* * * *
After what seemed like ages, although Castien knew from the slight light of the rising sun through the windows it had been only an hour at most, they had slain every one of their foes. The cost to their own troops left them with about half of what they had been when everyone had entered the room. Malcolm had finally defeated the mage he’d been fighting at no small cost to himself. He would need a healer but claimed he would survive until they were able to leave and get back to camp. Daeron insisted two of the least injured of his men take his father there immediately. Malcolm demurred until he started to collapse and Daeron had to catch him, then, under the care of the two fighters, he left.
Daeron looked around assessing the damage to his men and sent the worst of the wounded off with his father, after which he came over to Castien.
“There is still something more we have to do, you know.”
Castien nodded. “Find the Lord.”