Warprize

learn new words as I translated. Rafe and Prest took their positions back at the entrance, but when I saw them straining to hear, I raised my voice slightly. There was silence when I finally stopped and closed the book. Atira cleared her throat. “I’m not sure what your custom is, Warprize. Normally we would give thanks to the singer.”
    “Thanks is good.” I stood and stretched. “I’m glad to share it with you. But now I am hungry. Is the nooning close?”
    Gils jumped up. “I’s be checking.” He darted out the door and ran into someone coming in. “Sorry, Warlord!”
    “Watch where you’re going, boy,” came the gruff response. Rafe and Prest stood as Keir entered the tent. His face was clear of the anger he had shown this morning. “How goes it with—” He stopped abruptly when he saw the book in my hands.
    It was time to confess. “I bought this with your coin yesterday.” I smoothed one hand over its cover nervously. “It’s an old story called The Epic of Xyson. I thought it would distract—”
    “You’re reading to my people?” The surprise in his voice was clear. I nodded. “I also bought a primer. A teaching tool. So that I could teach Gils to read my book on herbs.”
    I chanced a glance at his face.
    Keir looked very satisfied. “You would teach him?” He moved over to gaze down at Atira. “Could she learn as well?”
    “Yes.” I nodded. “If she is willing.”
    Atira’s eyes got even bigger. “Warlord, at your command, I’ll try.”
    Keir narrowed his eyes, nodding. “That is all I ask, Warrior. This is no easy horse to master, but it would please me for you to learn.”
    She nodded her acceptance of the charge.
    Keir arched an eyebrow. “I’ve announced a pattern dance for tomorrow night.”
    Atira brightened, but her face fell quickly. “I’ll miss the dancing, but it’s my pattern they’ll be weaving.”
    There was pride mixed with the disappointment.
    Keir smiled. “If Simus can be carried to the senel, why not you?”
    I frowned, considering. Keir watched me, focused on my face. “Explain to her, Warrior. Tell her why it is important to you.”
    “Warprize, it’s an honor to be asked to design the pattern.” Atira pleaded with voice and eyes. “To not see my first pattern woven, it’s like a dagger thrust here.” She put her hand over her heart.
    “The leather has dried and hardened. If we are careful, and if you swear that you will not move, and let yourself be carried…”
    “All that, all that, I swear, Warprize.”
    Atira was so serious, so earnest, that I had to smile.
    “Well then, if all is well here, I have something to show you.” Keir tugged on my sleeve and pulled me toward the entrance. Prest and Rafe were also standing there, grinning like fools. I gave them a narrow look. “What’s going on?”
    “Nothing.” The reply was in unison. My skepticism must have been obvious, because they all laughed. The day had turned overcast, and held the promise of rain. Keir took me by the shoulders and turned me to walk around the corner of the tent. Prest and Rafe were slightly ahead of us. There was a second, smaller tent there, that had been put up recently. I looked at Keir, who smiled. Prest and Rafe stood next to the tent flap. “Look!” said Rafe as he pulled the flap aside. Keir gave me a light push and I entered the tent. They followed.
    I stood there, stunned.
    There were all the supplies that I had requested, crates of them, everything that I had asked for, and…
    Stillroom equipment. I moved forward, eyes open in wonder. There were flasks, and bowls, and mortar and pestle, and small braziers, and jars and bottles. They covered the three tables in the tent. I turned and stared at Keir. He was smiling, looking back at me. Prest and Rafe were laughing.
    “When did you do this?”
    Keir grinned. “Last night and this morning. When you told me of a ‘stillroom’ and what it contained, I sent Sal to your friend Remn. They gathered what I wanted and what was needed. Now, you have a ‘
    stilltent’, yes?” His smile faded as he looked around. “I had not thought… these items are fragile. We will need a way to carry it when we move.” He moved around the small tent as he thought. “I will talk to Sal and see what she thinks.”
    I stood there, a tangle of emotions. Joy at the gift. Fear at the idea of leaving. I laid a shaking hand on Keir’s arm. “Thank you.”
    He smiled down at me. “I would help, but Warren is