Warsworn

  “We know nothing such as that.” Keir offered, staring at me intently. Iften was seated next to him, but he said nothing, choosing instead to glare at me through his blackening eye. I returned Keir’s look calmly, never so conscious of the gulf between us as that moment. Were we so very different? And if so, could we ever truly understand each other? My fears surged a hundredfold, for it meant that he had no understanding of what he faced.

  I gestured toward the village, careful to keep my head still so that the helmet would stay in place. “Keir, the plague is a danger greater than any army, and your weapons are useless against it.” I’ll never know why, maybe the look on my face, but thank the Goddess, Keir listened. He turned his head and looked at Rafe. “Has she told you what to do?”

  “At least ten times,” Rafe flashed us a grin, his eyes still watering. “I’ve donned my armor, Warlord, against the Warprize’s invisible foe.” His voice sounded odd, what with the cloth in his nostrils and mouth. “I’m ready.”

  “The skies be with you.”

  With that, Rafe turned his horse, and started toward the walls at a walk. We’d gone over the various words for illness and plague, and Rafe had repeated them to me. He was to approach the gates, learn what he could, and report.

  I shifted in my saddle, making the leather creak beneath me, startling my horse. He flicked his ears back, and I patted his neck to reassure him. I’d have to think of a name for him.

  I looked out, and Rafe seemed to have barely advanced. Another fidget on my part drew Epor’s attention. He had positioned himself on my right, by my horse’s head. He turned his head so that he could see me from the corner of his eye. “Warprize, if an arrow flies, we’ll head for the rear, away from the combat. Is that clear?”

  I nodded, which just made the helmet tip forward and block my vision. I pulled it back into place. “I understand.”

  “A pity,” Isdra’s low comment came over my shoulder. “He’s never tied a warprize to a tree before.”

  The chuckle from the others made me smile too, a bit ruefully. Somehow I didn’t think it would take much on my part to get Epor to make good on Keir’s threat.

  As Rafe continued to amble down the road, fear clutched at my heart. What if I was wrong? What if the villagers were defying the Warlord? If so, they were defying me as well. Queen of Xy, I’d made the decision to bind our peoples together. Or at least to unite with Keir for that reason. They could be resisting my decrees as well as breaking their oaths to Keir.

  If so, this army was poised to teach them the error of their ways. I had no false notions as to the strength of the village’s walls, or their weapons. Keir would kill everyone, and burn the village to the ground, as an example as well as a punishment. When word went back to Water’s Fall, what effect would that have on my people? My Council?

  Yet I almost prayed for a rebellion. Better that than plague. Goddess above, how could I explain the dangers to a people whose worst illness was a head cold? Plague respected no boundaries, no rank, or worthiness. You couldn’t rush the treatment of plague either, forty days being required to assure that the contagion was gone. How could I tell Keir that he’d have to wait that long?

  I shifted the shield on my arm so that it rested in a different place on my thigh. How did they carry these heavy things all the time?

  There was another factor, one that I didn’t even want to admit to myself. The last plague to afflict Water’s Fall had been the sweat some twenty years past. I’d been a babe at the time, and been told that I’d had a minor case that I’d recovered from quickly.

  Could I deal with this on my own? Never mind that the supplies I had with me might not be enough, that was an entirely separate issue. Could I diagnose and treat an entire village?

  My horse sensed my unease, shifted his weight and stamped his front foot. I patted him again, letting him settle down. Maybe something from the Epic of Xyson would do. I frowned trying to recall what Xyson had named his battlesteed. Blackheart? Stoneheart? Something-heart. I had a copy with me, I’d look and see. Of course, that horse had been a warrior, a true battlesteed. I smiled as I felt my horse shift its weight, and lower its head, clearly about to take a nap.

  I felt my shoulders relax a bit too. I’d learned at the hands of Eln, a true Master of the healing arts. I’d learned the symptoms of the four major plagues, could recall their history back to Xypar, some five generations back. We’d had warning before being exposed, messengers could be sent, help would arrive.

