"Kool retfa Dov!" Regulas instructed the elf before dashing out of the room.
"What happened?" Leif asked, "Is something wrong?"
Dov groaned and got to his feet slowly, with help from the other elf. Dov pressed a hand pressed against his stomach. He winced and answered. "Yes, something is wrong, but with my brother, not me." He pulled his hand away, and Leif stepped back in horror. It was dripping with blood.
"Tis nwod dna tel em ees ti." Commanded the elf, gently but firmly pushing Dov into the chair.
"S'ti ton taht dab, yllaer." Said Dov, but his teeth were grinding in pain.
The other elf gently began to tug up Dov's shirt. "Uoy tsum tel em ees."
"Ahh! T'nod hcuot ti, Barook! Ti struh!"
"Llew fi siht si sa dab sa uoy ekam tuo," Barook grimaced when he finally saw Dov's stomach. "Kniht woh dab Chaim lliw eb."
"It looks like a knife wound." Said Leif. "But there was no knife...so how did...?"
"It would not have been a knife..." Said Barook slowly. "It will only show half as bad on Dov, as it will Chaim. I would say that Chaim had been stabbed by either a lance, sword or spear."
"Woh dab?" Dov asked.
"Eht dnuow si llams...ll'uoy ylniatre evil, tub ruoy rehtaf yam evah ot laeh ti, ro ti dluoc ekat a yrev gnol emit."
Dov tried to struggle to his feet. "I tsum ees fi Chaim si thgirla."
"On," Barook shook his head. "Uoy era ton gniog erehwyna."
Suddenly Dov clutched at his head, and slumped to the floor. "What is this?" Leif asked in a whisper. "What dark magic?"