Warlord

acting then any I knew. If it had this effect after Iften had chewed it for a time, what would it be like fresh? What uses could I put it to?
    I studied the damp bit in my hand, then placed it back in my satchel. Maybe the light of day would let me determine which mushroom.
    I settled back down, lost in thought. Was that the power of the warrior-priests? Using herbs to mask the pain, instead of treating it? No wonder Iften could still use his hand. No wonder they refused to help, probably where pain drugs offered no help.
    Even in the warmth of my blankets, I shivered. How would the warrior-priests react to true, skilled healing? What would they do to Keir?
    I slept, eventually. But my sleep was uneasy and filled with vague, fretful dreams. Keekai and I were finishing our morning kavage when Still Waters asked to enter the tent.
    "Would you have kavage?" Keekai offered. "Would you sit by my fire?"
    "Thank you, but no," Still Waters declined with a shake of his head, setting his long, matted braids to swaying. He remained standing just inside, stooped a bit so that his head didn't touch the tent. "During the night, the guards spotted a group of riders watching the camp. Two went out to offer the warmth of our fires, but the strangers rode off as they were approached."
    Keekai frowned. "The courtesy of the Plains is not that dead." Still Waters grunted his agreement. His face remained neutral, but his voice was condescending. "Had we traveled faster—"
    "Ready the horses," Keekai cut him off. "Make sure that this day the scouts stay within sight." She turned to me as he left the tent. "Keep close to me and to Iften."
    "I will." I rose, and reached for my satchel. "Do you think there will be a problem? I thought those of the Plains did not attack each other?"
    "Would that we were of one mind, one thought, always in agreement." Keekai strapped her sword to her waist. "But there are always those few who think with their sword. I doubt that there will be trouble. But
    —"
    "Death comes in an instant."
    Keekai stopped and looked at me with sympathy. "I can hear Marcus's voice in that. He taught you that lesson, did he?" I nodded. She grimaced and continued. "A harsh lesson, but that doesn't change the truth of the words. Come. This day, we will ride hard."
    Before the plague had struck, Keir and I had feared that one of the villages of Xy had rebelled against us. Keir's concern had been that I was a target, and so I'd been hastily dressed in ill-fitting armor, helmet, and given a shield to hide behind.
    Afterwards, Marcus had made it a point to outfit me with something protective that actually fit. He'd located a metal helmet, and a vest of hardened leather that laced up the front and fit over my tunic. I had a hard time managing the shield, because of the weight. Marcus and Keir had been satisfied that the armor and helmet were enough to guard me. I'd gotten a blistering earful from Marcus when I said it still wasn't very comfortable.
    Apparently, that wasn't a concern.
    So Keekai had those items brought, and I donned them without a protest. The laces took a bit of work, and I braided my hair to tuck up under the helmet. That made it easier to deal with. And this helmet came with a chin strap, so it didn't tip to the side, or fall on my nose like the last one. That was a definite improvement.
    Iften came up as I was adjusting the helmet and handed me my reins. His face was serious. "Mount." I nodded, and tried to mount with some grace. Iften frowned at me from the ground, took my satchel, and secured it to my saddlebags. He walked around Greatheart, checking the various straps that made up the tack. When he was satisfied, he mounted as well.
    The camp was abuzz around us, as the last tents were taken down and packed. I looked around to find Keekai not far, mounting her own horse.
    "Xyian."
    I turned, and lifted an eyebrow at Iften in surprise.
    "If we are attacked by archers, do this." He lay down the length of his horse, his body pressed tight along the horse's spine, his face almost buried in the horse's mane.
    I tried it, laying down on Greatheart's back, trying to mimic his actions. Greatheart stirred beneath me, turning his head to look at what I was doing.
    Iften rose in his saddle and reached over to press at the base of my spine. "Lower still." I grunted, trying to press myself further down.
    "You must be low, less of a target." Iften removed his hand. "The horse is trained to run, if we are attacked and you lay