Meck searched his memory for the limited healing spells he knew. He couldn’t even ask Vedder for help because his powerful friend had almost flunked out of the medical section. Healing wasn’t about powering through and that was Vedder’s best ability. He didn’t do as well with more subtle magic.
“Get to work! What kind of wizard are you?” The soldier jeered.
“The non-healing king.” Meck resisted the urge to show off his fire starting spells. An explosion nearby sprayed them with bits of rock and dirt. Meck cast a quick shield over them until the rubble stopped raining from the sky.
The open wounds were the easy part it was the stuff hidden below he didn’t know how to fix. A quick mending spell closed the gash across Anders’ chest but the same wouldn’t fix anything broken. “Where is your medical team?”
“On the other side of the battle,” one of the soldiers volunteered.
Great. Of course they were. Why would they have anyone nearby to help with wounded when they could be standing on the sidelines doing nothing? Meck pushed a stabilizing spell across Anders hoping to stop anything from shifting where it shouldn’t. Unfortunately the influx of magic woke Anders up. Meck pushed down on his shoulder when he tried to move.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“In case you missed it there’s a battle going on,” Anders waved a hand toward the two men battling it out with swords and shields.
“I noticed,” Meck said. “But you are in no condition to do anything. You have some broken bones. I’m trying to figure out how to get you to the other side of the battle to heal you. I’m afraid I don’t have any teleporting spells.” Magic to transfer people from one place to another was a myth. Meck was sure someone could do it but that someone wasn’t him.
“I can make it,” Anders said completely disregarding his injury.
“I don’t think you can.” Now wasn’t the time to tiptoe around the idiot trying to pretend he was well.
“We don’t have a choice.”
“We have several. I can run across and fetch someone, we can wait and see if the battle ends soon, I can perform more of my limited healing magic and hope for the best.” Meck paused as he thought over different scenarios. “That’s all I can think of right now.”
“You can help me over to the healer tents and stop complaining,” Anders offered.
Meck scowled at the general. “You could also be stabbed to death by the enemy while we are walking across the battlefield.”
“Or by my wizard,” Anders smirked at Meck’s expression. “You are looking rather homicidal, my sweet.”
“I’ll give you sweet,” Meck growled. “Don’t look at me like that. I thought you were dead.”
“How is he?” A tall man with sharp features and an air of authority kneeled down beside them.
“I think he has a few broken bones,” Harry said automatically. “I think it is minor but I don’t know. I can’t get him to stay still enough to check.” He pouted.
“I’m Prince Farlon. Anders is one of my best generals. How much do you want to bet that he’s also the worst patient?
Meck exchanged knowing smiles with the prince before it occurred to him how familiar he was being with someone of royal blood. “I’m sure he is, your majesty.”
“Now no reason to be so formal. We are battlefield friends after all. If you want to take Anders over to the healers I can protect you from attacks.”
Meck considered that while looking at the battle that raged on around them. “Very well.” He wouldn’t be willing to take anyone’s else’s offer but surely the prince had extra training or two in order to keep him and his entourage safe.