The man with the badly wounded arm slips into a deep, exhausted sleep at last. With a heavy sigh, I leave him in the hands of the gods for now as I have done everything I can to save him.

I step outside for a breath of fresh air. Before I sit down, I dip a cup into the barrel of cool water by the door of the tent. My hands are shaking and I spill half of it before I can take a swallow. After a good long drink, I feel much better.

But there's little time for a rest. I go back inside to have another look at the man on the cot, to be sure he is still breathing. Some color has returned to his face, a good sign.

I didn't even hear the woman come into the tent. Her voice startles me.

"I have a bit of a scratch, if you don't mind."

She grins to hide her pain. I see that her left calf is badly torn and bleeding.

"And if Liadan, my wolf-hound, will allow you to come near - we've both had a bit of a battle with a boar in the maze." She whistles and the hound pokes his head cautiously through the tent flap, then ducks out again. The woman tells me that her name is Nessa, then eyes widen when she sees the bloodstained man stretched out on the cot.

"He's just resting now," I assure her, and bend down to peer at her injury. "Here, let's go back outside and give this a good washing. I'll bring my wrappings and salves, so that I can fix up your friend as well."

Nessa, who seemed on the verge of tears, smiles. She sits down in the doorway of the tent. Right away, the wolfhound limps to her side. While I attend to her leg, the hound whines in sympathy, resting its huge head on its battered paws. Then she calms the wolfhound by rubbing its ears while very gently I treat the animal's wounds in just the same way.

"There will be no dancing for you for awhile," I caution her. "Try to favor your leg for a few days. Use this stick to lean on, it will comfort you a bit if you must walk."

Before Nessa can reply, a man comes limping down the path. "Another hurt leg! By Brigid's fire, that maze must be a terror!"

I run to help him the rest of the way to the tent. He sinks down beside Nessa. "I don't think you need a cure for your laughter," I tease him, lightly touching his ribs. "That is often a cure in itself for whatever ails a person. Your leg, I believe, is another matter though!"

It feels like at least one of the smaller bones has been broken. I fetch some hot water for a poultice to ease the swelling. "Boars! Wolves! What kind of madness is this in Tara? These are the worst injuries I've seen at a festival. It's more like a war!"

The man just laughs and Nessa quietly shakes her head. I bind up the broken bones with comfrey and insist that the man drink a cup of teasel tea. "Not the most pleasant of tastes but it will help you to heal!" Nessa and I have our turn to laugh as he takes a sip and makes a horrible grimace.