Warsworn

Chapter 5

Long before my time, King Xy had insisted that a main road be built from Water’s Fall through the length of the entire kingdom to the border with the Plains. One of his great grandsons, either Xytell, or maybe Xykreth, had built watch forts along the road once the Firelanders had started raiding up into the valley.

Each watch fort had been heavily fortified, with stone walls and high battlements, modeled on the walls of Water’s Fall. Each with a deep well and storage warehouses for food. They’d been designed to allow a contingent of warriors to be self-sufficient in times of battle. But they had all fallen victim to the one enemy they could not hold against: Time. Walls collapsed, and the locals carried off the stone to build huts and low walls to keep in their sheep and pigs. Only a very few remained intact, and most of them were closer to the border than to Water’s Fall. While I’d read of them, I’d never seen one, since I’d never ventured more than a few hours from the city.

As we approached, I could see that this was one of the last remaining forts. Strong stone walls rose around the village proper, and the gates were logs, bound in metal. I could see the plague sign on the wood. The blood was dried. Epor watched our backs as Isdra stepped forward and pounded on the gates.

There was no response. We stood for a moment, hearing only the faint sounds of the army behind us, and the wind in the trees. I resisted the urge to look back again, to see if Keir was still watching.

Isdra pounded again. She stood with her hands on her hips, her head cocked, listening intently. “Nothing. I’m going in.”

Epor grunted, and stepped forward to boost Isdra up and over the gate. Her boots scrabbled against the wood as she pulled herself over. Epor gestured me back, getting his weapon ready and facing the door. But there was only the sound of bars being pulled back, and then the one side swinging open slowly. We slipped through, and took stock of the situation.

The middle of the square was quiet, with no sign of any people. In the center was a large stone well with windlass, and spare buckets so that any could help themselves to the water. The square was surrounded by buildings, all wooden and built snug next to its neighbor to fit within the stone walls. Of course, not all of the walls remained, some sections had been replaced with wooden palisades. But what should have been a village preparing for the evening meal was silent. It was quiet except for some house swallows that were squabbling over something nearby.

Epor and Isdra were both on alert, weapons out and held high. Epor had his club, and Isdra had her shield and sword. They kept me up against the gate, ready to get me out at the first sign of trouble. But the silence continued, and no one appeared in the square.

“The scout said someone shot at him from the walls.” Epor spoke softly. Isdra nodded, and I looked up. There were small battlements on both sides of the gate that were higher than the gate itself, with two wooden ladders leading up. “I’ll go.” Epor said.

I nodded. “I can check the—”

“No.” Isdra interrupted me firmly. “You’ll stay right here.”

It was no more than a few steps to the ladder. Epor secured his club, and pulled a dagger before climbing up. He moved fast, choosing the one to our right first, and was standing up at the top in but a moment. He knelt, disappearing from our view, then his head popped up again. “There’s a man up here with a bow, but I can’t rouse him.”

I took a step toward the ladder, but Isdra interfered. “No, Warprize. He’ll bring him down to us.”

I bit my lip in frustration, but Epor already had the man heaved up and on his shoulder. We watched as he carried him down and brought him to lay on the ground at my feet. I knelt and eased my parcels and basket down next to me. The man was older, his skin tan and weathered. I

placed a hand on his forehead to find it cold and clammy.

: “He’s sick.”

Epor and Isdra had maintained their watch, focused out, observing the buildings for any movement. “So, it’s illness?” Isdra asked, without looking at me.

“One ill man doesn’t make it so.” Epor growled. “Let’s wait a bit before we decide, eh? Let’s check further.”

“That house, the one with the shutters. It’s close and it looks like it might be a—” I paused for the right word. “A warleader’s home.”

Epor snorted at my use of the word, but he got the idea. “Come.”

“But this man—”

“Leave him.” Epor’s tone was hard, and I understood that he wasn’t giving me an option. They moved carefully, keeping me between them as we headed to the structure. Isdra rapped on the door with her pommel, even as Epor guarded our backs. When there was no response, she kicked the door in.

“Isdra…” I scolded.

“Sorry.” She shrugged, then stepped through the wide-open door as I peered over her shoulder. It was a sitting room, with a hearth, and chairs. There were stairs up, and a back door into what appeared to be a kitchen. There was no outcry, no response as she strode across the room and through the opposite door. I took a step, but Epor stopped me with a gesture.

Isdra reappeared immediately, with a grim look. “There’s a dead woman on the floor. No wounds.” She moved to the stairs, and disappeared. I could hear her footsteps on the floor above. She was back down in a moment. “A boy, dead in a bed.”

Epor grunted. “Illness, as you said, Warprize.” He was fussing with the cloth in his nose, trying to get it to stay in place.

“I wish I’d been wrong.”

He nodded his agreement, and stepped out of the building, back into the square. He put his head back and warbled a long cry. That was the signal to let Keir know that it was indeed plague that we faced. As the cry ended, we heard a response from over the wall.

Epor turned back to me. “They understand. Joden asks what kind of illness.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know yet.”

