"We will have to leave soon. He is becoming less predictable.He has never returned here so quickly. If he does again, and it is soon, he will kill you." 

Gan Chono spoke, the unused voice raspy and deep. "I cannot involve you further."

"You have no choice. If you do not, I will drug you into oblivion, strap you to a horse and take you anyway."

"You were never this pushy as a kid."

"You never needed my, or anyone's help like this before. And this is the first real chance we could offer help."

"We?"

"The market people have gathered food for a journey. The smith has offered a sturdy horse. We have bedrolls tied to the horse already. So shut up and let me stitch that lip and bind your ribs."

Gan Chono tried to smile, which caused the bleeding to increase.  Aasem mixed the pain-killing powder with the one to reduce swelling and had Gan Chono swallow it. He threaded a needle and made the man lie down.

"This will be painful and will take a little time. "

"What's another scar? I already had one there before."

"And now I can sew it back right. Don't speak. Makes it harder."

It hurt like hell. He lay still, enduring. He was an expert at endurance after all. By the end, he sat up and asked for a towel to wipe his face and chest, stained from the blood, that no longer ran free. But when he looked up, he saw how pale Aasem was. 

"Have you ever stitched a wound like this one before?" He had to mutter now, the stitches pulled as he spoke.

"No. Stitched a sheep's hind leg up once."

"A sheep."

"Let me bind those ribs. Don't worry, I have done that to a couple of humans before."

"You are a bit of a smart ass, aren't you?"

"Just a bit? I think I excel!"

As Aasem finished the injured mid-section, the pain medication began to take hold. 

"Lay down. I have things to finish. Then I will be back very soon."

What about the guard?"

"Out like a windblown lantern. I doped a bottle of wine, so he'll sleep soundly until his relief shows up in the morning." When he made a move to stand, Gan Chono grabbed his sleeve. 

"What are you going to do next?"

"Visit the dovecote."

"Dovecote?"

"Yes. That is Shuurga's method of communicating. Going to trim their wings so he can't get messages sent to him from here. All but three of them. He uses doves because people always try to intercept pigeons. The ones with green bands are the ones trained to follow the caravan's projected path. He has dovecotes set up all through the forests, and one is near the Monastery where Anshi's caravan is settled for the season. If the dove gets anywhere close, there is a chance that the scouting archers will intercept it before Shuurga's men can. If needed, we can send one off to have him look for us."

"Okay. Sounds good. Hurry? I am feeling very sleepy right now."

Aasem laid his childhood hero down gently and covered him. Then he waved the old butcher in to watch over him.

The elder's voice faltered, "My poor Chieftain."

Sleep was overtaking the injured man swiftly but he managed to whisper back. "I am only Gan Chono. I am no longer worthy of being called Chieftain." Then he drifted off.

Aasem saw the stricken look on the other's face. "It is the only thing a son of Chieftain Dilnur would say. Would feel. We sat back and allowed this to happen back then. We were frightened sheep that let the tiger into the fold. Once we knew, we should have fought to the last man to free him. But our losses numbed us as well. We will get him to his family. It is what he needs right now," And he gripped the old man's shoulder. 

Aasem first made the rounds to all the outpost guards. They were as unconscious as the one posted at the yurt. Liquor bottles, wrapped in cheap, woven straw, courtesy of earlier visits from the young man, lay near each soldier. He grinned, thinking of the punishments they would suffer when Shuurga returned. There was no mercy in his heart tonight. 

He rushed to the dovecote, used shears on the wing feathers of each, and crated three for the trip. He was surprised when he stopped to check the horse and found a pack mule tethered behind, loaded with water, food and the bedrolls had been tied to a trailing travois for Gan Chono. The smith stood there grinning. "A donation from the outlying farmers."

"Can you come and lift him?"

"My honor."

As they began to pick him up Gan Chono roused. "The hearth. Third row up. Fifth stone in. I need the pouch."

Aasem found it and could feel some triangular shapes within. He handed them to Gan Chono, who held them in a death grip. He did not object as they wrapped him warmly in two blankets and carried him out. 

Do or die, he was about to grab freedom, either a moment or a lifetime. It would be his first taste in too many years.

Gan Chona looked up at the faces of his people and as he drifted off again, they kneeled before him in respect and deep regret.