way, listening to their words while she waited to share her own.

“Are you sure that you have done this before?” the man who sat on the chair asked as he looked doubtfully down at his forearm as the other man wrang out a cloth over a basin and wiped the blood away.

“Do I question you on your fighting?” came the reply. “Or how you even came by this wound?”

“I told you,” the first replied, gritting his teeth as his doctor picked up a large circular needle. “One of the men slipped.”

“And I believe you as much as I did the last time you told me.” He placed the needle aside and picked up a roll of cloth bandage. “It is not deep enough to stitch, but if I were you, I should warn your men not to slip again. My needlework is...

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