Warprize

done.”
    I dropped my head to her shoulder and allowed myself to be comforted for a moment.
    “We have friends beyond the mountains, where you could go, Lara.” Othur’s voice was soft. I lifted my head and looked into his worried eyes. “It wouldn’t just be Xymund that answered to the Warlord, would it? It would be the city.”
    Othur dropped his gaze. He said nothing.
    I pushed myself away from Anna and sat up. “Would it?”
    Othur looked into the fire. “Rumor has it that the Warlord is ruthless when betrayed, or when a promise is not kept.”
    Anna spoke up. “Child, you are not responsible for…”
    I looked at her, at her tear-streaked face. “What would Father have done?”
    Othur sat up at that comment. “If your father were alive he would be horsewhipping your brother through the halls and down into the stables. He’d never have pledged you without consulting you first.”
    Anna nodded in agreement, her chins jiggling. She took up a damp cloth and wiped my face. “Child, please. There is no need for this.”
    “What is the alternative? I walk away from the city? From these people? From you? And leave you to what fate, Anna?”
    I rose to my feet. Othur stood as well, and we both helped Anna get her bulk off the floor. Once she was on her feet, Othur swept me into a hug. “This isn’t over, Lara. We need to talk about this before—”
    The door slamming open brought him up short.
    It was Xymund.
    He stood in the doorway, a small chest under his arm.
    Anna covered the chamber pot with the damp cloth, and picked it up. With a nod to Xymund, she left the room. For one brief moment, I held my breath, afraid that the contents of the pot would be flung in his face. But Anna went past him without a word. Othur bowed to Xymund, then followed his wife out. He cast a glance at me as he closed the door that told me that our discussion was not over yet. Xymund placed the chest on the small table by the door.
    “The Warlord’s men brought this. His instructions are that you be bathed, oiled, and anointed with perfume. Your hair is to be down. Wear the garment that has been provided and nothing else. When summoned into the throne room, you will walk to the throne, kneel before the Warlord and extend your wrists for your chains.”
    I did not reply. I would not give him the satisfaction.
    “I have something else to give you.” He held out a small vial with a dark fluid in it. I took it, and looked at him with a question in my eyes. “It’s monkshood.”
    One of the deadliest poisons known. Takes less then a few breaths. My voice barely emerged from my throat. “What am I to do with this?”
    “The right thing.” He put his hands behind his back. “I had no choice, Xylara. My generals tell me that we could not withstand him. By doing this I save the kingdom.”
    “And your throne.” Suddenly I was very, very tired. I sat in a chair, and looked at the vial. So small. So deadly.
    “I am giving you an escape. I will leave the timing of it to your discretion.”
    I let the bitterness escape. “My thanks, to be sure.”
    He stiffened. “The best time would be after the ceremony, but before he can…” His voice trailed off, and I closed my eyes. “I know that you will do what is best for our people.” Bitterness and something even darker now lay in his tone. I looked at him and found it on the tip of my tongue to ask him why he hated me.
    I doubted that I would get an honest answer.
    He endured my look for a moment and then turned on his heel and left the room, closing the door behind him.
    The brown liquid flowed back and forth as I turned the vial in my hand. I stared at it as I turned it over and over…
    All I had ever wanted was to heal. To fix the hurts of others. A school of my own, a place to study and learn and teach, and heal. Now, I would be a…
    I swallowed as the bile rose in my throat again. I stood and started to pace in the confines of my small room. I kept going over the scene in Xymund’s study, trying to find another way, an alternative to what he had promised our enemy. Xymund’s words kept running through my head. ‘I and my nobles are to swear fealty to him. The kingdom will remain under my control and the taxes and tithes that are to be paid are reasonable and proper. All prisoners and wounded, if there are any, will be exchanged. But he has claimed tribute.’
    ‘… claimed tribute…’
    ‘… claimed tribute… ’ But there was something else,