Legend of The Young Master

Chapter 222: Healing

A very large boat landed against the Bridge Fort's dock; the warriors were alert and manned the walls. Wuyi was waiting on the dock. There were warriors and crossbowmen in the boat, but what caught his attention was that the boat was full of women. He could feel that these graceful ladies had cultivated, each more beautiful than the last.

When he expected that the king would send some people to support them, it wasn't what he expected at all.

One woman—short and harried—stood on the foredeck. "I need a healer," she said. "A good one."

Wuyi turned to Jia. "Get me a warrior of the Lotus Order," he said. Then he turned back. "They are superb healers." Unfortunately, they had gone on a raid to clear the trench at dawn, and they hadn't returned.

"I know," she spat. "How long?"

"A few minutes," he said, hopefully.

"She doesn't have a few minutes," the woman said, her face cracking. She seemed to clamp down on a sob. "She's lost a great deal of blood."

"Who has?" he asked as he tried to get a leg over the boat. A dozen oarsmen reached to pull him into the boat.

"The Princess," she said. "I'm Lady Ronghua. Her subordinate. This is Lady Qianru, chief among her ladies."

The Princess.

Wuyi ignored the people gathered around the figure on the deck. The woman lying on the deck was losing blood at a tremendous rate. He could feel it.

"How did this happen?" he asked.

"The escaping demonic men attacked," one of the ladies answered.

Her injuries were severe, but he couldn't do much. He had very little Qi, at least in terms of power. What he had, he'd squandered fighting Swamplings.

So much blood.

She was young—a Qi warrior herself.

In that moment, she was defenseless—wide open, trying to use her Qi to strengthen herself. If he wanted, he could take her consciousness and make her his loyal subordinate, but he decided against it.

He put a hand on her back.

"Well?" Lady Ronghua asked, impatient. "Can you help?"

Wuyi thought. He took a clean white cloth out and pushed it into the wound. He put one finger on the cloth as it turned from white to brilliant scarlet.

He suddenly realized. His consciousness was linked to a legion of healers in the fort. It was easy to forget that.

In his consciousness, he reached out.

"Liwei?" he asked.

She was there. "Hello!" she said. She took his hand in ethereal conscious space, smiled—and let his hand drop.

"I need to heal someone." He wished—

"Show me," Liwei said briskly.

He connected with her and then he took Liwei's hand and laid it on the Princess.

She pointed—through her—in a mind-wrenching moment, he was on her consciousness bridge, using her surging river even as he stood collecting Qi he felt weak. He was exhausted from battle, and her body was not strong. She had been healing warriors all day and night, so the Qi they collected,It wasn't enough.

Liwei shook her head. "I have nothing to give," she said. He looked up at her, and even in the ethereal realm, her exhaustion was obvious. "So many wounded," she said.

Sighing for the loss, he rotated the statue of light, using some Qi energy the statue had been given when he raided the Swamplings a few times and stole energy from them. Adding energy of Liwei.He decided to use the chamber to amplify the power.

He had never tried using the statue of light and the chamber to amplify the healing, but the power of healing magnified.

A white mist crossed princess's back from her spine to the top of one leg and around to her hip, right across the kidney. A flake of grey-white ash fell away from it. Wuyi fell back away from her.

The Princess gave a squeak, then sighed, as if stroked by her lover, and then gave a low moan. Lady Ronghua clasped her hands together. "Oh, by the power of heavens! That was brilliant!"

Wuyi shook his head. "That wasn't me," he admitted. "Or not just me." His voice was a croak. The Princess's wound began to bleed again. They bandaged it tightly, being careful of the wound which still seemed to be open.

Wuyi shook his head. "But I just healed you," he said in frustration.

"I feel the pain less," the Princess said bravely. "It was well done, Warrior."

A giant warrior who was with the group threw his cloak over the Princess. "We need to get her ashore."

Wuyi shook his head. "I wouldn't. That castle is the lynchpin of the battle, and I've been holding it all night. I wouldn't risk the Princess of Tianqin in it."

