Warsworn

them and tapped my helmet.
    Rafe tilted his head back, and roared with laughter, startling the horses. The others laughed as well.
    "So be it, Warprize." Rafe wiped his eyes and accepted two more pieces of cloth. "I will armor against your invisible foe. But I will wait until the enemy is a bit closer, eh?" Marcus and Isdra stood and without thinking, I flinched back from Marcus. But this time I caught myself. "I'm sorry, Marcus. I don't understand why—"
    "I do." He answered gruffly. "Think not on it, Lara." His eyes regarded me steadily. "The fear will fade. But not the lesson, eh?"
    "I will remember."
    Isdra had taken a step back, and put her hands on her hips to regard me. "It will serve." I felt the fool. "The enemy will die laughing."
    "So long as only the enemy dies." Marcus growled. "Up now. We need to be ready when the Warlord calls us forward."
    We mounted up, with Gils scrambling to secure the pack horse with the healing supplies. The leather jerkin was chafing at the back of my neck, and I shrugged, trying to get comfortable. How did these people wear this all the time? But then I looked over at Rafe, wiping his eyes, probably from the fumes. I sighed, and resolved to live with the discomfort of my armor. At least for now.
    As we moved out, Prest leaned over, and handed me a small wooden shield. I took it, surprised at its weight. "What am I supposed to do with this?"
    He grinned at me, his teeth white against his dark skin. "Hide behind it." Iften had moved his warforce into position, ready to strike like a sharp knife. The warriors were poised, lances rattling in the quivers attached to their saddles. Their horses were churning the ground with their hooves, eager to run. My horse, on the other hand, was drowsing, his head hanging low.
    From where I'd been positioned, I could see the village, with the 'P' on the gates, the blood now dried and brown. It looked small and vulnerable to my eyes.
    "All right, Lara. I say again, what is 'plague'?"
    Keir sat next to me on his horse, in full battle gear. Those blue eyes that had been soft and warm in our bower under the alders were cold and hard.
    Having talked to the others, I was ready for Keir's disbelief. I described a plague, and told him the precautions the village would have taken. "To a Xyian, the 'P' on the gates is a warning of horror and death."
    "We know nothing such as that." Keir offered, staring at me intently. Iften was seated next to him, but he said nothing, choosing instead to glare at me through his blackening eye. I returned Keir's look calmly, never so conscious of the gulf between us as that moment. Were we so very different? And if so, could we ever truly understand each other? My fears surged a hundredfold, for it meant that he had no understanding of what he faced. I gestured toward the village, careful to keep my head still so that the helmet would stay in place. "Keir, the plague is a danger greater than any army, and your weapons are useless against it." I'll never know why, maybe the look on my face, but thank the Goddess, Keir listened. He turned his head and looked at Rafe. "Has she told you what to do?"
    "At least ten times," Rafe flashed us a grin, his eyes still watering. "I've donned my armor, Warlord, against the Warprize's invisible foe." His voice sounded odd, what with the cloth in his nostrils and mouth. "I'm ready."
    "The skies be with you."
    With that, Rafe turned his horse, and started toward the walls at a walk. We'd gone over the various words for illness and plague, and Rafe had repeated them to me. He was to approach the gates, learn what he could, and report.
    I shifted in my saddle, making the leather creak beneath me, startling my horse. He flicked his ears back, and I patted his neck to reassure him. I'd have to think of a name for him. I looked out, and Rafe seemed to have barely advanced. Another fidget on my part drew Epor's attention. He had positioned himself on my right, by my horse's head. He turned his head so that he could see me from the corner of his eye. "Warprize, if an arrow flies, we'll head for the rear, away from the combat. Is that clear?"
    I nodded, which just made the helmet tip forward and block my vision. I pulled it back into place. "I understand."
    "A pity," Isdra's low comment came over my shoulder. "He's never tied a warprize to a tree before."
    The chuckle from the others made me smile too, a bit ruefully. Somehow I didn't think it would take much on my part to get Epor to make good