  But like Gils, confronted by a living, breathing, wiggling patient for the first time, I had my doubts.

  ‘The first rule is to never let them see your doubt.’ Eln’s voice whispered in the back of my head. ‘You try. That is all you can do. All any of us can do.’

  I smiled at the mental image of my master, but the smile faded from my face.

  Rafe had reached the gates.

  He seemed so small, seated on his horse before the walls. He was staying at least a horse length away from the structure. I saw him tilt his head, and call out to the villagers, the faint echo of his voice reaching us on the wind. I held my breath, but no heads appeared, no rocks, no arrows. Just silence, and the sound of the warriors around us.

  Rafe called again, and then set his horse to walking back and forth in front of the gates as he stared at the wooden structure. I held my breath, and then had to breathe again and again as he stood before the walls and called. My sorrow grew as the silence did. How many were dead? Or dying?

  Keir signaled to Ortis, who put his head back and warbled a cry. Rafe raised a hand, turned his horse and headed back to us.

  At the midway point, he stopped as instructed, took out the bottle of vinegar, and leaning over, washed his hands and face with it. I’d told him to repeat the action, and watched as he did it four times. I could just make out his lips moving at this distance, and I was sure he was invoking each of the elements.

  Once that was done he rode up to us, his face red from the scrubbing. “Warlord, there was no response, no sound, no movement that I could see through the chinks in the gates.”

  Keir nodded. “My thanks. Return to your guard duties.”

  Rafe grimaced, spat the cloths out of his mouth and snorted them from his nose. “Warlord, I’d ask leave to go plunge myself in the nearest stream. The Warprize’s precautions are almost more that a warrior can bear.” He looked at me through swollen eyes. “That’s a truth, Warprize, whether or not I hold your token.”

  Keir nodded his approval, and Rafe took off like a startled bird.

  “So.” Keir looked out at the village. “Iften.”

  “Warlord.”

  “Disband the warforce. Tell Wesren to make camp for the night, away from these walls. In the fields beyond that willow, perhaps. His decision.”

  Iften glowered, but made no objection. He turned his horse and left us, calling to his men.

  Keir continued to sit, staring at the village as the warforce melted away. “Brave people, to enclose themselves within those walls and wait for death.” A shudder went through him. “I doubt I could do the same.”

  “Wait for death?” I replied, sharper than I intended. “Not if I can help it.”

  “How so?” Keir asked mildly. I wasn’t fooled, for his gaze was sharp. “How can you help them?”

  “By going in there, of course.”

  Keir gave me a long, incredulous look. I returned it unflinchingly. There was no change in his expression, he just reached out and grabbed the reins near my horse’s chin. “No.” Without another word, he turned the horses and started to follow the warriors. Marcus and the others moved into position around us.

  “Keir—”

  “No, Lara.” He didn’t even look at me as he led the horses forward.

  I threw my leg over, grabbed the saddle with both hands and slid to the ground. My horse’s pace was enough that I stumbled back a step or two as I landed, enough to throw Prest’s horse off his stride. Isdra got hers stopped and the look she g
ave me almost made me laugh out loud.

  But Keir’s face choked off my mirth. His face was a storm cloud building in the sky, dark and angry, and his eyes the lightning. He dismounted and stalked over to me, leaving the horses to stand where they were.

  Prest leaned down to push a strip of privacy bells into my hand. I closed my fingers around them, but never took my eyes off Keir.

  “There aren’t enough bells in all the tribes . . .” Marcus let his voice trail off as he and Isdra pulled away, as Epor and Prest did the same. They gave us plenty of room, but kept their watch just the same. I wasn’t sure why, since the biggest danger of all was standing, towering over me, the muscle in his lower jaw pulsing with his anger.

  “What means this?”

  “Keir, we have to help these people.”

  “Didn’t you just finish telling me the dangers of this plague? Of the deaths it causes? ‘A danger greater than any army’ That is what you said.” Keir ran a hand over his face. “Why would you even think to enter those gates?”

