"He won't be," Dave said positively. "No one who'd take a Ranger prisoner could possibly be qualified as Sovereign--even if Prince Forrest hadn't been elected Successor." "True, but that doesn't keep some people from trying." Tarlac shifted, bit back a groan. "I think the quidine's wearing off, Dave. Do you have anything stronger?" "No--and I wouldn't give it to you if I did." Dave braced himself against the objection he anticipated from the Ranger. "Quidine's almost too much of a risk itself, for someone who's been hit with stingweed." Tarlac sighed. "You know more about it than I do; I won't ask again." "Yes, sir." Dave echoed his patient's sigh. Tarlac's acquiescence helped--but this was not going to be fun! And the next couple of hours were hard, for both of them. As the quidine wore off and the stingweed poison grew stronger, Dave wished his patient would pass out--for both their sakes. Eventually, Tarlac did; Dave made sure he was covered snugly, then turned down the lamp and arranged the remaining blankets into a nestlike bed for himself. He didn't really think he could rest, with all the excitement and problems going on, so he decided he might as well make what plans he could. They had two days before they could expect rescue, and the Ranger thought the rebels would know they'd escaped, rather than being blown up. That meant he should try to make their cave defensible--he snorted at the implausibility of one boy with a disruptor holding off well-armed rebels, but he'd have to do his best--plus play doctor and nurse to a man who had about as much chance of living through his wounds and poisoning as the two of them did of holding off the rebels. He opened his eyes to more light in the cave than the lamp had been giving off. Scrambling to his feet, he grabbed the disruptor and moved cautiously toward the entrance--then dropped it to his side as he realized the light was morning sun, not rebel field-illuminants. Good, that would give them a break! He took advantage of the safety to relieve himself, then he went back into the cave to check on his patient. Tarlac didn't seem to have moved, which Dave thought was probably just as well; at least that way he wouldn't irritate his injuries. But he swallowed hard when he pulled the blanket away from Tarlac's back, then had to run outside before he threw up all over their refuge. He'd read about stingweed poisoning in his first aid and survival courses, even seen holos in his father's medical texts--but they hadn't prepared him for the sight and smell of it in someone's living flesh.