Warprize

the cut.”
    Isdra wiped her blade clean on her trous and sheathed it, then used her fingers to press the mass to the cut. The leaves turned color almost immediately as it drank up the blood, changing to a pale green. Gils craned his head to see, and Isdra lowered her hand to let him get a good look. At my nod, she pulled the leaves away. The skin was healed, with only an angry red line left to show she’d been hurt. Isdra held her hand up to show the others, and let the used leaves fall to the ground. Prest and Rafe were clearly impressed, and Rafe started to gather the crop in earnest. Gils knelt, staring at the bloody leaves intently. I watched for a minute, then smiled. “Gils, I don’t think it will take root while you watch.”
    “Oh.” He was clearly disappointed as he started to gather more.
    “And what do we have to be careful of when we use this plant?” I asked him gently. He frowned a bit, then his face cleared. “Not to use it on a dirty wound. It will seal the dirt inside, if you are not careful.” He bit his lip. “I could not have used it on your feet.”
    Marcus grunted at that. “Does it have to be fresh?”
    “I was told that it works just as well dried, just not quite so quickly.”
    “I can think of other uses.” Isdra smiled slyly. “It would be handy at moon times. Would it grow on the Plains?”
    I flushed even as I shrugged. She spoke so casually about something that wasn’t discussed out loud by my people.
    Epor had dismounted, and was looking at the leaves he was holding. His horse nosed his hand, but threw its head up when he offered it the leaves. “Would it work on a horse?”
    “Why is it always about horses with you people?” I snapped, suddenly irritated. There was an uncomfortable silence. The surprised looks on their faces made my pique vanish. I looked down at Marcus’s back and mumbled. “I don’t know.”
    Gils, bless his youth, was oblivious. “How much will you want, Warprize?” His arms were filled with his pickings.
    “As much as we can take.” I looked around, amazed to see that the little plant was spread through the grass as far as I could see. “Two handfuls in each warrior’s kit would be useful in case of injury.”
    Gils quickly handed out his crop, making sure that each had at least two handfuls. Even Marcus took a supply. Gils placed his own in his saddlebags and then mounted. “I’ll pass the word, Warprize. Two-handfuls”
    “Tell them to dry it well, Gils.” I called after him as he galloped off. “We’ll see to Cadr once we stop for the night.”
    Rafe mounted up as well, and Marcus headed us back toward the army at a more sedate walk. “Hisself will not like his warriors stopping to pick posies.”
    “They all have to pass water at some point, don’t they?” I pointed out. Rafe laughed, but Marcus just grunted.
    As we returned to our position in the flowing mass of warriors, Marcus was careful to thread his way back into the direct center. Rafe and Prest rode ahead of us a little ways, and Epor and Isdra faded behind us. They didn’t really try to maintain any kind of positions, since there were warriors all around us. I shifted, trying to get comfortable, and tried not to sigh in Marcus’s ear. Marcus must have heard me, for he cleared his throat. “Epor meant no offense, Warprize.”
    “I know, Marcus.”
    I yawned, tired now that the excitement was over. It had been a brief change from the monotony of the days since Keir had taken me up on his horse and re-claimed me as his Warprize. I fingered the leaves that I still held in my hand. Eln would be so pleased to hear that bloodmoss thrived in this area. I could send him a plant with the next messenger, dig it up, roots and all, and wrap it in wet cloth. Even his dour face would crack with a smile at the sight. I’d laugh to see it—except that I wouldn’t be there. Suddenly, it all seemed too much. A flood of sickness rose up in my body, a sickness of the heart for which there was no cure. I was all to familiar with this feeling, for I was sick for my home, for the castle and the people that I’d left behind in Water’s Fall. For Anna’s stew and Heath’s teasing, and my old room with its four familiar stone walls. I sighed again, trying not to feel sorry for myself and failing.
    “You’ve not been yourself, Warprize.” Marcus had his head turned, and I could just see his nose and lips under the hood of the cloak. His voice dropped to a low gentle tone.