Warsworn

purging her body of the bad water, when she coughs. Is that right, Warprize?"
    I nodded. "Again."
    Marcus flinched back, but Keir adjusted his hold on my body. "I'll do it." His warm hand gently tapped on my back.
    It worked, although I almost wished it hadn't. The cough was harsh and rough, and my chest ached. Gils wanted to give me one of my cough remedies, but everything in my supplies would sooth the cough, not encourage it.
    We settled into a routine of having someone drum my back every hour. That gave me time to recover enough for the next bout. With every session, I could feel an improvement in my well-being. But it was an agony, and Keir took to bribing me with treats to get me to cooperate. Not that there were many treats to be had in our little camp. But I took great pleasure in watching him play with the babe, making faces and silly noises. Odd how a Warlord, so fierce in combat, could make a baby coo.
    "Letters have come. From Water's Fall."
    I looked over at him, standing in the entrance of the tent. He seemed pleased with himself for some reason. Marcus was behind him.
    "They threw them to us, Lara, so no contact, as I promised. Gils is trying to read Simus's for us." He moved closer, pulling back my bedding. "But first you must cough."
    "I'm so tired, Keir."
    "I know. But each time there's less pain, less water. You are doing better." Keir opened his arms and I moved into them. He helped me into position, and I rested my head on his chest for just a moment, enjoying his strength. He paused, and pressed me close to his heart.
    "You're still well?" I asked, worried that he'd start to sicken before my eyes.
    "We are all well, Lara." Keir's hand rubbed a warm circle on my back. "Marcus, Isdra, the babe, Gils, we are all well. Stop fretting so."
    With that, he started to drum my back, and I began to cough. Maybe it was his warmth, or his soft words of encouragement but this time seemed easier than the others, and it was over quickly. Marcus came in to help settle me back into the bed. Keir eased in behind me, to help prop me up, and Marcus fussed over the bedding.
    Once I was established, Marcus provided hot kavage. Isdra stepped in, the babe in her arms. The child was gurgling and kicking, happy and well. That alone put a smile on my face. But I frowned as well. How was it that the child was so healthy?
    More to the point, how did she stay healthy? She'd spent hours next to her dead mother, time with us in the village, and had been in this tent with me during that time. Yet here she was, plump and pink, and no trace of fever. In my experience, children were the first to succumb to illness. What was different here?
    Keir interrupted my thoughts. "Is he ready?" Keir asked.
    Isdra smiled, and stepped aside to sit next to Marcus on a stump. I looked at Keir questioningly, but he simply pointed to the tent entrance.
    To my surprise, the flap was pulled roughly aside, and Gils leaped in, striking a pose, his fists on his hips, his legs wide apart, and his chest puffed out. I smiled, recognizing Simus in the stance. But what looked powerful on a tall, muscular man with black skin looked terribly silly on a gangly youngster.
    "HEYLA, little healer." Gils boomed out, trying to deepen his voice. "These are the words of Simus the Hawk, and they are written even as I speak them!"
    I had to laugh out loud at that, and looked up into Keir's face. While there was no smile, his eyes were crinkled in the corners, and I could see the laughter hidden there. I leaned back, safe in his arms, and watched as Gils struck another pose, gesturing with one hand.
    "All is well within the stone tents of Water's Fall. Have no concern for your people. Although your Council talks too much, and have sent you many dry words on paper. Do not read them. I have told all that their senels waste breath and sunlight. Othur turns bright red when I say so, and Warren laughs and laughs."
    Gils started to pace, swaggering back and forth in front of the bed. I covered my mouth not wanting to hurt his feelings, but from the side glances he gave me, I
    knew that he was trying to make me laugh. So I did, loud and clear, as he continued.
    "One of the council is worth her words, one Mavis. A fine woman. She fancies me." Keir snorted.
    "Our people have settled here with not too much trouble. The stone walls make us all uneasy. There have been only a few fights, and no deaths that I know of, although Eln of the Healers has sharp words for me each time I see