Holding out his hands in case Remy went pitching forward, Nathaniel nodded, though in his heart he knew that useless gladiators were killed. There was no sense keeping around someone you could easily throw to the lions as feed. He would have to fight even if Remington didn't want him to, because if he went back home with a dead Remy, then Candi was going to cry an awful lot.
Shifting himself so he was sitting across from Remy, Nathaniel watched the man cradle his head in his hands for a few moments, then reached out to him and placed his own hands over Remy's, and closed his eyes.
"Is that your cinaedus?" one of the men walking outside the cart called to Remy with a gruff, mocking laugh.
"Yes," Nathaniel answered, just to hush him so he could concentrate. Remington needed to be able to think, because he was good in war and this was definitely war and Nathaniel didn't know much, but he did know that he didn't know anything real about war. So Remy needed his head cleared, and Nathaniel knew he wasn't a healer but he had seen in The Green Mile that the man could take sickness from people, and it looked really easy. Maybe Nathaniel could do it too.