Epor warbled again, as Isdra joined me in the doorway. “Do you wish to look at the dead?” she asked.

“In the morning. I’m more worried about the living.” We hurried back across the square. Epor heaved the man into a sitting position as we gathered our parcels. “I need to get him in a bed and tend him.” I looked up at the sky. “You two need to start checking the buildings before we lose the light.”

Epor frowned. “Where?”

“There’s a shrine to the Goddess over in that corner, Epor.” I stood, and gathered up my parcels. “I can use it as a healing house. I’ll be fine there.”

“I don’t like leaving you alone. I will go and—”

Isdra snorted out a laugh. “Takes longer to argue her out of it than it will to search.”

Epor shook his head, but he pulled the man up and back over his shoulder. “As you say, Warprize.”

Thankfully the shrine was empty and quiet. It was a large space, with movable benches, used as a place of worship and a meeting area. In the back was a small sleeping room, with a hearth. No priest in residence from the looks of things. I had Epor deposit the sick man on the bed, and placed my packages on the side table within easy reach. Quickly, I stripped him of his clothing, then paused. There was a strong odor that not even the ginger could disguise. I pulled the cloth from my nose and was met with a foul, rank smell, coming from the body of my patient. Confused, I replaced the plugs and continued with my work. That was not a symptom of any plague that I knew of. What could this be? The Sweat? The Swellings?

I vaguely heard Epor and Isdra as they searched the shrine, but my focus was on my patient. He was unresponsive to my touch, cold and clammy skin, his breathing rough and uneven.

“Warprize.”

His armpits weren’t swollen, nor his neck. I reached for his groin to check-—

“Warprize.”

His groin wasn’t swollen, nor did he react as I pressed down. I’d start him on fever’s foe and—

“I swear an ehat could charge though this room and she’d never note it.”

Epor’s voice cut through my thoughts. I looked up to see him standing in the door, holding a bucket of water. Isdra was kneeling at the hearth, feeding a small fire, smiling at Epor’s jest. Epor placed the bucket beside the hearth. “The back seems secure. It’s surrounded by walls, and there’s but a small house back there.”

“Privy.” I corrected, turning back to my patient.

Isdra leaned in to look at the man. “Do you know which illness it is, Warprize?”

“No.” I got up to put some water to heat. “Not yet.”

Epor scratched his beard. “Makes sense that an invisible enemy is hard to track. But there’s no bolt on the door, Warprize. Isdra will remain, and I will search.”

“You don’t lock the doors of a shrine, Epor.” I answered absently, still intent on my patient. Then his meaning sunk in, and I snapped my head around. “Don’t be foolish. You can move faster if there are two of you.” They both got a mulish look on their faces, and I stood up. “Fine. I will put a bench before the door. If anyone comes in, I’ll scream. Will that satisfy you?”

Epor frowned, but it was Isdra who spoke. “Remember Marcus’s lesson, Warprize. Death can come in an instant.”

For a moment I remembered the touch of the blade at my throat, and the fear that went with it. He’d moved so fast. The fear was real, but I wasn’t going to let it stop us from rendering aid. “It will have to do. The quicker you leave, the quicker you will be done.”

Isdra looked at Epor, who shrugged. “We will do as much as we can before we lose the light.”

“Remember the phrases I taught you?” I followed them out the door.

“Do not be afraid.” Isdra spoke slowly in Xyian.

“We will take you to a healer.” Epor had the words down, but his accent was terrible. Still, it would work. I closed the door behind them.

“I’m not leaving until I hear the bench.” Isdra’s voice floated through the door.

Irritated, I dragged a bench over, and dropped it down in front of the door. “There.”

“We’ll check the nearest buildings and return. Stay safe, Warprize.”

I’d already forgotten them as I hurried to my patient’s side. No swellings, no boils. No signs of vomiting or flux. I wiped him down with damp cloth, and tried to get him to drink but it dribbled from the side of his mouth. He never roused as I examined him, and his strange lassitude disturbed me. Still, from all appearances, I was dealing with the Sweat. He wasn’t coughing, although each of his breaths seemed an effort. I listened to it as I set my supplies in order, praying that I’d have enough to minister to those in need.

Blankets, we’d need blankets. And something to eat, a broth if I could find something to make it from. Porridge, if nothing else. I should have said something to Isdra, so they’d look for them as well. There were no supplies to speak of here. I tried to relax, take a breath and ease the knot in my stomach. Once the villagers knew that a healer had arrived, we’d have help aplenty.

A pounding at the door jerked me up. I let Isdra in, her arms filled with a squirming bundle, her face grim. “I found this one on the bed next to her thea.” The blanket fell back to reveal a baby, squirming and fussing in the cloths. Isdra brushed past me. “Ward the door, Warprize.”

“Isn’t Epor bringing her mother?” I looked out into the square.

It was the silence that made me turn to look at her. Isdra had an odd, cold look in her eyes. “No.”

