I and my men have been amongst the first of King Groom's retinue that moved to the Grimhold and truth be told, I have a hard time believing what I have heard so far. We were still setting up everything as the first wounded suddenly came pouring in along with reports of an attack that occurred outside the city. They spoke of thousands of undead stumbling in from the Saltbone Marshes, not only zombies, mind you, but other abominations as well: towering monstrosities, the smallest twice the height of a man, with rusted weapons mowing down any soldier that stood in their way. Raise your arm; I need to sew that cut there..."

"Anything else?"

The physician snorted. "As a matter of fact, yes. As you can imagine, that alone would have been hard to believe but the reports also spoke of a giant that came from the swamp that cut off the road through the Marshes."

Brass frowned at that. "A giant?"

"Aye, but not the ordinary kind – if you can call any kind ordinary. They said it was as tall as ten men, made from hundreds of corpses, and carried a scythe made from the trunk of a tree, the weapon's blade fashioned from the honed down wing of a huge metal gate no smaller than the one barring the entrance to the Golden Holt. Now stop looking at me like that. I'm not lying; you can ask any man in this room. Rot, just listen to their screams, boy."

"Ok, let's say that I believe you," Brass said. "What happened then?"

"What do you think? They retreated as fast as their legs and horses would carry them. Praised be the gods that King Goorm and those who were wise enough to listen to his council had the foresight to move into the city proper and claim the Golden Holt. Otherwise, we'd probably be dead before the morrow."

Brass nodded, digesting the information. If what the physician said was true – and considering what happened in the Ravenhold he was inclined to do so – then they were in deep shit this time. The Golden Holt may be easily defendable but with the road through the Marshes lost, they were little more than prisoners now beset by thousands of enemies on all sides.

He shook his head. Within a few hours, the grand crusade had turned into a damn siege...

"Get out of your undergarments," the physician said. "That cut on your hip needs stitching."

Lost in his contemplations, Brass followed the order without a second thought and was still pondering their situation as somebody pulled the curtains to his compartment aside with dramatic flourish. Echser, now wearing a much too short white linen garment showing off disturbingly thin, pale legs stood there, a stupid grin on his face. "Found him!" he barked over his shoulder.

"Echser, what the—"

Brass eyes bulged and he almost choked on his tongue as Idana, wearing a garment similar to the alchemist's, came into view. She froze instantly, eyes and mouth going wide as she saw Brass in all his naked glory. Without so much as a thought, Brass grabbed the one thing closest to him to veil his nudity: the orderly to his right. The young man gawked but was too shocked to do anything else. Holding him by the arms, Brass pushed him in front like a shield. The physician and the other orderly stumbled back with a mix of surprise and amusement on their faces.

Idana giggled and averted her gaze.

What the hell! screamed a shrill voice in Brass head. Why is she giggling!?

"Hmmm. Interesting," murmured Echser narrowing his eyes to slits. "He's built like a bull, has its brains, but apparently..."

"Shut up before I cram this guy down your throat!" Brass roared. The boy in his grip whimpered.

"Ahh, and there we have the bull's famous temper," Echser added.

"That's it!" Brass grabbed the orderly by the neck with one hand and by the belt with the other, lifted him from the ground and marched toward the alchemist.

Echser turned tail and ran, yelling "Help!" and "Bull on the loose!"

Idana was laughing so hard she had to clutch her belly. "Ahh, stop it, Brass. I'm ripping my stitches."

Brass stopped and put down the orderly who was as ashen as his coat, yet still used him as a shield to cover his nudity. "Uhm, are you all right? You seem strangely... happy," he said, forcing himself to sound calm, sweat pouring down his red face.

"They gave us some red stuff to drink. It helps with the pain, but," she shook her head, giggling. "It makes you all funny." She giggled again.

"I... I take it you are done then?"

Idana nodded. "We are." She glanced at him, giggling again as she saw how desperately he tried to hold the orderly between him and her. Not even Brass knew why. He was not the prude type, but it was cold in here and he felt the terrible need to explain that fact to her.

"They are still tending to Draemaugh. He's lying right over there. Can you keep an eye on him, Echser I will go find some food and should be right back?"

"Sure."

"Do you want anything specific?"

"I'm good with anything," Brass rumbled. Anything to get you out of here! His head was on fire. Idana nodded with a grin – she was enjoying this way too much – then turned, but stopped and quickly glanced over her shoulder.

Was that... Did she just try to steal a peek?

She gave him a smile, turned and left.

What the hell was that smile about!? the shrill voice in his head screamed even louder.

The choking of the orderly brought him back in the here and now. He let go of the man, who stumbled away, looking at him with wide, terrified eyes. Brass murmured "Sorry", then turned around and stared at the other orderly and the doctor. They both had a sheepish grin on their faces.

"Oh grow up," Brass grumbled, stomping back.

*************************

Greetings everyone. 

I hope you liked that last update, if you do, pls vote and comment.

CU all in a week.

M.