Warprize

given clomped through the bent grass. The sun was in and out of the clouds. Pennants snapped on the poles in front of various tents, of such bright colors that I had to stop and admire them. How did they get such bright colors? I wondered if they were decorative, or had other meanings. The pole in front of Simus’s shelter had quite a few, in a wide variety of colors and shapes. One look over my shoulder told me that Marcus was still watching me. I stopped before the closed flap, suddenly uncertain. Simus might welcome a healer, but what welcome would there be for a slave?
    Before I had time to make a decision, the flap opened and
    Joden’s face appeared. It lit up when he recognized me. “I thought I heard someone out here. Come in, come in. No guards with you?” He stepped back, holding the flap open. “Simus, here’s someone new to listen to your grousing.” I ducked in and stood there blinking.
    This tent was smaller than the one I had just left. There was a back area, but the front was kind of a sitting room with wooden blocks and pillows and a large brazier in the center that gave off a low heat. Simus was on a platform, propped up on pillows and covered with blankets. He glared at me as I came through the opening, but his face cleared when he recognized me. “Little healer!” He laughed, his white teeth flashing against his dark skin. “Welcome!”
    I relaxed, and returned his smile. “Greetings, Simus. How are you?”
    Simus gestured at Joden. “I am fine, but for this ox telling me that I cannot get out of this bed.” He glared at Joden, who returned the look. “Come, take a look, and tell me what you think.”
    I knelt as Joden uncovered the wound and removed the bandage. I looked at the wound with a great deal of satisfaction. It was coming together nicely, and there was no sign of problems. “It looks well.” I started to put the bandage back in place, but Joden stopped me.
    “Let me get clean ones, Warprize.” He moved to the back of the tent and disappeared behind the flap. There was a cough outside the tent flap. “Come!” Simus called.
    A large, blond man with a scraggy beard entered the tent. “Greetings, Simus.”
    “Greetings, Iften.” Simus’s words were welcoming, but his face was reserved. I stayed where I was, daring a glance up at the big man. Not so tall as Simus, he was broad and strong, with big, rough hands. He glared down at me, then flicked his eyes to Simus’s leg. “A bad wound, Simus. Will you walk again?”
    “If he is careful,” I answered. “And follows my advice.”
    Iften stiffened, but did not respond. I could feel his eyes on the back of my neck, and they weren’t friendly. I didn’t move, staying still and silent for fear that slaves weren’t supposed to talk. I kept my eyes on Simus’s leg. Iften continued, ignoring me. “I wish words, Simus. This peace is madness.”
    “Madness? Keir has won his victory, and achieved more than any had hoped.” Simus gestured toward me with his left hand. His right was buried in the blankets, and seemed curiously stiff. “You swore oaths to Keir, knowing his plans. Are you breaking them? Or perhaps you envy him his warprize, eh?”
    Iften growled behind me. “She’s not—”
    “Have a care, Iften. You hold no token.” I darted a glance to see that Simus’s face held a deadly look, which eased as he leaned back against his pillows. “The skies were with me. The warprize saved my life and leg.” Simus stressed the word.
    Iften snorted. “Your life was saved by—” He cut off his words when Joden stepped back in, fresh cloths in his hand. Joden’s face closed off when he saw Iften. Without a word, he handed me the fresh bandages, then stepped back. I took them without comment, and started to work, aware of a curious tension between the men.
    Iften cleared his throat, reached in a pouch at his belt and pulled out a strip of small bells. “I would have words, Simus. Alone.”
    Simus kept his smile, but the look in his eyes changed. “I am speaking with the warprize, Iften. If you wish to wait…”
    Iften snarled. “I will return.” He stomped past Joden, stuffing the bells away and left quickly. Joden let out a breath I had not realized he was holding. “Simus…”
    Simus pulled his right hand out from under the blanket, turning his head to give Joden a hard look. “Pah, you worry too much. Iften is all piss and wind.”
    Joden busied himself with a container of kavage, answering in a quiet,