Haft hated to reduce the size of his already small force, but he had to send them back. With an escort. Balta had lost enough blood that he should have returned with the other badly wounded, but he refused to go. Haft complained, but he was secretly glad that the Skraglander officer stayed, even though it meant they had to go a little slower than they had the day before. The Aralez, a healing demon that Tabib had brought in one of his spell chests, had done a good job of stopping the bleeding and beginning the healing process. Even wounded and somewhat faint of mind, Balta was still an excellent tracker should his skills be needed. “Lord Haft!” the voice came faintly on the westerly wind. Ahead, one of the point men was waving. Haft didn’t try to yell against the wind, instead he waved to the point man to let him know he’d heard. “I’ll go,” he said to Balta. “You catch up in good time.” Balta nodded—it was less tiring than trying to speak against the wind.