  “To aid the sick, and care for the dying. To learn which plague it is, and where it came from. Keir, it may already be in the kingdom. We must warn Simus and Othur and Eln. The more information we have, the better prepared—”

  “No.” Keir cut me off and started to pace, moving with his usual grace. His horse watched us carefully. Mine had fallen asleep again, his head hanging, ears flopping over, eyes closed. He’d put all his weight on his left leg, his right hind foot cocked behind him.

  Keir cut through my line of sight. “We must be at the Heart of the Plains as soon as possible. Your confirmation must take place as soon as possible. If we delay, we lose our advantage.”

  “Keir, these people swore an oath of fealty to you, an oath you demanded. Winning Xy as a fiefdom doesn’t just mean taking the spoils. It also means taking responsibility for the people of Xy.” I pulled the uncomfortable helmet off, letting the bandages fall to the ground and ran my fingers through my hair to untangle the braid. “The oaths flow both ways.”

  “We pass it by, flow around it as the stream flows past a stone. Acknowledging their sacrifice, but keeping clear of the danger.”

  “We can’t do that. We need information. The army may already be exposed since you’ve traded with the farmers that we have passed. I am a healer; I have sworn oaths to aid those in need. I have to go in there.” I smiled at him. “A healer goes where she is needed. To a Warlord’s side or into a stricken village.”

  “That’s insane. You are the link between our peoples; the only Queen of Xy and the only Warprize. I will not risk you.”

  “I swore oaths when I claimed my Mastery. As you did when you became a Warlord. They require me to serve these people.”

  “It’s more important for your people that you become the Warprize.”

  “Keir, Xy was a nation of traders and merchants in my great-grandfather’s time. But the plague swept through the land and decimated the people. It killed so many that the trade routes through the mountains were closed. The Xy you conquered is a far cry from the rich land of the past.”

  He turned, looking down at the gates, radiating fury.

  I stepped next to him. “If plague has returned, we must give them aid, and learn as much as we can. We need to send word back to Water’s Fall.”

  “What need?” Keir looked skeptical. “It will stay where it is, caught within those walls.”

  “No.” I rubbed my hand over my sweaty neck. “If they are that sick, they can’t even tend to the dead, Keir.”

  He grimaced, knowing all too well what that meant. “We will send for aid from Water’s Fall. They can be here within five or six days.”

  “We can’t wait that long. If we wait for help from Water’s Fall, we may only have dead bodies and no one to tell us what happened and how. I must go, Keir, and now.”

  He glared at me.

  “I am a healer, and these people, your people, need my help.”

  “These people are not worth one drop of your blood.”

  I looked at him steadily until he looked away. “You are thinking as a lover, Warlord.”

  His head snapped back, and his eyes flashed. “I am a lover, Warprize.”

  My cheeks flushed at that, but I didn’t give ground. “If your people had the healing skills, you would aid them.”

  “Do you understand what you are saying?” Keir growled.

  “I understand exactly what I am saying, Keir. My people need yours, for protection now that our forces have been exhausted, for links to trade, for our future. My people have enough to see them through this winter but they will need every bit of harvest that can be salvaged from the fields to survive. If it is plague, if it spreads from here . . .” I closed my eyes against that possibility. “Why do you send scouts out, if not to know what you are going to have to deal with? We have to know and the only way to know is if I go in.”

  “There must be another—”

  I glared at him. “And if it gets to the Plains? What of your people? Will the warrior priests aid them?”

  He stopped, jaw clenched, shoulders tight, his hands in fists. He started to curse and the words that poured from him at that point were not ones that I knew. He stopped, breathing hard. “There must be another way.” He resumed his stalk, and started ranting. I’d not expected this to be easy, and it wasn’t. As he paced, he repeated each of his arguments and I refuted them again, knowing that I was right. I started to work on the jerkin’s lacings. These heavy leather garments were warm, and it was chaffing my neck. How did they wear this armor all the time?

