Warsworn

once the Firelanders had started raiding up into the valley.
    Each watch fort had been heavily fortified, with stone walls and high battlements, modeled on the walls of Water's Fall. Each with a deep well and storage warehouses for food. They'd been designed to allow a contingent of warriors to be self-sufficient in times of battle. But they had all fallen victim to the one enemy they could not hold against: Time. Walls collapsed, and the locals carried off the stone to build huts and low walls to keep in their sheep and pigs. Only a very few remained intact, and most of them were closer to the border than to Water's Fall. While I'd read of them, I'd never seen one, since I'd never ventured more than a few hours from the city.
    As we approached, I could see that this was one of the last remaining forts. Strong stone walls rose around the village proper, and the gates were logs, bound in metal. I could see the plague sign on the wood. The blood was dried. Epor watched our backs as Isdra stepped forward and pounded on the gates.
    There was no response. We stood for a moment, hearing only the faint sounds of the army behind us, and the wind in the trees. I resisted the urge to look back again, to see if Keir was still watching.
    Isdra pounded again. She stood with her hands on her hips, her head cocked, listening intently.
    "Nothing. I'm going in."
    Epor grunted, and stepped forward to boost Isdra up and over the gate. Her boots scrabbled against the wood as she pulled herself over. Epor gestured me back, getting his weapon ready and facing the door. But there was only the sound of bars being pulled back, and then the one side swinging open slowly. We slipped through, and took stock of the situation. The middle of the square was quiet, with no sign of any people. In the center was a large stone well with windlass, and spare buckets so that any could help themselves to the water. The square was surrounded by buildings, all wooden and built snug next to its neighbor to fit within the stone walls. Of course, not all of the walls remained, some sections had been replaced with wooden palisades. But what should have been a village preparing for the evening meal was silent. It was quiet except for some house swallows that were squabbling over something nearby.
    Epor and Isdra were both on alert, weapons out and held high. Epor had his club, and Isdra had her shield and sword. They kept me up against the gate, ready to get me out at the first sign of trouble. But the silence continued, and no one appeared in the square.
    "The scout said someone shot at him from the walls." Epor spoke softly. Isdra nodded, and I looked up. There were small battlements on both sides of the gate that were higher than the gate itself, with two wooden ladders leading up. "I'll go." Epor said. I nodded. "I can check the—"
    "No." Isdra interrupted me firmly. "You'll stay right here." It was no more than a few steps to the ladder. Epor secured his club, and pulled a dagger before climbing up. He moved fast, choosing the one to our right first, and was standing up at the top in but a moment. He knelt, disappearing from our view, then his head popped up again.
    "There's a man up here with a bow, but I can't rouse him."
    I took a step toward the ladder, but Isdra interfered. "No, Warprize. He'll bring him down to us."
    I bit my lip in frustration, but Epor already had the man heaved up and on his shoulder. We watched as he carried him down and brought him to lay on the ground at my feet. I knelt and eased my parcels and basket down next to me. The man was older, his skin tan and weathered. I
    placed a hand on his forehead to find it cold and clammy.
    : "He's sick."
    Epor and Isdra had maintained their watch, focused out, observing the buildings for any movement. "So, it's illness?" Isdra asked, without looking at me.
    "One ill man doesn't make it so." Epor growled. "Let's wait a bit before we decide, eh? Let's check further."
    "That house, the one with the shutters. It's close and it looks like it might be a—" I paused for the right word. "A warleader's home."
    Epor snorted at my use of the word, but he got the idea. "Come."
    "But this man—"
    "Leave him." Epor's tone was hard, and I understood that he wasn't giving me an option. They moved carefully, keeping me between them as we headed to the structure. Isdra rapped on the door with her pommel, even as Epor guarded our backs. When there was no response, she kicked the door in.
    "Isdra…" I