All the dead, offered up in flames on the ruined village, hundreds of men and women. All taken by a disease that I was powerless to stop, for all the talk of my so-called skills of healing.
Now Iften was stronger, much stronger in his actions against change, for he had new support, including Joden.
For Joden had lost faith, in me, in Keir, in the elements themselves.
He wasn’t going to call me Warprize any more.
My stomach clenched in a knot and I swallowed hard. I’d complained about everyone using the title but Joden had been one of the first to call me that after Keir claimed me. For him to renounce me hurt terribly. And I’d poured out all my petty fears and problems in Joden’s, exposing myself to him. How would he use that? To hurt Keir? To hurt me? And Keir…
A decimated army, his warleaders turned against him, his plans for the future in ashes around us, I wouldn’t blame Keir if he turned his back on me in anger. The depression crashed down on me and I pressed the sodden cloth even harder against my face and wailed.
Oh Goddess, why had I lied to him?
He’d never forgive me for that, never. How could he, in the face of the damage I’d done to his people?
To us?
There’d be consequences, seen and unseen. Nothing I could do would bring back my friends, or repair the damage I’d created. I shook with sobs that I couldn’t stop. I’d lied and everything had gone so very, very wrong…
It was the touch of a callused hand on mine, gently tugging the cloths away from my face that brought me back. I knew it was Keir even as he knelt by my side, by his touch, by the spicy scent of his skin. I couldn’t look, couldn’t raise my swollen eyes to his face. For I knew what I would see there, knew what I deserved. Anger, contempt—at the very least he’d hate me for all that had happened.
I sat, shivering, trying to stop crying, looking at my lap where his hand covered mine. He said nothing, and I tried to get my ragged breathing under control, to face the disgust that I’d see in those wonderful blue eyes. If I was lucky he’d just go away and leave me to drown in my despair.
But those strong fingers moved and lifted my chin and I raised my gaze to face my Warlord.
Chapter 12
What I found was understanding and love in those bright blue eyes.
I broke into fresh sobs, and threw myself into his arms. Keir drew me close, pulling me to his chest with strong arms and allowing me to cling like a child. As I wept, he rocked me, drumming my back gently with his hand, which made me cry that much harder.
“I’m so sorry, so sorry…” I snuffled my nose, and tried to breathe but I could only gasp out the words. “It’s all my fault that—”
“Hush.” Keir stroked my back even as he pulled his cloak around us. The warmth of his body enfolded me and I sagged into his strength, continuing to cry.
Keir held me for long moments, then pulled away, step-ping to the tent entrance. He closed it again, entwining more privacy bells into the ties. He returned to my side, coaxed me down to the pallet, and proceeded to wrap us in blankets, covering us with his cloak. With soft, comforting sounds, he arranged us so I was cradled in his grasp, supported by arms and legs. The bedding started to warm around us, and I finally caught my breath. He wiped the tears from my face with his hands. I lay silent, within his protection, and felt my body loosen and relax against his.
I breathed deep, taking in the scents of the stilltent, and the spicy smell of his skin. The warmth of his body was a comfort and I let him support me, feeling my bones melt under his touch. He murmured something about the elements, but what he said didn’t matter. What meant more was his touch, his strength, his love, all pouring into me without a single word. Just the sound of his heart beating under my ear, and the feel of his breath on my skin was enough.
His fingers started to work their way through my hair, gently carding out the snarls and tangles.
“You broke the bells.” I kept my face buried in the blankets as he continued to stroke my hair.
“I did.”
“Isn’t that rude?” My breath hitched as I knotted my fists in the blankets.
“Yes.” His voice was the barest whisper. “But I’ll let nothing stand between me and my Warprize.”
Another sob escaped me. His hands shifted and he rubbed my back, soothing me. I lay silent, trying to collect my scattered wits. I could hear the faint sounds of the camp around us, but I didn’t care. Didn’t want to care. I was so tired.
“Talk to me, Lara.” Keir’s voice was deep and soothing and brought fresh tears to my eyes. I let them come, not trying to suppress my sorrow.
“It’s all so horrible, the sickness, so many dead and Epor, oh Keir—” I gasped for breath, and pulled my head back to look him in the eyes. “Isdra’s pain is so deep. And Gils, he was just a child, he tried so hard and he’s—” I couldn’t finish the sentence. “I keep seeing him convulse, and the dagger—” I wailed, burying my face in his tunic. “Goddess help me, and so much worse, I bed to you, Keir. I didn’t tell—”
His fingers covered my lips and I cried until I was exhausted, so tired, my head pounding, my nose so clogged I couldn’t breathe. His leather armor was smooth under my cheek, and I was sure I was getting it messy with my blubbering. Keir seemed not to care, but I did. I forced my head up, trying to ease out of comfort I had no right to. “It’s all my fault, Keir.”
He didn’t let me out of his arms. His long arm snaked out of our cocoon and grabbed up a clean cloth. He held it out to me. “Blow.”
I obeyed, and used the cloth to clean my face and wipe my eyes. He tossed it off to the side and brought his arm back into the warmth to hold me. His breath was sweet and warm on my cheek. The ache in my heart eased slightly, within the shelter of the bedding.
“So.” His voice was a soft whisper. “You are responsible for all? The illness? The deaths?”
I closed my eyes and nodded.
“How so?”
I opened my eyes, to look into the calm blue of his. “I shouldn’t have insisted that I enter the village. Shouldn’t have lied to you about the waiting period.” I swallowed hard, and forced the truth out. “Shouldn’t have thought I could deal with the plague on my own.”
He shifted then, arranging us so that he was on his back, allowing me to curl at his side. Once we were settled again, he sighed. “You are not the only warrior to take on overwhelming odds.”
I lay my head on his chest.
“Maybe you are right, Lara. On the other hand, maybe the enemy was among us, silent and invisible even as we argued over what actions to take. The wind blows, and no one can hinder it or dictate its path. If I had overruled you… if we had sent messages back and continued on, we may have taken the enemy into the Plains… who can say?”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Such slight shoulders to take on the weight of all our sorrows.” Keir paused for a moment. “Think on this. What would have happened had you not been here, and we’d no warning, no lessons in illness? If Gils had not listened and learned so well?”
I thought for a moment, then answered honestly. “I don’t know.”
“That is the hardest truth of all, Lara. That we do not know what might have been or what could have been. We only know what is.” His arms tightened slightly. “I say to you this truth—that all our actions, all of them, led us to this place and no one person bears the blame.”
“Joden and Iften blame—”
“Iften would name the grass red if I called it green.” Keir heaved a sigh. “Joden has come to me in honor and spoken his truths. He is a man that I respect and I must hear him and consider his words carefully. He must make his own decisions and come to his own conclusions.”
I rubbed my gritty eyes, and lay my head back down on his chest. “I don’t understand, Keir. How can Joden support Iften?”