Warprize

translation.
    Joden seemed to understand as he watched Simus. Now that we were finished, he had fallen into an uneasy sleep. I reached for fresh water to bathe his face, only to see my hands tremble in front of me.
    “No.” Joden had risen and was standing next to me. He lowered his hand and held it out. “We can look to him now.”
    I nodded, and grasped his hand, letting him pull me up. My legs were numb under me and I staggered a bit to the table where I had left my basket. The sun had fallen while we worked, and the tent was darker. The bathing had finished, and I could see that the men were feeling better as a result. Certainly, it smelled better.
    I found the jar of fever’s foe and returned to kneel again by Joden. Simus seemed to be resting easier, his breathing a little slower and deeper.
    Joden rumbled at me. “My thanks.”
    I smiled. “Do you need tending?”
    His face seemed to close off. “No. I am not hurt.”
    Which was when the horn for the change of the guard sounded. I had overstayed my time.
    “Joden, take this.” I put the jar in his hand. Joden looked inside at the thick brown paste. “Cover your fingertip with the paste,” I dipped my finger in to show him. “Then put your finger in his mouth. Do this every hour.” I opened Simus’s mouth and put my finger inside, spreading the medicine on the roof of his mouth. “It will fight the fever.”
    He listened and watched, absorbing the information. “Will you return?”
    “Yes. Tomorrow.” I stood again, and dusted off my trous. “Prest has the orchid root. Use it if he becomes restless. But only two swallows and only once more this night. You can dose him again after sunrise if he needs it.”
    Behind me, I could hear the guard changing. They were calling for the tent sides to be dropped, and I heard my name as well. It sounded like Arneath. I hoped not.
    My patient sighed and seemed to relax a bit. Prest continued to bathe his face and arms. I reached down for the bloody cloak and the cloths I had used for the cleaning, and bundled them together. They could be boiled and used again. As I did so, I felt something cold and smooth under my hand. Through the fading light, I looked closer.
    It was an onyx brooch, a large fierce cat poised in mid-spring, with yellow eyes that glared in defiance. It seemed to gleam with its own inner light. Especially the eyes. My own eyes widened as my poor tired brain took it in. I knew what the brooch meant. This man, my patient, was a general, a leader in the Warlord’s army. Goddess. Xymund would kill him.
    My eyes darted to Joden’s. His eyes filled with consternation at my knowledge, then narrowed. His hand clenched at his side, as if looking for the handle of a dagger. If a weapon had been at hand, I am not sure I would have left the tent alive. He opened his mouth to speak as the guards approached from behind.
     

 

     
     

Chapter 2
     
    I didn’t think. I just took the brooch off the bloody cloth and slipped it into my hand.
    “Lara.” It was Arneath, Captain of the Palace Guard. There’d be no cozening him. “You must leave. Now.”
    “Yes, I know.” Arneath would take great pleasure in preventing my visits to the prisoners. He’d made it clear long ago that I, a Daughter of the Blood, demeaned myself by learning a craft. I turned, placing the remaining jars in my basket, using my body to shield as I slipped the brooch inside. I stood, the handle tight in one hand, the bundle tucked under my arm. “I’m ready.”
    Arneath stood behind me, unconvinced. I think he had been expecting an argument. I looked at Joden and spoke in his language. “I’ll return tomorrow. Do not let him try to walk or stand.” I ignored Arneath as he shifted from one foot to another, looming behind me.
    Joden’s face and tone did not change. He remained kneeling at Simus’s side. His dark eyes glittered in the remaining light. “Do not betray him, or I will break you over my knee.”
    I didn’t reply. I just turned and brushed past Arneath. Rafe nodded to me as I left, staying well back and out of the way. He had learned early on that Arneath struck hard when he was not obeyed. Arneath followed me out. “What did that last one say to you?” He looked suspicious.
    “That no matter the healer, medicines always taste terrible.”
    One of the other guards guffawed at that. Even Arneath chuckled as he held open the tent flap for me. We emerged into the twilight. The cool night air felt good after