I bit my lip, and turned back to secure the door. By the time I entered the bedroom, Isdra had the babe by the fire, cushioned by the blankets, and was digging in her saddle bags. The baby was crying, kicking its feet in the air. “I’ve gurt here,” Isdra said. “We can soften it in water and feed her. She’s a mess, Warprize. Her thea must have been dead for hours.”

I knelt down, and smiled at the little one, checking her over. “There’s no sign of fever in this one. Just hungry and unhappy.”

“Skies be thanked.” Isdra started looking through the blanket. “I grabbed some extra swaddles.” She pulled forth some clean diapers, and the few stalks of lavender fell to the floor. The babe opened its eyes and looked at us with sweet brown eyes framed by dark curling lashes. Then the little face squinched up and a howl filled the room.

“What are those flowers?” Isdra asked as she started to work. “They are lovely.”

“Lavender. Her mother must have freshened her diapers with it.” I cleared my throat. “I’m not sure gurt will be to her liking. Hopefully we can find a nursing mother among the other villagers.”

Isdra’s voice was cold, even as her practiced hand worked to clean the child, a little girl. “I doubt there will be others, Lara.” She made an odd clicking sound with her tongue, and the baby opened its eyes wide, staring at her. “We’ve been in half the buildings and this is the first we found someone alive.”

My throat closed. “No,” I croaked. “Please, tell me it’s not true.”

She kept her head down, focused on the babe, who grabbed at the end of her braid and bawled, kicking in the air. “They are dead in their beds, Warprize. Dead in the halls and doorways. Some are laid out, some died where they fell. Some for days, others just hours from the look of them.”

I sat there, numb, staring at the babe as it tugged at her hair, threatening to loosen the leather strip that held it. Dearest Goddess, the entire village?

Isdra turned her head slightly, careful not to pull the braid from the babe’s hands. “We need to feed her.” She picked up the crying child and cradled her to her shoulder with both hands. She seemed to chant something under her breath, and her hands were gently tapping out a rhythm on the babe’s back. The child hiccupped, and looked at me with wide eyes, tears clinging to her eyelashes.

I smiled at the babe and reached for my baskets. “I

have a feeding cup we can use. We can sweeten the gurt.”

“Trust me, Lara. This little one won’t care. As long as it’s warm and filling she’s going to drink it.” Isdra continued to use her fingers and hands to beat softly. The babe yawned, and let her head fall onto Isdra’s shoulders. Isdra, on the other hand, gave a critical look at the ceramic cup with its long spout. “Are you sure that will work?”

“Yes.” I reached for the water and gurt. “What do you use on the Plains?”

“We use a dried animal teat,” Isdra frowned. “It’s more like a breast than that cold dish.”

“It works, trust me.” I mashed the gurt into the warm water. “Where did you learn that?” I nodded at her hands.

She chuckled softly. “ ‘Tis what we do to comfort a child. We drum a pattern on their backs and chant to them. It calms them, and as we slow the pattern, they usually fall asleep. We use it to wake a sleeping child as well, at need.”

Isdra was right, the babe sucked the gurt up with no complaint, falling asleep with the narrow spout still in her mouth. Isdra smiled at the lax child in her arms. “I should go. Epor will need help…”

There was a pounding at the door that broke our fragile peace. I started for the door at Epor’s call, even as Isdra settled the child down in the blankets we’d placed by the hearth.

Epor came through, carrying a gray-haired woman wrapped in blankets. She was conscious, and had her arms about his neck. Epor headed for the back room. “Here’s one with breath still in her body, Warprize. There is one other that I have found, but I will need Isdra to chase him down.” He eased the woman down in the chair.

The woman held the blankets close around her, and seemed to sink into them.

“Chase him?” I asked as I put a hand on the woman’s shoulder to steady her. She looked up at me through reddened eyes, and I could feel her tremble even through the blankets. Even through the ginger I could smell the foul odor of her sweat.

Epor grinned. “He’s running loose, thinking we are the enemy.” He gave me a sly grin. “Of course, we were.” I gave him a look as he chuckled. But he turned serious in an instant. “I tried the phrases you gave us, but it’s no use. I want to secure him, for his safety and ours.”

Isdra frowned. “I should have been there to help.”

Epor gave her a grin. “Ah, but you had a babe in your arms. I knew you were lost to me, the moment you heard the squawk from the bed.” He turned back to me, his eyes taking on a sad, woebegone look. “Warprize, are these cloths up my nose really necessary? They will not stay in!”

“Yes, they are.”

“What if I did this?” He took a strip of bandage from my supplies and tied it over his nose and mouth. “If we dip this in the oil? Please?”

I had to smile at his pleading tone. “That would work.”

“Epor, you are my hero.” Isdra sighed with relief as they quickly rigged the masks and made ready to leave.

The old woman struggled out of the blankets and clutched at me with her thin hands. Her palm was cold and clammy on my arm. “Are they going after Kred? Tell them, please, not to hurt him. Kred is raving, he’s mad with the Sweat. He doesn’t know what he does.”

“They’ll not hurt him,” I assured her. I focused back on Epor and spoke his tongue. “She says he’s ill.”

