Warsworn

startled me, but I felt my anger too, at a disease that I knew little about and had no way to defeat.
    The man kicked over the brazier of fire, and stomped out the flames. The woman overturned the brazier of water, and then did the same to the one with the earth, stomping the clods flat to the ground.
    The brazier of air received the same treatment. Their hands moved to dissipate the smoke that rose from the coals. Their angry howls filled the air, and with a final beat of the drum, they dropped to their knees, and embraced one another.
    I was crying openly now, sobbing in my anger and pain. Keir produced the bundle of clean cloths he'd brought from the tent. I fumbled with one to clean my face, when the silence was broken by another drum beat, and Joden, calling out to the people.
    "Death and pain are a part of life. But not all of it, People of the Plains! Joy is also there, to be enjoyed and shared! Rejoice!"
    I looked up to see the dancers moving, embracing one another, kissing, rubbing their…
    I blinked.
    The drumbeat was getting faster, and the dancers moved with it, their hands stroking one another, removing their torn clothing. The man was kissing the woman's neck and…
    Goddess.
    I looked away, only to discover from the movement around me that the dancers weren't the only ones seeking 'comfort'. People were embracing their neighbors, hands reaching out, clothing being removed, caresses being exchanged. There were two men near us, and to my amazement, one reached for the other, stroking and kissing and…
    I hid my face against Keir's chest.
    He drew the blanket up over my head, chuckling softly. "My shy one."
    "Keir," I whispered in his ear. "Men with men?"
    He shrugged. "Each to their own preference. It's not one I share." He helped me to my feet, then swept me up and started toward our tent.
    I pressed my face to his neck, hiding my eyes, embarrassed by what was happening, but also embarrassed at the heat growing within me, a hunger for him, for life. I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I'm sorry, Keir. I know this is your way, but—"
    "It is not yours." I felt the movement of his head as he nodded his understanding. "They but celebrate life, Lara." His breath tickled my ear.
    "I don't mind celebrating life." A laugh escaped me as he picked up his pace. "Just in the privacy of my own tent."
    "As you wish, my Warprize." His voice was low and hungry and I felt my own desire flare within me.
    We'd reached the entrance, and I was so distracted by the look on his face that I didn't see Marcus standing there until he spoke. "Warlord."
    Keir turned, and my stomach dropped as I saw the look on Marcus's face. "Oh no," I whispered. "Not the Sweat. Please, Marcus, don't tell me it's returned."
    "No, Lara." His face held a strange look of regret. "It's not the disease." They'd found Isdra sprawled on the ground, a dagger in her stomach up to the hilt. There was a lot of blood, and she had a puzzled expression on her face. I didn't have to touch her to know that she was dead, but I did it anyway. There was warmth in her flesh, but no life.
    "No, no, she promised to stay with me." I cried as Keir pulled me back to his side. Marcus had come with us, and he'd managed to find Rafe and Prest as well. I looked at Marcus. "She promised, Marcus."
    "Epor's call was stronger, Warprize."
    "As it should be." The Warrior-Priest walked up. "Her place was at her bonded's side."
    "I would have done the same." Keir said.
    I looked at him in horror, but he met my eyes calmly. I looked away, angry at his acceptance.
    "Before, she was ready for it—even offered Epor's weapon to Prest. Why would she do it this way?" I scowled, wiping my tears with my hands, then turned to look at Prest. "Do you believe this?"
    Prest let his eyes flicker over the crowd that had gathered, but said nothing. With a long step, he took the war-club off of Isdra's body, and walked away.
    The sun was rising as we prepared to depart.
    As was her preference, Isdra was given to the sky. A platform was erected, with her naked body exposed to the elements. At my insistence, they'd placed it in the center of the burned village, by the stone well. As close to where Epor had burned as I could arrange it. I'd dug through my supplies to find those few dried lavender flowers to place around her body. Joden chanted a soft, sad song in the crisp, cold air.
    I stood there in the blackened ruins. I'd known, of course, that the village was being used for the pyres of the