The old man pursed his lips as he viewed the damaged leg, then he burrowed in his bag again. He emerged with a small bottle, the contents of which he emptied on to a pad. Farnor’s nose twitched uncertainly as a heavy, sweet, smell struck it. Then, unhurriedly, but very quickly, Gryss placed the pad over the man’s mouth and nose. The man struggled a little then went limp.
‘What’s that?’ Farnor asked in amazement.
‘Just something to put him to sleep for a few minutes,’ Gryss replied. ‘Here, tie him down.’
A length of stout rope appeared from the bag.
‘Tie him down?’ Farnor gaped.
‘Tie him down,’ Gryss confirmed insistently. ‘I’ve got to probe this wound, and if he wakes up before I’ve finished he’s not going to enjoy it. And neither am I when he tries to take my head off.’
Unhappily, F