Epor nodded, and looked at the old woman, and spoke

Xyian with his terrible accent. “Do not be afraid.” She just stared at him. He straightened, and returned to his language. “Isdra has told you? Of the dead?” At my nod he continued. “We will continue to search and find the crazed one. Pile three benches in front of the door, Warprize, and scream if any try to enter.”

I nodded as I followed them to the door. “We will need supplies, too.”

“There is kavage in my saddle bags.” Isdra nodded toward the pile. “A pot would be welcome.”

“Oh yes,” Epor agreed as they headed out. “It will be a long night.”

I returned to the back to find the old woman standing by the bed, looking down at my other patient. She looked up, her sorrow clear. “He’s dying.”

I took her arm, and guided her back to the chair. “He’s ill, certainly.” She sank down into the chair, trembling with exhaustion. “But it’s too soon to—”

“No.” Her voice was sharp. “You think I don’t know? When they lay there, breathing rough like that, it’s the end, the—” She cut off her words, shuddering, hugging herself, sobbing and rocking. “It’s changed,” she whispered. “It’s not what it was.” She stared past me, the sweat beading on her brow, her thin hair matted to her forehead. “All of them, all…”

I pulled the blankets up around her. “Take the word of a healer, it’s not certain he’ll die. With proper care, he’ll—”

The old woman closed her eyes, her hair plastered to her face, sweat or maybe tears running down her cheeks. “I’m a healer, and we’ll all die.” She covered her face with her hands, and wailed.

It was dark when Epor and Isdra returned.

“No sign of the crazed one. If there’s more, they’re hiding.” Epor placed his load of blankets by the hearth. “We’ve lost the light. We’ll look again in the morning.”

I ran my hands over my hair, brushing back the loose tendrils. They’d hauled in supplies as I had tended to our three patients. We’d done quite a bit in the last few hours.

Isdra had a bucket of water, and a crock jug tucked under her arm. “The babe?”

“Sleeping.” I took the water from her and placed it with the others. “I fed her again, so she should nap for a while.”

Isdra nodded absently as she went over to the child, sleeping on a cushion of blankets. Epor and I exchanged an amused glance as she checked her, not satisfied with my reassurance. Isdra smiled down at the child, her angular face softened in the firelight. “I found a goat with milk.” She put the jug down, then stood, stretching out her back as she did so. As I handed Epor some kavage, I caught him looking at her, and quickly looked away.

Isdra accepted kavage as well, and settled down on the floor not far from the child. She arranged her weapons at her side, close at hand. They had raided the nearby homes for supplies, so instead of the rations that we’d brought, there were two chickens on the spit, a broth simmering on the hearth, and bread and cheese. The well had provided the water, there was plenty of wood out back and they found bedding and blankets for all. Epor had even carried in another bed for the healer. It was cramped quarters, but it would serve for tonight. They hadn’t been able to catch the one man, and Epor was determined that he and Isdra would stand watch through the night.

Epor settled by the fire opposite Isdra, arranging his weapons close at hand, too. He looked tired, and I had to admit that I was feeling worn myself. He was reaching for water to wash with when I spoke. “Did you cry out to the others, Epor?”

He looked up at me, his eyes wide, then laughed. “We would say ‘signaled’, Warprize. Aye, I did, gave the ‘All’s well’ cry.” Epor moved an empty bucket between himself and Isdra, and poured the water for us to wash.

“Who replied?” I tried not to look like I cared about the answer.

But nothing got past those two. Isdra flicked a glance at Epor, but his gaze stayed on my face with a knowing look. “Joden.”

I said nothing, just settled down with them. We washed, and they pulled their masks down just enough to be able to eat. I removed the pads from my mouth as Isdra reached for the chickens. Epor broke off a chunk of bread and handed it to me. “The others?”

“Sleeping.” I looked about the room at the quiet figures around us.

“Do you know the enemy yet?” Isdra had a chicken leg and was tearing into it as she passed me part of the bird.

“No.” I bit into the warm meat. The old woman had broken down after she revealed that she was the healer. I’d managed to get her on to a pallet and calmed to the point that she’d fallen asleep. I’d save my questions for the morning. She’d mentioned the Sweat, but the symptoms that I was seeing were nothing that I’d ever heard of. Tomorrow I’d go to her home and see what she’d been using, and take any supplies that I could.

I’d taken to calling the man that we’d found on the wall ‘Archer’. He was so deeply unconscious I hadn’t been able to get him to swallow any liquids. I’d settled for scraping a small amount of fever’s foe on the roof of his mouth, hoping that it would melt down his throat. His breathing was rough, but there was no cough and the fever seemed to have vanished.

Thankfully the babe glowed with health. Isdra was smiling at the sleeping child as she ate. Epor passed me more food and urged me to eat. We sat quietly, eating and enjoying the peace of the moment.

After we’d picked the bones clean, Epor settled back, and gave a quiet belch. Isdra poured more kavage. I drank some of the bitter liquid before I spoke. “Tomorrow, I want to go to the healer’s home, Epor. She will have supplies that I will need.”

