"The warrior Loren of Clan Raynor," Kelly told him. "I think Chief Ryan is trying to force a breakthrough, finding you strong opponents who won't pull their punches the way we've started doing because we don't want to add to your problems." "Um." Medart frowned at that. "I hadn't noticed--but then my control's so erratic I probably couldn't. Whoever I fight the duel with damnsure won't pull his punches, though, so I have to go along with Ryan--best I train with someone who's going all-out, too." "That part no one can argue," Kelly said. "But . . . James, can you tolerate the added stress? Watching you is like watching a warrior in constant need, with no hope of being able to give you release." Medart winced, aware of how much that would distress any warriors'-woman. "I'm not in that bad a shape--I've seen some who were, remember? What I'm going through is no fun, but I think I can hold out long enough." "I pray to all the gods you're right." * * * * * By the end of the next week, Medart was praying too, to all the gods he could recall from his childhood. He'd been brought up Omnist, so there were quite a number of them, and he added a pair the Sandemans in Alpha Prime said should be favorably inclined to him: the two warriors he'd given Last Gift to, Leigh DarVader and Keith DarLewies. It didn't seem to help. Despite Ryan's instructions, his opponents' best efforts, and his own increasingly urgent attempts over the next month, his control remained erratic. Unfortunately his physical condition didn't remain as stable; it worsened steadily. By the end of that time, Medart had lost close to twenty kilos, and the constant pain allowed him only the sleep his body absolutely had to have. He'd given up even trying to eat breakfast, beyond the hot chocolate that contained the caffeine he needed as a stimulant; he ate only after his afternoon practice sessions, when he was too tired to gag. And he'd wondered how long Ryan would keep supporting him, so he wasn't surprised when the clan-chief joined him, Kelly, and Haley--both of whom had taken to remaining close except when Haley was at his own training sessions--at the evening meal. Medart endured the clan-chief's scrutiny, certain he knew what was coming, so he wasn't surprised when Ryan spoke. "Prince James, will you admit I have done my best to teach you as you asked?" "You have, Clan-chief," Medart replied. "My inability to benefit by more than the most basic instruction cannot be laid to your lack of effort." He took a deep breath, rubbed his aching eyes. "You've done your best; I can't hold you to a repayment I'm incapable of absorbing. As far as I'm concerned, that part of Clan Vader's life-debt has been discharged." "I thank you for your generosity, James. I will have you returned to the Empire; perhaps they can heal you where we cannot."