“He lies to her, and to his people, and sends men to kill her.” Simus clenched his mug. “Challenge and gut him.” He was deadly serious.
“We have no proof—” I started, but Keir leapt in.
“He gave you poison.”
“In the same way you grant mercy to your wounded.”
“No,” Keir shook his head. “He knew the truth, Lara. It’s not the same.”
“What of Iften, then?” I helped myself to the bread. “That lance was full-tipped.”
“Eh?” From the looks on their faces, it was clear that Keir had not told them about the marketplace. Keir told them now, in short crisp words, and they both grew quiet, thinking of the implications. Simus sighed heavily. “Well, that changes some well laid plans.”
“What plans?” I asked.
“From the beginning, we’d hoped for conquest. The plan was to secure the city and then split the army, with Keir remaining here. I’d return to the Plains, and bring more men in the spring.” Simus picked up his mug. “Now, Keir must return to the Heart of the Plains.”
“Leaving Simus with no one to watch his back.” Keir scowled. “I’ll not leave him here with Iften.”
“I could stay.” Joden’s voice was soft.
Simus shook his head violently. Keir raised an eyebrow. “What of your plans to advance to Singer during the snows? Stay here, and it will be another year before you can—”
“He’s going.” Simus was firm. “I’ll not see that dream delayed, Joden.”
Joden looked down. “The Elders may not—”
“You’ve been punished.” Simus’s dark eyes twinkled as he changed the subject. “Speaking of that, have you started to work on the song?”
Joden nodded.
“Tell us the chorus at least, Joden.” Simus gestured with a hand, almost spilling my kavage. “Are we to wait until you perform it to hear it?”
“No.” Joden chewed on a chicken leg. “Yes.”
“No fair.” Simus turned to Keir. “You’re the Warlord. Order him to give us a hint.”
Keir snorted. “Order a singer?”
Simus leaned toward me, a wicked gleam in those dark eyes. “You’re the Warprize. You could…” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“If she does,” Joden spoke calmly, “the verses will talk about a certain wounded warrior who got fat and lazy as he healed.”
Simus looked down at his third plate-full. “I need food to mend. Isn’t that right, little healer?”
I looked at him, keeping my face serious. “Simus, the entire army could heal on what you eat.”
Keir and Joden roared. Simus tried not to laugh as he objected to my statement.
“What’s the ruckus?” Marcus entered with more kavage. Keir and Joden explained over Simus’s protests of innocence. “Ah, there’s truth in what the Warprize says.” Marcus poured for all of us. “Your gut will soon over hang your belt.”
“Lara.” I looked Marcus straight in the eye. “My name is Lara.”
Keir, Simus and Joden all busied themselves with their food. Marcus ignored me.
“Marcus,” I sat up very straight, determined to win this point. “I wish to be called ‘Lara’.”
His one eye flashed at me; Marcus was not a happy man. He put the pot of kavage on the table, bowed and turned to go.
“Marcus, stop.” He stopped where he was, but didn’t turn to face me. “Marcus, I order—”
Joden choked on his kavage. Simus sucked in a breath between his teeth, and Keir had his hand over his eyes. Apparently, I was about to do something very, very foolish.
Marcus turned on his heel, his one eyebrow arched. “Yes?”
Utter silence from the three men at the table.
“Marcus, it would mean a lot to me if you would call me ‘Lara’ occasionally.”
“I’ll think on it.” Marcus turned again and left.
Simus sighed. “You’re a brave one, little healer.”
“He wouldn’t hurt me.” I protested.
“Gruel. Cold gruel and watery kavage for a month.” Keir shuddered. “I’ve learned the hard way not to cross Marcus.”
“Aye to that,” Joden said and Simus agreed.
It was late when Simus and Joden left. I stripped and got under the furs, and waited for Keir to return from checking the watch. The braziers gave off their heat and a familiar glow lit the tent.
Keir returned, and I looked up at him with a smile.
He frowned and gave me a look. “We will sleep now, Warprize. You will be sore enough in the morning. ”
I smiled, reached out my hand, and pulled him into the bed.
Marcus’ voice cut through the morning fog. “Your lazy butts best be moving. There’s a morning senel. Less than a mark to make ready.” I could hear him moving about, readying the privy area. “There’s more water warming. You can break your fast at the senel. I’ve a pitcher of kavage waiting. Shake yourselves now.” I heard him move off, but wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. Keir and I had ‘ discussed’ matters for quite some time.
A hand stroked my warm cheek. I lifted my head and blinked sleepily into his eyes. Keir rolled me over and kissed me. “When you look like that, all drowsy and sweet it’s all I can do not to…”
“None of that, now.” Marcus came back into the room, with more warm water. He went into the privy area.
Keir sighed deeply, then kissed me again. He pulled his head back, just as I started to return the kiss with a rising passion. “None of that, now,” he whispered. I smiled at him. He sighed again, and levered himself up and off the bed. “I’d best go first.” He looked down at my face as an idea crossed my mind. He glared. “Alone.”
I threw him a disgusted look.
Marcus left, and Keir went to clean up. I lay there for a moment, basking in the remaining warmth. Then I arched my back, preparing to stretch… and stopped.
Oooo. That hurt.
I must have made a noise, because Keir was next to me in an instant, a towel wrapped around his waist. Water droplets clung to his arms and chest.
“Are you all right?”
I blinked and just admired him. He looked down at me, slowly smiled, and repeated his question. “I’m fine.” I smiled at him. Marcus came into the room, and I flushed slightly, adjusting the blanket a bit higher. “My arm’s a little sore, that’s all.”
Keir frowned, then understanding came into his eyes. “Perhaps you should stay in bed today.”
I tilted my head and smiled wider. “Only if you stay with me.” His eyes flared, and I seemed to see some movement underneath the towel. My smile expanded.
He mock growled and stalked off toward the privy. “Marcus! Send a runner for Gils. I want him to look at her arm.” With that, his high and mightiness entered the privy and dropped the flap behind him.
Marcus looked over at me, concerned. “Is it the arm that’s hurting?”
I busied myself with the placement of the furs. “No.”
Marcus smiled. “Ah.” He left, whistling tunelessly as he did so.
After I bathed, Marcus stood over me as Gils changed the bandage and administered fever’s foe. The wound was very sore, but looked well. Marcus grunted when Gils was done and whisked him out of the tent. He’d not be allowed to serve this time.
I could hear the men gathering in the main area and tried to concentrate on putting my hair up and out of my way. Keir came up behind me and captured my hands. “Leave it down. Please?” He ran his fingers through the half-formed bun and shook it out. I sighed as he pulled me up and over to the flap.
Marcus played herald for us, bearing Keir’s token, and the men rose as we made our way to our seats. Trays of food were brought out and pitchers of kavage were quickly passed around. I dug in, hungry. Keir sparked conversation, asking about the status of men, gear and supplies.
I listened as I ate, noting that Keir seemed very satisfied with the responses. Simus was also asking questions and listening, but while both men seemed to concentrate on the talk, and the food, I knew their attention was also on Iften, sitting off to the far side, nursing some kavage. Iften made no move to join the conversation, but also drew no attention to himself.