“We must also start to deal with the dead or the filth of this place will overwhelm us.” Epor responded.

Isdra wrinkled her nose. “It already does. I have seen enough that I will never live in a tent of stone. Dirt and mouse droppings in every corner.” She waved her hand for emphasis. “A tent you can clean, shake free and be off. How can you think to keep a ‘house’ clean?”

Epor chuckled, but I admonished her. “Isdra, they have been sick. Maybe they haven’t been able to clean.”

Isdra shrugged. “Still, Warprize.”

“Warprize, you give your dead back to the earth, yes?”

I turned toward Epor. “Yes, we bury our dead. What is your tradition?”

“We give ourselves back to the elements, as do all. Some by fire, earth or air. It is rare to give to the waters, but it is done. Each according to their preference.”

“Air?” I tried to imagine how that would work and failed.

“The body is lifted on a platform, left naked to the sky. Over time, the platform decays, and falls to the ground, usu-ally pulled down by the snows.” Isdra gave me a look when I tried not to show my disgust. “Cleaner than giving back to the earth. But if earth is your custom, we will follow it.”

“I suppose.” I responded politely. “Epor, you and Isdra alone can’t bury the bodies. From what you say, there are too many.”

“We can start. A shame we can’t let the army know to dig for us. But none of the cries are designed to carry that message.”

“We can’t risk exposing them.”

Epor shrugged. “We will do what must be done. We can use fire as well, if we can find a clear clean place to build a pyre. Fire is my preference. We will finish our search tomorrow, then start on the dead.” Epor drained his kavage. “You will stay in here, with them?”

“Yes.” I finished mine as well. “I will tend them through the night, catch sleep when I can.”

“Then I will take first watch. Isdra—”

“Needs a bath.” Isdra stood, securing her weapons. “There is a well and buckets and I am going to bathe.”

Epor laughed softly. “As you say.” He stood. “I will watch… to keep you safe.”

Isdra smirked at him, and reached over to scratch him under the chin, her finger rasping in the hairs of his beard. “As you say.”

Epor acted offended. “I must keep an eye out for the crazed one. What other reason would I have to watch?”

I had to chuckle, even as Isdra rolled her eyes. She rose, with a last look at the babe, and headed for the door. But Epor did not move. I looked at him, curious.

He sighed, and lowered his voice. “Lara, I would ask for your token.”

Startled, I fumbled in my pocket and pulled out a stone. He took it gravely. “I would speak a truth, Lara.”

“I will hear your truth, Epor. And answer it.”

He shook his head. “No answer is needed. This is a truth of our ways, that I would tell you, and have you consider, yes?”

I nodded.

He focused on me, holding my gaze with his. “Bonding is not an easy thing, Lara. It takes a lot of work for a couple to maintain a bond.” I nodded again, and he continued. “One of the things you cannot do is lie to your bondmate.”

I flushed, embarrassed, and looked away. I opened my mouth to retort, but Epor touched my knee and silenced me with his words. “I do not know your ways in this, for I have learned that those of Xy bond early, and for life. Maybe this is the way of your people. But Keir is of the Plains, and for us, the bond must come first, the bondmate being due your first thoughts, eh?”

I nodded, still looking down at my hands.

“So.” Epor reached over and tucked the stone back into my hands. “I ask that you think on my truths, Lara.” He stood and stretched as I fidgeted with the stone. “Now I will go and watch Isdra’s back, yes?”

I nodded again. He put his mask in place, gathered up his weapons and left without another word. I waited until he left to wipe my eyes. I’d been right to stay silent. If I’d told Keir about the forty days he’d never have allowed me to enter this village, never have stopped on his way to the Plains. I plucked at a rough spot on my tunic and tried not to hear the tiny voice in the back of my head, the one that was pointing out that I’d never given Keir a chance.

Once I’d checked everyone and set up my pallet, I realized we’d need more water. With empty bucket in hand, I eased the door open and slipped into the main room.

Shrines to the Goddess are designed with small, high windows to allow her light to shine within. The moon was not full, but the soft beams of light filled the room with a silver glow.

The doors out to the square were open. I stepped out into the doorway, and stopped.

The same silver light made the square glow, casting faint shadows. Epor was seated on the well, his club in one hand. The light made his hair seem an even brighter gold. He’d lowered his mask again, I could see the gleam of his smile.

Isdra was naked, a slim silver figure in the light. Her braid shone in the moonlight. She was using one of the buckets to splash water over herself. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but Epor’s eyes held a light that needed no explanation.

Captured by the sight, I watched as Epor stood, caught Isdra with his free arm and pulled her close. She moved eagerly, plastering her wet body against his and pulling his head down to hers. Their kiss was long and deep and—

I stepped back and hid behind the door, embarrassed. A longing blazed within me, for Keir’s strong body, for the taste of his lips in my mouth. I bit my lip. And took a step further away from the sight, for I wished so very much that it was Keir and I by the well, in the moonlight.

Yet, here I was alone and by my own choosing. Events demanded that I do this and I had made the right choice.

These people were ill, and needed my help. It had been the right thing to do, of that I was certain.

