Warprize

lit the braziers, and started to ready ingredients. Epor and Isdra were kind enough to help me with any lifting, and soon the tent was filled with the smells of brewing elixirs and steeping ointments. I wrote with pleasure, enjoying the scratch of the pen on the page. The work was soothing. Once again, I spread out my papers and books so I could make notes on everything I did, so that I could recall what worked and what didn’t. It was all so familiar, so much like home that I lost myself in it. Until the tent wall slapped in the breeze and brought me back. One thing I made sure to do was brew a tea from willow bark. Not as strong as the fever’s foe, still it helped with my aching arm. I sipped some as I worked. The tea helped a little, but the truth was that a pall had been cast over the day. It all seemed so strange and disturbing. These people were so different, saw the world through different eyes, had such dissimilar standards. Yet, they bled, hurt, and healed the same way we did. Yet they were so harsh. Offend the skies? Was that any reason for a warrior, injured in service, to kill themselves? Yet an honorable scar brought admiration and praise.
    Keir wanted to bind the lands together, but I didn’t see how. Xymund surely had not known of Keir’s plans. I wondered if he knew now? What he and the Council must think of that idea. Of course, no one had thought of a Daughter of Xy as a tribute, and yet here I was.
    But what exactly was I? Keir seemed interested in me physically, but talked of honoring our traditions. Certainly, I seemed to have no real slave duties, other than to sleep in the same tent. Which was just as well. While I brewed an excellent elixir, Anna had despaired of ever teaching me to cook a meal. Marcus had mentioned that I had to be taken to the Heart of the Plains, but had not explained further. My imagination ran riot with ideas and images, none of them good.
    I sat and stirred the flux potion, staring at the tent wall.
    The sound of thunder drew me out of my trance, and I moved the pot off the fire to go outside. Epor and Isdra stood as a large group of horsemen rode up, Keir in the lead. They milled around as Keir swung down from his horse, and stalked over to me. He wore armor, helm and his black cape, and looked damned impressive, gleaming in the sun as he walked toward me. I lost myself in his blue eyes as he came to stand very close to me.
    “I couldn’t leave without…” he paused. “This morning, I…” He looked away, then looked back at me. I nodded. “I feel the same. It spoiled the day, didn’t it?”
    The skin at the corner of his eyes crinkled. “Yes. It did.” He leaned in and gently kissed me. Just a touching of lips. “I’m looking for Joden.”
    Joden emerged from the healing tent. “Warlord?”
    “We’re going to the castle, to learn firsthand what is known of the attack. I want you with us.”
    Joden headed for the spare horse that Simus was leading. I frowned to see Simus mounted. “Is your leg well enough for this?” I asked Simus, as Keir mounted his horse.
    Simus shrugged. “It will have to be, little healer.” He flashed a smile. “Someone has to make sure that Keir doesn’t rage through the city, slaughtering everyone in his path.”
    Keir glared at Simus, as the rest of the group chuckled. I smiled, even though I could sense that to some degree Simus was serious. Keir pulled his horse around, and they headed out, the horses’ hooves churning up the dirt. I took two steps around the tent, standing where I could see Water’s Fall in the distance, and the road that led to the main gates. Epor shifted with me, watching my back. The city walls and the castle gleamed in the sun. The scattered greenery on the mountain held the first faint traces of yellow. Soon the first snows would come, the water falls would freeze, and for the first time in my life, I wouldn’t be here to see it. The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.
    The wind caught my hair, whipping it into my eyes. With a last look, I returned to my work.
    “I have given up expecting you to remember the nooning.” I looked up as Marcus entered the tent with food and drink.
    “I’m sorry, Marcus. I lost track of time.”
    “Sorry, sorry, that doesn’t fill a body.” He shed his cloak and fussed, clearing space for his load. “And what is that awful smell?”
    “A potion for the—” I frowned, not knowing the right words. “For an illness of the