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 gathered, 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.
“Maybe our people do not catch this illness?” Wesren asked, sounding wishful.
“The medicines of the Warprize work on our people. I fear that the illness will as well.” Keir sighed. “I can’t risk that. I will not risk taking this to the Plains. Can you imagine it among the children and the theas?”
Iften snorted, waving his hand over the group. “We are all hale and well, Warlord. There is no trace of this ‘plague’ among us.”
“But we’ve traded with farmers along the way, and there was contact while we were encamped outside the city walls. The Warprize has said that there is a waiting period to insure that the illness is gone.”
There was a stir toward the back, and Tsor rose. He was a big man, with long thick black hair. “Warprize, I would ask for your token.”
I looked at him in surprise, startled that he’d feel that he needed a token in his hand. Gils nudged me, and slipped a small jar of fever’s foe into my hand. I held it up, and Tsor stepped forward to take it. “I hold your token, Warprize. I give voice to one truth.”
“I will speak to your truth.” I said, curious to hear him.
“Warprize, I have seen the healing that you have done, and I have heard the words of the Warlord. I would not offend, but I am troubled. We of the Plains have a strong tradition of passing down our knowledge by the words of our theas and our Singers. But your people, they rely on words that are on ‘paper’ and in ‘books’.” He used the Xyian words slowly, as he played with the small jar in his hands. “You keep your wisdom in these things. And you do not have a ‘book’ here to tell you of the past.” He cleared his throat, and shifted his weight, clearly uncomfortable. “Perhaps your memory is wrong?”
There were soft gasps around the gathering, and even Keir sucked in a slow breath. Marcus was glaring at the man as if he’d insulted me, and maybe to their way of thinking he had. Gils sat up straight, indignant. I put a hand on his shoulder, afraid that he would do something rash.
“Tsor, it’s true that my people put their learning into ‘books’ in order to save it. But the lessons learned from them are well learned, especially on the subject of ‘plague’.” I let my gaze travel over the group. “My teacher was Eln of Water’s Fall, and he insisted that we learn and know the—” I had to pause, they have no word for ‘symptom’. “The signs to look for and how to treat them.”
Tsor, still holding the jar, opened his mouth but I wasn’t done. “I can’t say that my memory is as good as yours. But my knowledge and my skill are from years of learning and doing. You understand?” I looked at him closely as he nodded. “Have I answered your truth?”
“You have, Warprize.” He handed the jar back to me, and sat back down.
“So.” Keir spoke. “We will aid the village. Wesren, this will be an extended camp. See to it.”
Wesren was nodding, but Yers stood, his face thoughtful. “I’d ask the Warprize what to expect from the weather at this time of year.”
I thought for a moment. “The Goddess’s Lace won’t be for a few weeks, Yers.” I could tell that he didn’t understand. “The first hard frost. We say that the Goddess is weaving the lace for her wedding. The snows start a few weeks after that.”
It was clear that my explanation had confused him further. “So it will continue to get colder as the days shorten?” When I nodded, he grunted and sat down.