A few others listed varying responses. Three or four seemed promising.
“We will move civilians into these locations,” Vhalla decreed. “As we do so, seek out any who have experience with healing or clerical skills. We will set up a triage here, central to all points. I need at least four runners to function as messengers.”
Men and women volunteered instantly. The room was quickly divided into those who would remain and those who would help move civilians. She trusted those who lived in Hastan to know their city and to be motivated to protect their kin without her help.
“Triage will be here,” she explained quickly to those who had remained. Her clerics ranged from old women who had seen every type of injury, to experienced veterans, to mothers, and a handful of those with formal training. She left the elderly in charge of the initial assessments.
“Those with the worst wounds send back into the hall, the least to the right. Take whatever you require and use whatever rooms you need.”
“These rooms are to be used for nobility, the Emperor’s guests,” someone spoke up.
“Pardon?” Vhalla stilled her instruction.
“We cannot take from the Emperor . . .” another added uncertainly.
“I am your future Empress,” she pointed out. “They’re just blankets and sheets and beds. The Emperor and I want to see them used as bandages, tourniquets, or comfort for the ailing.”
They were finally spurred to life. The most experienced clerics and veterans had the easiest time coming to terms with the fact that all bets were off when it came to warfare. Led by their example, everyone hastily began the process of setting up their clerical stations.
It couldn’t have come a moment too soon. Wounded were carried in with returning messengers. It only took an hour for the floor of the main entry to the Eastern government hall to be slick with blood.
“Report,” she demanded of the next messenger she saw.
“My lady,” the young woman began, “seven winged beasts brought nearly one hundred soldiers to our city.” Her voice wavered slightly with fear, but she persevered. “They landed to the north and quickly tore through the Western militia.”
“Is the army trying to flank them to recover the ground?”
“They’re trying,” she affirmed.
“Go out and make sure all the civilians on the northern side of the city have been moved to safe houses elsewhere, should any remain,” Vhalla ordered. “Then head south. Implore those who are in command there to split their forces and push through the city to defend and help those to the north.”
“Understood,” the messenger agreed and raced back out into the night.
Vhalla massaged her shoulder, looking out into the darkness past the main entry of the government building. She wondered at the extent of the carnage. She wondered if her friends were all right.
A soldier stumbled in, hunched over.
“If you can walk, head to the right,” Vhalla instructed absent-mindedly.
“Good to see you, too.” Jax raised his head with a tired grin, his presence pulling Vhalla from her thoughts.
“Jax!” Vhalla sprinted over to the man. “Are you all right?”
“I’ve had better. I’ve had worse.” He slumped against her.
Vhalla caught sight of his back. It was in tatters. A deep gash ran from shoulder to waist, two others framing it on either side.
“I need a cleric!” Vhalla called, helping Jax into a chair in a nearby room.
Her order was heeded; a man quickly rushed in, assessing the state of Jax’s back. Vhalla quickly helped by cutting Jax’s shirt off his shoulders.
“Lady Yarl, I had no idea you held such affections.” Jax waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Cutting off another man’s clothes isn’t becoming of the future Empress.”
Vhalla rolled her eyes. “Oh, hush.” She gave a small glance to the cleric that she hoped conveyed the silent request that any of Jax’s jests were not to be repeated elsewhere. The man seemed too focused on assessing the wounded Westerner to give much heed to what they were saying.
“How did this happen? What’s it like out there?” Vhalla wasn’t sure if she wanted the answers to her questions.
“A mess.” Jax grimaced as the man packed some salve into the wounds. “We may have had some of Mhashan’s might, but the soldiers were far from ready for an attack.
“We’ve taken down three beasts so far, but the bastards are nearly impervious to magic. The crystals give them some resistance and heal them at the same time. Takes three powerful sorcerers to bring them down.”
“Sorcerers are one thing we should have,” Vhalla hopefully thought aloud.
“We do, but not many at the level we need, and it has been slow communicating that the other soldiers need to protect our sorcerers exclusively.”
She knew what Jax was saying. Aldrik was one of those sorcerers, one of those skilled enough to take on the beasts. Vhalla didn’t know if she wanted to ask her next questions or not.
“Aldrik? Fritz? Elecia?”
He didn’t torture her. “All fine.”
“Were they injured as well?” Vhalla asked as the cleric worked on the last of his stitches.
“Not as of when I left.” Jax grinned. “I was the only one foolish enough to be willing to throw his life away to save a lovely lady in distress.”
“Well, I’m glad you were unsuccessful in throwing it away.” Vhalla patted his shoulder, standing. “Go to your room and rest when the cleric is finished.”
Jax looked utterly exhausted. Vhalla rubbed her own eyes tiredly. However worn she was, it was nothing to what the soldiers were facing at the front.
As the battle outside slowly began to quiet, the noise within the government building grew. The cries and groans of men and women, engaged in a different sort of fight for their lives, filled her ears and punctuated Vhalla’s every order. These people were in her care, and she would do everything she could to protect and save them.
Fritz was the next to return. Vhalla caught sight of him instantly as she had keep one eye on the door. She crossed over to him quickly, weaving through the men and women arranged on the floor of what was once her orderly medical station.
“Fritz,” she breathed in relief.
“Vhal.” He tiredly returned her embrace.
“Thank the Mother you’re all right.”
“You too, Vhal.” Her friend released her. “I was nervous something broke through.”
She shook her head. “The army held the line.” She’d been asking messengers all night for reports on the state of the city. They hadn’t even lost one building. “What’s the status?”
“The abominations are all dead. Aldrik is passing judgment on the remaining sorcerers now.”
Vhalla glanced at the room. If the battle was winding down, there wasn’t likely to be another influx of people to attend to. The clerics had developed their own systems based on her original suggestions as the night had waned, and Vhalla felt confident leaving them to it.
“Do you have a horse?” she asked her friend.
Fritz nodded.
“Stay here, get cleaned up.”
He stopped her. “Where are you going?”
“I should be there.” Vhalla shifted her arm to take his hand rather than gripping his wrist. “I need to be with him for this.”
“Vhalla, do you understand—”
“Of course I do.” She squeezed his fingers. “That’s why I must be there.”
Her Southern friend smiled tiredly. “Go on then, Miss Empress.”
Fritz let her go, and she was off. Vhalla appreciated that he hadn’t insisted upon going with her for her protection. She borrowed a sword from a soldier who would no longer need it, strapping it to her back. Even if the fight was over, she knew better than to charge unarmed into a battlefield. She had too much training now to even think otherwise.
With just the one weapon and a leather jerkin, she struck a course northward. Given all the reports she’d been receiving, it seemed like the most logical location for her Emperor. A red sunrise streaked across the sky, mirroring the crimson land before her.