More injured, more men, more bodies coming trickling back into the small village, more than the thatched, brick-laid buildings can hold. The battles has been bloody and stretching on for three agonizing days. The preparation took longer than the actual fight and while those of Camiliard battled for their independence fiercely, they truly had little chance against the King that has reigned over them for so long and many believe that their Lords have been stupid and hasty in trying to wrest control away from Uther of Camelot, King of all Southern Britain. From Cornwall to the west, Norgales to the north and Lambole to the east, King Uther ruled with an iron fist and no one dared challenge him. Until now. It had been rumored at first and then confirmed that the King was ill and progressively growing worse. Camiliard had felt this was the perfect time to challenge the King's authority over their land and wealth. What they'd not expected was for the King's army to come and route them, break up their lines so hurriedly, so thoroughly. It was little consolation that he was still sick. He still lived and they'd been defeated. Now it was time for them to tend their wounded, nurse their injured pride and await judgement from the King. Merlin, however, was thinking in a bit more simple way as she tried to stop the bleeding of an injured shoulder, small but steady hands soaked with blood already. The rest of her wasn't much better and she muttered curses under her breath as her hands glowed gold for a moment, her eyes doing the same and the bleeding slowed. "Yes!" It was a whisper of triumph as she got the man's arm wrapped, letting him be where he'd passed out as she hurried to the next man, the next fountain of blood, the next stupid fool who had fought in a battle he couldn't win. "Merlin!" The brunette looked up slightly, eyes catching sight of a blond who ran to her quickly, looking almost ill at the sight of so much blood and the cries of pain and moans of despair. The stench was already nauseating and it was only going to get worse. "Merlin, there are Knights coming!" A grunt. "I know. I'm putting them back together now." came the sarcastic reply and the blond looked back the way she'd came, back at the barn entrance and to the road. "No, Camelot Knights! A Knight is injured. They want a healer!" she hissed and Merlin looked up, blood on her face, her dress, her arms and hands, some coating the tips of her hair where it had come over her shoulder. Her dark blue eyes were steady and unyielding, though. "Then you better go volunteer your services, Ayleth, because I've already got lives to save and they're just as important as a Camelot Knight's." The blond paled, but she merely nodded, trying not to look at the blood around her as she darted away and back out into the air where everything was a little less gruesome.