The emblem of the Goddess gleamed on the far wall, the Lady’s calm face serene in the light. I sent a silent prayer to her, for the lives of my patients and the people of this village. Legend has it that the Goddess, the Lady of the Moon, is wed to the God, the Lord of the Sun. Then-relationship is a fierce one, filled with storms and rumbles.

He’d been so angry. So furious with me. But I’d done the right thing after all. There was illness here, deadly illness and it could not be ignored. We’d help those we could, bury those we couldn’t, get the information we needed, stay isolated for the required period and then be on our way. All would be as it was before. Keir would forgive my actions. Wouldn’t he?

I gnawed at my lip, suddenly filled with doubt. What had seemed like such a small thing before now seemed—

A sound came from the other room, and I hurried back to my patients.

“Those barbarians will kill us in our sleep.”

“No, they won’t.” I was trying to sooth the old woman as I wiped her face. She’d woken, drenched in sweat, the heat and stink radiating off her body in waves. I’d added rose oil to the water, and it seemed to help with the smell. Her weak eyes were wide with fear, and she clutched at me with what strength she had left as I bathed her face and chest. “Can you tell me what happened here?” She squinted up at me, confused. “Who are you?” I decided to keep my explanations simple for now. “Lara, Master Healer, trained by Eln of Water’s Fall.”

Isdra entered, hair damp, but fully dressed, carrying more water. The old woman tensed, sucking in a breath. “That’s a Firelander!”

“It is, but she will not harm you. She is my friend.” I tried to block her vision with my body. “Who are you? What happened here?”

“Rahel, Healer, trained by Thrace of Lake’s End.” Ra-hel answered me almost absently as she tried to see what Isdra was doing.

“What happened here, Rahel?” I repeated.

Her eyes moved back to lock on my face. “It’s changed, the Sweat. Too fast, too fast!”

“Tell me.”

“Three days ago, two strangers were found on the main road, ill and feverish.”

Three days? These people had all sickened and died in the last three days? My throat went dry.

Rahel grasped at my arms, her gaze fixed on my face. “We had no warning, no time to act. There’s those that left for the city two days past, but all we could do was close the gates and pray to the Goddess. My fault, all my fault that they died…” Her voice rose in a shriek, waking the baby who started to cry. Isdra moved to pick her up, and soothe her.

The babe’s cry seemed to clear some of Rahel’s confusion. “Whose baby is that?”

“We don’t know. We found her next to her dead mother.”

“How old?”

I rinsed my cloth out in the cool water. “Some six months is my guess.”

Rahel lay back against the pillows and stared unseeing at the ceiling. She drew in a long shuddering breath.

“Meara’s get, then. So Meara’s dead.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I birthed her with these two hands. My babies, all my babies. I tried so hard.” Her voice trailed off in sobs.

I wiped her face with soft strokes. “Tell me about the illness, Rahel. I must know.”

“First the sweat, where water pours from the body in rivers. Then the madness, a delirium like I have never seen. The soul raves and rants with unseeing eyes and horrible anger.” She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, as if reciting a lesson she’d forced herself to memorize. “Then a sleep so deep that they respond to nothing, not pain nor noise. Deep, deep, past any hope or will to live. They are just…” She opened her eyes, and clutched at my arm. “They all died. I tried everything I knew, but they all—”

“Hush now, all will be well.” I assured her. “A good broth, a strong dose of fever’s foe and you will be—”

“Fool girl,” she snapped. “Trained of Eln? Have you not heard what I said? Tried them all, there’s no remedy, no cure, they just fall over. There’s only cold, cold death.” She cried out, sobbing as through her heart would break. “I failed them all. My babies…” Her fingers pulled weakly at the blankets.

“Fever’s foe—”

“Tried it.”

“Dittany.”

“Tried that.”

“Watermint.”

“Tried that, too.” Anger flashed over her face, but she was too weak to hold the glare. “Fool girl, tried them all, but there’s no remedy, no cure. There’s only cold and the grave.” She put a hand to her forehead. “It’s come for me, death has, and it’s welcome. All my babes, and their babes…” She started to wail, sobbing out her despair.

Isdra was trying to feed the babe, and comfort it at the same time. Epor stuck his head in. “What’s amiss?”

“The woman woke, and her cries have frightened the babe. She thinks you are going to eat her.”

Rahel stopped crying and stared at Epor, wide-eyed.

Epor smiled at her, showing his teeth. “I wouldn’t. Too scrawny.”

I smiled at the jest, and Rahel demanded to know what he said. She looked at me with suspicion, but seemed to relax a little, especially when Epor leaned against the doorpost, watching Isdra make a bed by the fire for herself, with the babe nestled down beside her. In the quiet, Rahel closed her eyes, and whispered something. I leaned closer. “What did you say?”

She opened her eyes. “Bind me.”

“I don’t think—”

“Bind me, girl.”

“Rahel, you’re no threat.”

“The fever has me. Bind me now.”

“What does she say?” Epor asked.

