Liang rushed to his side to bind the wound. ‘‘I think you should tend to his injuries before ‘‘educating’’ him about our ways, Aryo.’’ he said. Ayro grinded his teeth for a moment, and then relaxed a bit, ‘‘I will have my people look after him.’’ he said with a sigh.
Ayro waved over three of his monks to take him inside and patch him up. His old armour was removed, his torn clothes thrown away, his open wounds stitched and bound together with fresh clean bindings, and he was provided with his own orange temple robe as temporary clothing.
When Halatir finally awoke, he was laying on a bed inside a dimly lit room. The roof, walls and ceiling were made of wooden planks and beams, the beams decoratively painted a lively red. There were a few tables around the room along the few beds which had candles atop them. One of the tables had a jug of water with a ladle. There was only one other person in this care room besides him, which was asleep.