Warprize

tell?”
    “Smell.”
    He drew in a breath through his nose, which wrinkled in disgust. “That’s the smell?”
    I nodded as I tied off the bandage.
    He seemed to think for a minute. “I’s need get back, they’ll be looking for me. I’s be back later, with some soup and bread.” He took a step away, then turned back. His brown eyes focused on me thoughtfully. “You’re not like a warrior-priest, is ya?”
    “I am a healer.”
    He looked confused, but smiled anyway. “I’s can ask ya questions? You don’t mind?”
    “Of course I’ll answer your questions.” I looked up into his eager face and had to smile. “What’s your name?”
    “I’s Gils.” He grinned, “I’s be back with the supper.” Off he went, whistling down the path. At last, we were done. Each man was warm, clean, treated, and fed. Time to start the last chore. I started at the far end of the tent and worked my way toward the entrance, carefully taking each slop pot and emptying it into a large bucket that looked to be for that purpose. I then took the bucket by the handle and walked it out of the entrance of the tent, passed the slackers, who were by the large fires trying to look busy. And innocent. On my first trip, one had approached me to help, but I had glared him off. Now they just sat and watched. Each time I walked past, they seemed to sink lower in their seats by the fires.
    I emerged from the tent with the last bucketful to a sky faintly tinged with pinks and yellows. I didn’t even glance to the sides, but set my weary eyes on the latrine. A slight noise distracted me, and I looked off to the side to see the slackers standing there at attention, looking rather pale. From behind me I heard a cough, and I turned quickly. Too quickly, as the bucket slopped over on to my trous. There sat Keir on his warhorse, all black leather and armor, leaning forward, arms crossed on the saddle before him, looking angry and grim.
    I blinked.
    He raised an eyebrow, and spoke in a calm and even tone. “Would someone care to explain why the warprize is cleaning slop pots?”
    I drew myself up, being careful with the bucket this time. “Because these bragnect are not worthy of the task.” There were gasps from behind me. I ignored them. I turned and headed to the latrine to finish my task.
    I’d have to remember to ask Joden what that word meant.
    When I had finished my job and rinsed the empty bucket, I turned and walked back up the rise. The Warlord was still there by the tent. The warriors that had been standing there were gone. Keir dismounted, secured his horse, and followed me into the tent without a word. I stood there for a moment surveying my handiwork. The tent smelled clean and fresh, and the men were resting in comfort. Keir moved past me, and started talking to his men, moving through the tent with ease. I went over to a stool near where they stored what medicines they had, and started sorting them. At least, that was what I pretended to do. Instead, I watched my master. I really hadn’t had a chance to see him clearly. Well, other than this morning. My face warmed at the thought. He moved among them with no ceremony, no formality. Even knelt to speak to the whipped warrior. While the movements of other warriors were controlled and powerful, he was different. There was a flow, a grace that I had not seen before. The way he grasped one man’s hand, how he would tilt his head and listen to another. And one breathtaking moment when he smiled at a comment and his face relaxed into a thing of beauty.
    Which made my role as sex slave even more wildly absurd. Especially with women like the blonde around, tall and strong and… ample. With women warriors like that wandering the camp, how did one brown-haired, short and… well… less than ample warprize compare?
    He finished, stood and looked around. I looked back down at the various bottles and jars and really had no idea what was in them at all. As he walked over to me, it suddenly occurred to me that I had not done as Marcus had bidden me. I stood when he approached, but kept my head down.
    “There will be men coming with the evening meal who will tend these men.”
    I looked up quickly, scowling.
    “Different men, not the ones that were here earlier.” Keir looked around. “Our supper is waiting for us.”
    He held open the flap and waited for me to go first. I paused and looked up at him. He just stared back, noncommital. No anger that I could see. I stepped through