I explained and he nodded. “Even a weakling with a knife is dangerous. Take no chance, Warprize.”

Rahel seemed to sense his attitude. “He knows. Healers know the way of pain. Those that heal can hurt in need. Tie me, I say.”

I rolled my eyes, and in the end I secured her wrists to the frame, but only after I had her drink some broth. She lapsed into an uneasy sleep. Epor went outside to stand watch, Isdra rolled into her blankets and I settled in for a long night.

By dawn, Rahel could not be roused. She lay silent, still, and unresponsive.

I was exhausted, and filled with chagrin at my folly. I should have listened to her, forced her to tell me everything while she was conscious and talking. I should have heeded her warnings, but I had not believed that a disease could kill so very swiftly.

I knelt by Epor, sleeping in the blankets that Isdra had vacated. They’d traded off during the night. A touch of my hand on his shoulder, and his eyes were open. He sat up when he got a good look at my face. “Warprize?”

“We need to go to the healer’s home, Epor. I need to see what she was trying to do before you brought her here.”

Epor glanced at the beds. “The man?”

“Dead.” I refused to look at the body. I’d covered his face, and my failure, with a blanket.

Epor stood, gathering his weapons. His eyes flicked to the corner where the babe rested. “She’s well, at least?” he asked gruffly.

“So far.”

Epor led the way, and I followed him out into the main room. Isdra was just inside the door, seated on one of the benches, positioned so that she could see out into the square. She made no comment as we approached, just lifted an eyebrow.

“A scouting run.” Epor spoke softly, tightening his mask. “Anything?”

“All’s quiet.” Isdra stood. “The others?”

“The babe is well. The woman still lives. The man is dead.” I didn’t really want to discuss the details. Thankfully, Isdra was content with my response.

“We’ll finish the search when we return.” Epor looked out over the square, and the light that was growing steadily. “No sign of the crazed one?”

“None.”

“Heat some kavage for us, eh? We won’t be long.”

Isdra gave him a smile, and a nod. “I’ll see to the babe.”

Epor stepped to the doors, and I moved to stand next to him. The light was growing brighter, but the walls and the house made deep shadows around the edge. Epor put his hand on my shoulder. “You will stay with me, and do as I say. If I say run, you will come back here, yes?”

“I will.”

He moved then, at a fairly rapid pace, around the square, staying in the shadows as much as he could. He’d stop every few paces, listening. I’d stop too, but my heart was beating so fast that I would not have heard an army approaching. It was scaring me, that he thought this was necessary.

The healer’s clinic was off the square, in a small alleyway. Epor went in first, urging me to stay pressed against the wall next to the door. It was a small area, just the two rooms and a loft above, much like the house we’d gone in the day before. Epor returned quickly, and gestured me into the back room. “This is it, Warprize. The room above has only beds with the dead in them.”

It was her stillroom, filled with familiar scents and the cloying odor of death. The room was in disarray, as if it had been used in haste. There were pots of fever’s foe over by the fire, still in the cauldrons. I found half-ground dittany and watermint on the tables. She’d tried them, as she had said.

Epor stood at the door, shifting his gaze from me to the other room and the outer door. He was making no secret of his impatience, but I wasn’t to be rushed.

The old schools of healing taught that you kept your best recipes and discoveries to yourself, calling them the secrets of the trade. Eln took a different approach, teaching that all knowledge must be shared to make us all better healers. If Rahel was of the old school, she’d have hidden her notes and recipes somewhere. I only hoped that Rahel had not guarded her secrets too well.

It took a bit of poking around, but I found rolls of notes in a canister on a high shelf. I put that in my satchel, along with the notes. With any luck, she’d taken some notes about the process of this plague.

Epor coughed. “Warprize…”

“One last thing,” I moved to his side. “I want to see the bodies upstairs.”

“Quickly.”

I moved up the stairs as quickly as I could. It was warmer here and the smell was that much stronger. I was grateful for the ginger cloth over my nose and throat, but even that couldn’t cover the smell. I stepped to the nearest bed and pulled back the blanket. There were no visible wounds on the body. He lay on his back, as if asleep. The cups and jars on the table between the bed held fever’s foe and dittany. I looked at the other man, and had to pause, thinking for some reason that I had seen him before. I studied the face, but death had left his mark and I wasn’t sure if—

“Warprize.”

I replaced the blankets and moved to leave when a pile of clothing caught my attention. Quickly I held up the top garment, then shuffled through the rest of the pile. These were priestly garments, worn by the priests of the Sun God. What were they doing here?

“Warprize.”

This time, Epor was at the bottom of the stairs, and not to be denied. I turned to go and took a step, when a noise came from behind me.

From under one of the beds.

I froze, holding my breath. At the bottom of the steps, Epor frowned at me. “Lara, we need to—”

“I think—” I turned to look, but I was too slow. The man sprang from under the bed, barreled into me, throwing me to the side. As I fell to the floor, he leaped down on Epor with a snarl.

“Epor!” I called out as I staggered to my feet. There were sounds of a furious struggle below, with grunts and howls from the sick man. I clattered down the stairs, to see them rolling together on the floor. “Epor, don’t hurt him!”

