After the fight, Cael found himself bereft. Father had much to do, and little to say to Cael at the moment. The words that had to be spoken, though, stretched the silence thin and tense.
The hospital tent turned out to be an unexpected, but welcome, place of rest. The sights of wounded and dying was as distressing as the smell of herbs and wounds, but there was clean water for Cael to wash blood off himself a little, and some sense of purpose. There was Ginevra.
He put a shock collar on her—not the same Cael took off himself, but a very similar thing from Gianni's stash for war prisoners—and watched as the healer cut off her clothes and washed her wounds with a small water-summoning spell. There were many.
Besides the water spell, the healer didn't use any incantations. There weren't any healer mages in Oliveira lands at all. They were rarer than unicorns, their secrets kept tightly guarded and the services offered only to the most influential people.