The group, no more than two score, pulled their horses to a stop with many tumbling from their mounts in exhaustion. A half dozen men and women were waiting with a wagon. They rushed forwards and collected those who had collapsed and checked them for wounds before moving the injured into the wagon to be looked at. A separate cart was already occupied by several covered bodies; a cart which those were still mounted and able did not look at.

Henry dismounted and waved off a medic who came to look at his injuries.

"I'm fine. Attend to the others." He was not fine. He had taken a blow to the head from a hoof and blood kept streaming down from his forehead forcing him to blink constantly lest he give up half of his vision in battle. Also he was fairly sure his lower left arm had been shattered in several places from when he had been knocked from his horse. The elbow still worked and he had strapped the shield he bore to his arm but every blow to it nearly knocked him unconscious from pain. Smaller cuts and scratches covered his arms and torso but none of them were serious enough to slow him down. The other riders who still stayed with him were similarly wounded and over half of their original force were either dead or badly wounded. Even with Granthar's help they had suffered heavy losses.

"Lord Henry, we should consider rejoining the others at the Academy. We have too few men to hold them up any further." One of other young knights approached Henry, his mount slowly ambling its way so that they were level. "The mounts are exhausted and every man is injured. We'll simply incur more losses if we ride out again." Henry was nodding in agreement, casting his gaze across the few men still able to fight and seeing the truth of the knight's words.

"Get the wounded into the wagon or secure on horses and... make sure the dead are ready to be transported. Those who are able will form the rearguard and beat off any pursuers. Let's get back before sundown."

-------------------

Elaeria watched as the baggage train departed, glaring at the backs of the richer nobles who had hurried to monopolise the servants' aid in securing their belongings. Shaking her head to remove her fury she turned back to the wagons which were assembled behind her.

"Go on, don't fall behind. If they complain about the smell then tell them their gods will smite them for their disrespect." She waved and the carts rolled on, their cargo of wrapped bodies being taken for proper burial. The final task was to load the wounded and to seal the Academy's main building. The staff would remain, safe in the impervious magical defences of the building until the area was secured by allied forces.

Heading into the Medical Ward, overflowing with the wounded, she motioned to one of the young nobles nearby.

"It's time to get the wounded away from here. Lord Henry's rearguard won't slow them forever and we need to get the healthy away after this. The brave ones, that is." She said spitefully, thinking of those who had fled immediately after their first taste of battle. Striding into the nearest room she found familiar faces in Gwen, Caroline and another young woman.

"We're starting the evacuation of the wounded. Lord Henry's rearguard are returning, they can't slow the enemy any longer. The carriages are waiting outside. I'll help carry you." She knew she was being blunt and ignoring normal etiquette but in a time of war it was necessary.