Epor gave me an exasperated look, even as he tried to pin the man down. The man put up a furious struggle, using fists and teeth to win free of Epor. Epor had him pinned when the man craned his neck and bit Epor on the arm.

Epor spat a curse. The man escaped, scrambled to his feet, and ran into the still room, with Epor right behind. I winced at the sounds of breaking crockery.

By the time I got to the door, Epor had the man on the ground, and pinned. “Get some rope.”

“Rope?” I looked about wildly.

The man heaved under Epor, trying to break free. Epor panted with the effort to keep the man down. “Get something!”

I reached for a pile of cloth, and handed him some ban-dages. Epor muttered something under his breath, flipped the man over, and hit him in the jaw. The man collapsed, moaning.

“Epor.”

“Sorry.” His eyes crinkled in a smile that proved he wasn’t. “He may be sick, Lara, but he’s strong. As well for me that he’s no warrior, eh?” Teeth flashing, Epor heaved the man over his shoulder. “Let’s get him bound to the bed before he wakes.”

As we crossed the square, a warble rose from outside the walls. Even I knew that Joden was asking our status. Epor tilted his head, and warbled what I assumed were reassurances. He looked at me with a question in his eyes, and I knew I had to make a decision. “Tell them to send the message that it is the Sweat.”

Even as he raised his voice, I prayed that I was doing the right thing.

It was no problem to secure him, the man was still unconscious from Epor’s blow. The bite had just broken the skin on Epor’s arm, but I insisted that I clean and bandage the wound. Isdra made a few pointed comments about the difference between helping and hurting my patient. Epor protested his innocence, asking if anyone was concerned about his welfare. They bickered a bit as they carried out the body of the archer.

The new patient was still sweating heavily, rank with the stench. For the first time, I was considering drugging a patient into cooperating with me. If the lotus kept him asleep, perhaps I could get water into him to replace the fluid he’d lost. Re-balance the elements in his body, as Keir had told me once. I flushed at the memory. But to give lotus to someone could also cause the deep sleep I was trying to avoid.

Deep in those thoughts, I checked on Rahel. She was still unresponsive, but I managed to get her to swallow some broth. Not much, but it was something. With that faint hope, I turned back to the man. Maybe a very small dose would aid him.

Epor and Isdra returned. They obviously washed before coming in. Isdra shook her head. “He’s still out?”

“Yes.” They started to settle by the fire, and I frowned. “Aren’t you going to finish the search?”

“I don’t want to leave you alone with that one.” Epor responded.

“From what Epor says he could awaken and break his bonds.” Isdra replied. “Best we stay here.”

“No, you need to finish the search.” I reached for my bag, digging for the lotus. “I will scream if he looks like he is breaking free.”

Epor shrugged. “I’m too tired to fight you, Lara. We’ll be as fast as we can.”

Isdra stood as well. “We’ll scrounge for breakfast as well.”

I looked up with a guilty start, and Epor laughed. “See? Does the Warprize consider my empty belly?”

“I didn’t think—”

“Don’t let him tease you, Lara.” Isdra rolled her eyes. “Like he doesn’t have a pouch of gurt on his belt?”

“If it were up to the Warprize, I’d starve to death!” Epor led the way from the room. “Nothing but skin and bones, yes?”

Isdra made a comment that I couldn’t hear, but I heard Epor’s laughter ring out in response. It made me smile.

But that faded when I turned back to my patients.

The lotus helped, but not as much as I’d hoped. He woke eventually, but he remained crazed, yelling and crying out. He fought the bonds until the skin on his wrists was rubbed raw with the effort. I could get no medicine or water into him, for he’d spew out anything I poured into his mouth. I talked until I was hoarse, but all he could do was curse me, in anger and fear, and for the most part his words were past understanding.

Epor and Isdra returned before the worst of it. There was no one with them, and their faces told me the horrible truth. Rahel, the babe, and the man were all that were left of a thriving village. My eyes filled as I turned back to my work.

For hours, we worked together in the cramped room, trying to rouse Rahel and break the fever of the man she had called Kred. Despite our struggles they were both slipping through my fingers like sand, and faded with each breath. Kred lapsed into the lassitude just as Rahel breathed her last quiet breath. I pulled the blanket over her face, and settled back on my heels by her bedside. All her knowledge gone, all these people gone. I’d risked our lives for nothing. Tired, I lifted my hands to rub at the ache in my temples, knowing that I had failed these people.

The babe chose that moment to cry out, unhappy about something. Isdra was there in an instant, but Epor scowled. “Can’t you keep her quiet?”

The irritation in his voice cause both of us to look at him in surprise but Epor already had a hand up in apology. “Sorry. Tired, I guess.”

Isdra accepted it, and turned back to the babe. But I fo-cused on Epor and really looked at him. At the furrow between his eyes, and the stiff way he held his head. “Epor?”

He straightened, empty buckets in his hands, and gave me a weak smile. I took a step closer to see the sweat on his forehead.

Goddess, no…