“It‘s looking ugly again now， though，” said Edmund. “Peter’s not using his shield properly. He must be hurt in the left arm.”
It was only too true. Everyone could see that Peter‘s shield hung limp. The shouting of the Telmarines redoubled. “You’ve seen more battles than I，” said Caspian. “Is thereany chance now？”
“Precious little，” said Edmund. “I suppose he might justdo it. With luck.”
“Oh， why did we let it happen at all？” said Caspian. Suddenly all the shouting on both sides died down.
Edmund was puzzled for a moment. Then he said， “Oh， Isee. They‘ve both agreed to a rest. Come on， Doctor. You and I may be able to do something for the High King.” They ran down to the lists and Peter came outside the ropes to meet them， his face red and sweaty， his chest heaving.
“Is your left arm wounded？” asked Edmund.
“It’s not exactly a wound，” Peter said. “I got the full weight of his shoulder on my shield.like a load of bricks. and the rim of the shield drove into my wrist. I don‘t think it’s broken， but it might be a sprain. If you could tie it up very tight I think I could manage.”
While they were doing this， Edmund asked anxiously.
“What do you think of him， Peter？”