His cheek was bleeding profusely, but the wound proved to be superficial. The cloth of his coat, too, was wet from a wound in his arm which pained him cruelly. An attempt to remove this garment resulted in a twinge of pain almost unbearable. He swayed faintly, gritting his teeth in an effort to retain his senses.
Once more he tried to take off his coat. His head swam. Then everything went black before his eyes.
22
How long he lay unconscious Robert could not know. When he opened his eyes again, the din of battle had ceased.
He found himself extremely weak, and it was with difficulty that he got to his feet. For several minutes he swayed uncertainly, his knees all but refusing to hold him up. The rare Martian atmosphere seemed like a vacuum. His senses reeled drunkenly.
An ornamented flask, hung at his late adversary’s belt, caught his eye. Uncertainly he stooped and unfastened it. His parched throat seemed afire as he twisted at the flask’s cap with clumsy fingers. As the cap dropped to the sand, he raised the neck to his hot lips and drank.
The fluid in the flask all but choked him as he gulped it down. He recognized it as gao, a vicious wine distilled from the peculiar sea-weed growth of the marshy regions. Yet the craving to drink was so strong that he absorbed a generous portion of it before putting down the flask.
So potent was the wine that he instantly felt invigorated. His nausea was gone. He seemed to have taken a new lease upon life.
Discovering that his arm was bleeding profusely, he once more attempted the removal of his coat, this time with success. He ripped his left shirt sleeve to the shoulder. There was a deep gash above his elbow. Deftly he twisted a torn strip of the sleeve below the wound, thereby checking the flow, and bandaged the cut as well as he could. This done, he looked about him curiously.
He was apparently alone upon the battlefield, over which a deathlike quiet, now prevailed. Here and there a tent stood, while the rest were collapsed upon the ground where they had been knocked down during the fierce hand-to-hand struggle that had surged round them. So precipitate had been the retreat of the late emperor’s army that it had not had time to strike its tents in the rear before being swept far back of its original position.