But other boats were pulling up against the pilings of the bridge, anchoring or tying up, their crossbowmen engaging the Swamplings on the north bank. The bolder boatmen were pulling under the bridge, through the narrows, to further outflank the enemy in the meadows north of the river.

"I have twenty brave men to add to your warrior group," the large warrior said.

"I'd rather have all those nice crossbowmen," Wuyi said. He smiled to take any apparent sting from his remark. "Very well. Land the Princess. Don't mind the Swampling guts—we haven't had time to tidy up."

He rose from the deck, almost unable to walk. He clambered back over the side to the dock and managed to give the required orders.

He collapsed onto the side. He was aware that the large warrior who told him he was called Haoran was standing with him, talking, but he hadn't slept, hadn't recovered any Qi, and he'd just used some remaining energy to heal the Princess. He pulled the armguards off his hands and raised them to the sun.

As the sun licked his hands, he felt a trickle of power through his arms. The headache receded. He heard some noise, men calling him.

"Those are Royal Guardsmen," Haoran shouted, pointing to the south across the river, and back east of the bridge. "I know them."

"Horses," Wuyi said to Jia. "A war horse for you, another for me, and a mount for Haoran. Shen, you are in command until I return. Send to the fortress for a healer. Tell them that the Princess of Tianqin is dying." He was hard-pressed to leave her. It wasn't his way to turn his back on a project.

He had a new reserve of power, but she needed a fine, trained hand. And he needed to have something left for the fight.

They carried her past him. "Sigh," he muttered to himself. He reached out and put a hand on her naked shoulder. He gave her all the power he had—everything that he had taken through Liwei l, and all he had taken from the sun.

He sagged away from her, spat the taste of bile into the water, and fell to his knees. She made a sound, and her eyes rolled up. Jia caught his shoulder and put a cup in his fist. He drank. There was wine in the cup, mixed with special energizing water, and he spat it out, then drank more.

"Get me up," he said. Haoran got under his other shoulder. "You're a warlock healerr?" he asked brusquely.

Wuyi had to laugh. "I'll forgive you your imprecise terminology." The wine was good.

Jia handed him a chunk of some food. "Eat." He ate. He let the sun fall on his face and hands, and he ate. Fifteen feet away, Shen was having some wine mixed with water. He nodded, sputtered. "Is the fight over?"

Wuyi shrugged. "It ought to be," he muttered. He could hear them fetching horses—could hear the heavy clop-clop of the hooves on the cobblestones of the Bridge Castle's yard, and the rattle-slap of the tack going on.

Wuyi finished his meal, swallowed more wine and water, and made himself go up the ladders to the top of the Bridge Castle's north tower. Sixty feet above the flood plain, many mysteries were explained. He couldn't see beyond the ridges south of the river, but the brilliant sparkle of armor told him that the warriors pouring over the last ridge had to be the Royal Army.

To the west, the trees were full of Swamplings, and north, almost a mile away, a trio of creatures—each larger than war horses—emerged from the woods with a long line of infantry on either hand.

Taking inspiration from the enemy, this time they had built stone throwers mounted in the ruins of the north tower. The stone thrower fortress loosed—thump-crack—and the hail of stones fell short of the wild creatures, but they shied away anyway. But as far as he could see, along the woods' edge, the undergrowth boiled with motion.

"Why are you still here? Even if you win, you won't take the fortress. You've lost, you fool," Wuyi muttered. "Let it go. Live to fight another day." He shook his head. For a mad moment, he thought of reaching out to Luding.

Because if Luding stayed to fight, some of his men were going to die, and he'd come to appreciate them. Even the ones who created troubles. I'm tired, he thought.

He scrambled down the ladder and found Zhen holding his horse. Jia was at the postern gate.

"I miss Haruki." He looked down at Zhen. "Go straight for Yun Ming, now."

" Yun Ming is wounded," he said. "Baijian, then."

"Baijian's the man, yes," Zhen said.

"Get every warrior of the group mounted, and by the foot of the ridge," he said. "All the farmers and all the merchants along the trench and to the fort, here."