He'd expected to see Faith as soon as they entered the camp. She'd have heard them coming, or one of the guards keeping watch would have alerted the rest. Padraig hadn't expected her to run to greet him, but the fact that he didn't see her at all, was curious.
But he had equipment to put away, and didn't think anything of it at first. She'd been left with a squire to watch over her after all, and he'd taken the man's word for it, that he'd guard her with his own life.
But as he sorted out his gear, word of what had happened began to spread. And immediately he left the rest to the others in order to go look for her. He was worried already by the time he spotted her in the arms of the squire, headed towards the medical tent. He broke into a sprint to catch up with them, his dread growing with every trill.
"What happened to her?"
he asked before they got there, and looked over every inch of her that he could see. Though he didn't spot any obvious injuries, she was much paler than her norm. "Faith?"
The sense of dread wasn't helped by seeing how limply she lay in the guard's arms.
His jaw tightened in response to the man's explanation. It was someone else's
job to keep watch outward, he wanted to bark at the squire, and his
job to watch her
. He'd have let the impulse get the better of him, had his immediate concern be other than it was. And if he was angry at the guard, he was just as angry with himself for agreeing to leave her behind when he'd sworn he wouldn't.
When the guard set her down, Padraig sat down beside her and took her hand, not letting go even when the healer rushed over. When she opened her eyes, a wave of relief washed over him, and he searched her face again. "I'm here, right here,"
he said. "Safe and sound, just like I told you I'd be."
But her words were slurred and she seemed confused. Chess. Yes, very confused. Imagining things, maybe hallucinating. He remembered their conversation the trial before and he could only come to one conclusion before the healer herself did. A head injury. "You fell from a horse, Faith. Just a bump,"
he said, trying to reassure her.
So he kept her talking best that he could, trying to get her to focus on him while the healer did her work. "I'm fine, Faith. I'm not injured. Were you chasing someone?"
Running to get the warden to tell him what was going on, was the last thing on his mind. And he wasn't particularly interested in the guard's questions either. But at the least, the line of questioning would keep her talking, whether she was talking sense or not. "Was that what you were doing? Chasing someone away from camp? Trying to catch them?"