  Finally he spun to look at me, and jabbed a finger in my direction. “We can send Gils. He—”

  “You’d send a boy to do a man’s job?”

  He flared like a fire doused with oil. “You are the last living member of the House of Xy. I’ll not risk you. I’ll not risk what we are trying to do for our people.” He took a step closer, and I fought the urge to step back. “I’ll not risk all this for a tiny village. Who will know? Who will see?” He turned, headed for our horses.

  “The skies will know.”

  He stopped dead, his back to me, his hands clenched in fists.

  My heart in my throat, I continued. “The Goddess will know.”

  The silence between us lengthened. There was no sound, not even the bells in my hand. Just the wind, whipping at the grass and my hair.

  The tension left his hands first, as his clenched fingers slowly uncurled. Then his back and neck lost their stiffness as he took a deep breath. I moved the bells in my hand, letting them chime softly.

  He turned and walked back to me, a rueful look on his face. “I should have known. From the moment you defied me in the marketplace, I should have known. There is more honor and stubbornness in one slight Xyian woman than in my entire army.”

  “Slight?” I raised an eyebrow.

  He smiled, and raised a hand to cup my face.

  “Keir, leaving these people would be as big a mistake as—”

  “As when I plunged my sword in Durst’s chest.”

  I nodded.

  “I would not do this, my heart’s fire.” Keir stroked my lips with his thumb.

  “All the other alternatives are worse. There is no choice, Keir.” I stepped closer, and wrapped my arms around him. He enfolded me in his, and we stood for a long moment, a long moment of fragile peace.

  I stepped back, finally. “I have to talk to Gils.”

  “We’ll have him at the senel.” Keir looked off in the distance, toward the army. “A few days delay will not be that great a loss.”

  I opened my mouth to correct him, but closed it as he turned back to me. “Come, Lara. Let us be about this as quickly as possible.”

  I took his hand without saying a word and we walked back to the horses.

  If Iften didn’t remove that smug look from his face, Keir was going to do it for him.

  The senel had been called, under the same willow tree. The warleaders were gathere
d, and Marcus had managed a meal of warm gurt and fry bread. Kavage was brewing on a fire, and the smell of it filled the air. But I could barely choke down my food, my stomach was so tense. Now that Keir had made the decision I was eager to go, to find out what we were facing. If I left soon, I’d have daylight to take stock and talk to the remaining villagers. Please Goddess, let there be living souls within those gates. Xy had stories too, just as the Firelanders did, of whole towns filled with the dead and dying. Not here, Lady of the Moon and Stars. Please.

  But before I could go, there were things I had to tell them, had to teach them. I couldn’t leave an entire army unprepared for the realities of a plague. But before I could teach them anything, I had to convince them of the threat. Gils was seated by my side, wide-eyed as he listened. His thin body trembled with suppressed excitement

  Keir’s announcement that we would aid the village was met with puzzled looks by some and pure disdain by others. “Leave them to rot in their filth,” was Iften’s contribution and it was met with almost complete agreement.

  But it was the statement that I would go into the village that caused that smirk on Iften’s face. He remained silent as the others protested and argued, handing Keir’s token from one to another. They made the same arguments that Keir had made to me, and Keir patiently went through everything again, refuting them as I had done to him. Only when Keir had finished, and there was an uneasy silence did Iften speak. “How brave and noble is the Warprize to go to the aid of the cursed.” His tone was silky and insulting.

  “Will you match her courage and offer to go with her?” Keir countered. There was an odd sound to his voice, and I was certain that swords were about to be drawn.

  Joden’s voice cut through the tension. “So it’s true then, the songs of old, that tell of cities laid waste by illness.”

  “It’s rare, Joden,” I reassured him, making sure that my voice hid my fears.

  “Can horses get it?” Aret leaned forward a bit, a worried look on her face.

  “Not that I’ve ever heard of, Aret.”

  “But city folk do not live with their horses as we do,” Uzaina countered.