Warlord

was summoned with a flick of Wild Winds' finger, and placed opposite him. Wild Winds took something from a belt pouch, and added it to the small brazier. Then he sank to his knees beside the boy. The others sank as well. Out of courtesy I sat down too, but with much less grace. The staff wasn't far from me, and those human skulls seemed to move on their own, dangling from the end of braided leather strips.
    Wild Winds began to chant, calling the elements to him and asking for their aid. His voice was deep and strong. The others took up the chant as well, their heads down, their voices a soft undertone. Sako was perfectly still, his breathing deep and slow, his eyes closed.
    Smoke puffed from the coals, and, to my surprise, spilled down over the sides of the brazier, a lovely, deep purple. It flowed down, covering the floor of the tent, and then started to rise slowly around us. It made me uneasy, but the others didn't seem to mind. I realized that their eyes were closed, and they were swaying slightly to the beat of the chant.
    Wild Winds was an imposing figure, with those matted braids, and the tattoos that covered his body. The dim light made it seem as if they moved, intertwining, dancing over his skin to the sound of Wild Winds's voice. The skulls seemed to tremble with the sound, turning to grin at me. I blinked a bit, sat up straighter, and tried not to breathe so deeply.
    "We are of the elements," Wild Winds spoke as the others continued the chant. "Flesh, breath, soul, and blood." He reached and pressed his right hand down on Sako's left hand. "The soul is made of fire, and sits within the left hand."
    The boy gasped at his touch, his whole body jerking, his eyes flying open. Wild Winds reached over and brushed his hand over them, and Sako closed them in obedience.
    "The breath is made of air, and sits within the right hand." Wild Winds pressed on Sako's right hand. The boy's breathing was slowing again, as his body relaxed. I watched carefully, trying to see a change in his condition.
    "The blood is made of water, and sits within the left foot." Wild Winds reached for the boy's foot and I re membered where I'd heard these words before. That night, in Keir's tent, after he'd attacked Lord Durst in the heat of anger. He'd used the same phrases. I tried to use them on Keir when he'd been ill, but I'd gotten it wrong.
    Wild Winds pressed the boy's right foot. "The flesh is made of earth and sits within the right foot." He leaned back on his heels. "The elements will heal you, warrior of the Plains." The brazier had stopped smoking, and the air was beginning to clear. Wild Winds reached out, and pulled the boy's blanket higher, over his shoulders. "Sleep now." Sako stirred, opened his eyes and smiled into that fearsome face. "My thanks, Eldest Warrior-Priest." He yawned, and blinked sleepily. "You have honored me."
    "Sleep." Wild Winds rose. The others were rousing as well, lifting their heads, and looking about as if con fused. He looked down at them sternly. "Air the tent, but keep him warm."
    "Our thanks, Eldest Warrior-Priest," Inde spoke, even as she and the other woman moved to obey, but Tant paused before me.
    "I'm sorry, Warprize. I feared that the plague was here."
    "You did the right thing, Tant." I stood as well, and gathered up my satchel. "We can't take any chances." Tant nodded his head, and moved to help the others.
    "I will escort you to your tent," Wild Winds said, retrieving his cloak and pulling his staff from the ground. He held the flap open and I emerged into the fresh, cool air. A breeze had sprung up, and I wrapped my cloak around me, even as Wild Winds brought his own over his shoulders.
    Apparently, even warrior-priests could feel cold.
    Amyu and the guards were waiting, and they stepped back as Wild Winds walked past them. I fell into step beside him, and Amyu and the others followed behind, silent.
    After a moment, I risked a question. "What was in the smoke?"
    "What was in the jar?" Wild Winds fired back.
    "Fever's foe," I answered, using the Xyian words. "You make it by—"
    "You'd share that?" He stopped and stared at me. "With me?" I stood, and stared right back at him, ignoring the tattoos and focused on his eyes. "Yes." We stood there in silence. I refused to look away as he studied me. One of my curls chose that moment to work its way loose, and float down to dance in the breeze.
    Wild Winds spun on his heel, and strode off.
    I had to run a few paces to catch up, determined to