I used the cloth to wipe my own tears, trying to bring myself under control and then sat working the cloth between my hands.
We might have sat like that for hours, awash in grief, but the babe wailed from her blankets, and kicked with her feet. Isdra turned her head dully, then rose to see to her needs. I remembered my other patient, and turned to his bed, only to find that he had died as well, unnoticed and untended. Guilt brought more tears to my eyes as I pulled the blanket over his face. I’d never once looked at him after Epor had taken ill. Some healer I was. All my patients, dead at my hands. An entire village, gone. I lowered my aching head into my hands and wept for the loss and my incompetence.
I could hear Isdra chanting to the babe even as I cried. Those low tones were a comfort, and I managed to get myself under control as I listened. My head hurt too much to think beyond the horror of the last few hours. But eventually I felt cool fingers on my neck, and I let Isdra pull me up and over to the hearth. She settled me in the chair, and wiped my face with a cool cloth, Once I’d had something to drink, she sat back on her heels and looked at me solemnly.
“The babe?” I croaked.
“Well.” Isdra continued to study me silently.
I let my gaze drift over to the bodies on the beds. I felt so helpless, with no energy left to deal with the tasks ahead. I slumped in the chair, and closed my eyes in despair.
“The enemy has you, Lara.”
It took me long moments for Isdra’s words to sink in, and even longer for me to open my eyes and face the truth. I stared at her, numb. She reached over, and wiped my face with a cool wet cloth. I put my hand up to feel my own forehead. “I’m sick?”
She nodded, her eyes resigned.
So. I drew in a deep breath and straightened in the chair. “You are well? And the babe?”
“Yes.”
“You must take the babe and go. Bathe both of you in vinegar. Stay away from the others for forty days, Isdra.
Forty days. If you and the babe are still well, it will be safe to rejoin the others after forty days. You understand?”
She tilted her head. “And you, Lara?”
I drew a breath, then used my sleeve to clear my eyes. “You leave, and set fire to the village. That will take care of the dead, Isdra. Forty days, you understand?”
She stared at me, not asking the question I had not answered.
I sobbed, the pain in my head building. “Isdra, I ask for mercy. Kill me.”
“That is not your way, Lara.” She frowned, clearly unhappy with my request.
“I’ll not risk you or the babe, or any of the others. Grant me mercy, Isdra, then burn the village and leave.” I drew in a shuddering breath. “I command it. As the Warprize, I order—”
Isdra stood. “I will do what must be done, Warprize.” She helped me out of the chair. My head had started to pound, and it was hard for me to think. I leaned on her gratefully, my feet made clumsy by the pain.
She took me out into the square and sat me by the well. The cold stone felt good on my back. I blinked in the sunlight. Isdra knelt at my side, reached out and pulled the damp hair off my face. “You must be sure about this, Lara.”
“Isdra, grant me mercy. Kill me, take the babe and flee. But promise me,” I clutched at her arm. “Promise me that you will stay apart. Keep Keir safe for me, Isdra. Please?”
“So.” She set her shoulders back, as if relieved and grateful for the task. “You will be wild with fever soon. I will bind you here, to keep you from wandering.” She gripped my wrists firmly and I watched as she bound them together with a bandage. Once that was done, she lifted my bound wrists to the windlass and secured them to the stout wood. I closed my eyes, holding my wrists high to make it easier for her.
She knelt before me again. “I must prepare the village, Lara and then do what must be done. You understand?”
I bit my lip. “Do you promise?”
She nodded. “I will keep to my oaths.”
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the stones, listening as her steps faded off. The only sound was my ragged breathing. Even the larks were gone. But in the back of my head, I could hear the litany, a prayer for the dying and the dead. It seemed to ring in my ears as if I could hear the words echoing in the temple as they’d been chanted at my father’s bedside …
Gracious Goddess, Lady of the Moon and Stars, be with me in the hour of my death… Oh, I was going to die and never see my Keir again, never ask his forgiveness or feel his body moving in mine. Tears overcame me, and I wept at my loss, the loss of his love, of what might have been between us, he was so angry with me, so very angry…
Gracious Goddess, Lady of the Moon and Stars, full of forgiveness, forget my offenses and my flaws… I’d made so many mistakes, and my pride had made me think I could deal with this illness and treat these people and now they were all dead and it was all my fault, my fault, oh forgive my arrogance and…
A sound and I blinked open blurry eyes to see Isdra place a large basket at my side. The babe lay sleeping inside, tucked in with extra swaddles and her feeding cup. Such a lovely babe, whose name was lost now, because I didn’t want to think that I could fail. I blotted my tears with my sleeve and let my head fall back again.
Gracious Lady of the Moon and Stars, full of mercy, see my true repentance … for I deeply regretted my er-rors. Don’t let anyone else suffer for my mistakes, oh please, keep Marcus and Keir, oh my Keü, and Othur and Anna safe, dearest Goddess, please… my people and his people… safe… the pounding was getting worse, my clothes were drenched yet I burned. I closed my eyes for what felt like hours, but dragged them open to see Isdra as she moved from building to building, opening doors and arranging fuel of any kind in the entryways.
Gracious Lady of the Moon and Stars, full of kindness, incline your ear to my plea, and She was, for I could see in the gathering dusk the first twinkling of a star over the mountains. But I couldn’t keep my eyes open to see Her gift because the sweat was in my eyes and burning them. I tried to wipe them on my sleeve again, but the cloth was soaked.
Gracious Lady of the Moon and Stars, full of glory, guide me to a place in your garden and let me dwell there in peace. There’d be problems, I knew. My death would create such problems for Othur and the Kingdom. The cousins would try to claim the throne, and all would suffer thereby. But I couldn’t find the strength to care, I’d be in the garden of the Goddess with Father, and we’d abide in the peace of that place together. And Keir, my Keir, would be safe, wild and free on his Plains. I smiled as I saw him mounted on his black horse, galloping in the sun, wild and free and safe, oh Goddess, please let him be safe and well.
At some point, I faded out and awoke to find Isdra arranging Epor’s body on a pyre that she had made of a table from one of the homes. She placed him close to the well, as if in a place of prominence. She was arranging his hair, and seemed to be speaking but I wasn’t sure. What I could see was that she had strapped Epor’s war-club to her back. I caught my breath at the sight.
Finally she came to my side, and knelt to offer me water, and wipe my face. She took a long drink as well. “Almost done, Lara.” She stood, and seemed to look around with satisfaction. “A fitting tribute to my Epor.” She looked down. “I have only to light the fires, Lara. Be ready.”
“You… you are sweating.” Fear bubbled in my chest.
“With effort, nothing more.”
Gracious Lady of the Moon and Stars, full of glory, embrace my soul. I closed my eyes, content. All my beloved family and friends would be safe, and Keir, my beloved Keir, he too would be well and strong. Tears flowed and I gave up fighting my sobs. He’s been so angry.
Isdra stood before me, a silver figure in the moonlight. It was darker now, and I couldn’t really see her face. But I could see the pitch torches in her hand as she stood over me, burning brightly. She ran off, the flames leaving a trail of light and sparks behind her. The flames flared from the buildings as she passed, throwing the torches into the building. Flames danced on the edge of my vision.