Chapter 18
Arriving into the port at Raidho, I traveled around the pier and sat on a shady bench to unwrap the wound on my arm. Under the bandage, white pus was forming around the angry red gash. Pressure of more than a few degrees was nearly too painful to endure. I covered the wound again with the bandage, foregoing the ointment. What good was it anyway? I needed a doctor.
And I needed a map. At a commissary store, I kept my cap pulled down and bought a small wheel of cheese, more water for the canteen, and a block of aspirin. There were no maps for sale. When I asked the clerk which way led to Naudiz, he gestured toward the west. I decided to follow the water in that direction and hope that, eventually, I’d be on the bank of the stream running through town.
I walked with persistence,
