“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.