But I kept up, and presently my senses seemed to clear, and I stepped out more surely.
Awhile we stood discussing which of the animals we should take.

It was my suggestion that we should ride the horses but she wisely contended that the mules would prove the more convenient if the slower.

I agreed with her, and then, ere we set out, I went to see to my late opponents.
One of them--Ser Stefano--was cold and stiff; the other two still lived, and from the nature of their wounds seemed likely to survive, if only they were not frozen to death before some good Samaritan came upon them.
I knelt a moment to offer up a prayer for the repose of the soul of him that was dead, and I bound up the wounds of the living as best I could, to save them greater loss of blood.

Indeed, had it lain in my power, I would have done more for them.

But in what case was I to render further aid?
After all, they had brought their fate upon themselves, and I doubt not they were paying a score that they had heaped up heavily in the past.
I went back to the mules, and, despite my remonstrances, Madonna Paola insisted upon aiding me to mount, urging me to have a care of my wound, and to make no violent movement that should set it bleeding again.