On a stone table, Drake sits while Terry does the very thing Dina
brought him to do. A pair of young Rebman women have brought bandages,
silk threads, scissors, cutting razor, and surgery needles; as well as
some salves and ointments whose use they quickly explain to the EMT.

Terry nods sagely, betraying no loss of his professionalism and
thanking them for their help. Sitting down on a bench, he takes a look
at the wound. Then craning his neck to look over his shoulder, and
then up at Drake, Terry thanks them again and clears his throat.
"We'll be fine," he assures them. "I got it."

The silence hangs in the air for a second, and then they nod, and slip
out of the room leaving the two men alone.

Terry cuts away the fouled fabric and readies a bandage to staunch the
blood flow and cuts away at the binding cloth. It is evidently a
strange thing to do first aid in a wet environment, but he knows what
he's doing. He makes some small talk while stitching the cut closed.
The two men joke about how it was Drake who got Terry into this mess;
but that's alright.. Terry doesn't want to go back now.

The EMT is reluctant to try the Rebman medicines, but one of them was
described as useful for stopping bleeding when a wound can not close
itself fast enough. Testing it a little, Terry find it to be
effective. Drake finds that it stings only a little.

There is a knock at the door, and before the two men have an
opportunity to bid the party to enter or begone, it opens partially.
Mother Horath, staff in hand, feels her way into the room quite ably
and shuts the door behind her.

"I take it your patient will make a full recovery, Doctor?" she
queries. Like her face, her voice carries great age with it. As she
speaks, Drake will sense her psyche across the room. Only in the
Elders has he felt such a strong psychic presence. Horath may not be
Drake's equal, but she might be able to surpass all of his other
cousins.

"Good," she croons. "Very good." Her crooked hand slips in the folds
of her robes. "I have something for you Captain." She withdraws her
hand to reveal a small bit of silk with something inside of it. Her
staff knocks against a side table, and feeling it's edge, she
carefully sets the small silk packet down.

"Terry," Drake says, getting the EMTs attention off of Mother Horath,
and back on to himself. "Thank you. I'll be fine."

Terry's head whips around. "But.."

"I'm good," Drake cuts him off. "Will you excuse us please?"

The EMT hastily gathers the equipment, places it back in a large bowl
that it was delivered in, and shows himself the way out of the room,
closing the door behind him.

"I believe it was yours once," the old woman says. "I am returning it
to you now."

There is a long pause, as Drake's eyes narrow. He gets an uneasy
feeling he knows what it is. Finally he slides off the edge of the
table and walks stiffly across the room. Out of the folds of the cloth
he picks a locket on a silver chain. Holding it carefully by the
chain, he lays it in the palm of his hand. Looking back at Horath he
says, "Old history."

"You returned, so it's a good time to revisit it, is it not?"

"I came here only because I gave my word to Corwin," Drake replies.

"And your words to a now not-so-dead Prince carry greater weight than
any you may have had to the Queen's daughter?" Horath asks with a note
of wry amusement.

Drake sighs. "I promised her nothing."

"And left her with as much," Horath observes. "Except to have her
heart taken up by the same man that we're told that you still call
friend."

"You'll have to take that up with Random, which I believe you have,
haven't you?" Drakes says coldly. "He's spent the last twenty years in
Shadow over this.. which brings us right back to where we started."

She tilts her head slightly. "So it has, Captain. Maybe this time it
will play out differently." Her hand reaches out to feel for the edge
of the door and then down to the handle. "But now this old woman has
harangued you enough for one evening, I'll be on my way."

"Since you've been gracious enough to return this, I'll keep it."
Drakes hand closes over the locket and he slips into his pocket.

Horath laughs softly but not mockingly as she steps out of the room.
"Somehow I thought you'd say that." She closes the door leaving Drake
alone in the room.

Turning his back to the door, "Damn," he mutters.