Warsworn

the swords. Those blue eyes, cloudy with fever, watched as Marcus left the tent.
    Keir looked at me with a grimace. "You must restrain me."
    I sat at the side of the bed, and put the back of my hand against his forehead. The heat was starting to rise. "Not just yet, Keir."
    Keir brought one bare arm out from under the covers and curled it around me, trying to pull me down onto his chest. I went willingly, taking comfort from his closeness.
    "So. You are cursed."
    The smug voice came from behind us. I turned my head to see Iften standing there behind me, Isdra and Gils just visible behind him. Isdra was glaring at the back of Iften's head, and Gils did not appear to be pleased with him either. I stood slowly, feeling uneasy with my back to the man. Iften stood there and oozed his glee, making no secret of his pleasure at Keir's condition. Keir had his eyes closed, his hair plastered to his head. He didn't bother to open his eyes.
    "Iften. You have command until I am through this."
    "But not the tent." Marcus growled as he entered from his quarters, bring a bucket of cold water, and cloths.
    Iften shot him a hateful look. "As if I need the tent, crip—" He cut himself off, then—pasted a satisfied smile on his face. "Have no fear, Warlord. I will summon the warleaders and inform them of this." He turned, and moved to push past Isdra.
    "Hold, Iften." I snapped. How dare he treat Keir that way?
    Iften stopped, then turned slowly. "Yes?"
    "You may summon them, but I will speak to them for Keir."
    Iften's brown eyes flashed. "I am Second."
    I drew myself up straight, and gave him a glare right back. "I am the Warprize, Iften." Iften's eyes were filled with hate, but he bowed his head, turned and left, pushing past the others.
    "May the elements afflict him." Marcus muttered.
    Isdra nodded her agreement as she and Gils entered. Gils was fumbling in his satchel, pulling out the items that we would need.
    "This is not an affliction. Or a curse." I reminded him gently. "It's an illness." The cold cloth in my hand, I sat back down and began to wipe Keir's brow.
    Keir turned his head and opened his eyes to look at me, catching my hand. "Singers will praise my Warprize for a thousand years to come." His eyes were shining with the fever. Guilt rose in my breast. It was more likely I'd be known as the woman who killed an entire village and army with her arrogance and pride. "No. No, they won't." Gils handed me the cup with the dose of sleepease, but Keir pushed it away, and turned to Isdra. "I have no right to ask this of you, but I am going to. Not as Warlord, but as a friend. Please—"
    "There is no need to ask." Isdra cut him off, putting her hand on her sword hilt. "I will see her safe before I go to the snows."
    "As will I." Marcus added.
    "As will I." Gils echoed, his voice cracking. Keir looked at him oddly. "No, Warlord, I do understand. Better than you think."
    Keir nodded. "My thanks." Nothing more was said, but I let my confusion go as Keir reached for the cup with shaking hands. I helped him, and he drank it quickly, grimacing at the taste. Something about that teased at my memory as he smiled at me and spoke.
    "I will fight this."
    The bile rose in my throat as he repeated Epor's very words. I jerked my head up, meeting Isdra's eyes, which held the same horror that mine did. But the others did not know and I managed to control my face before they could see.
    Keir was relaxing, letting the sleepease do its work. "Warprize." I leaned over him. "Keir?"
    "As Warlord, and Overlord of Xy, I command your obedience to my will. Return to Water's Fall."
    I lowered my lips to his ear. "My heart's fire, there is only one way to make me obey your command."
    He turned his head slightly, his eyes unfocused. But I could see the question in his eyes.
    "Live."
    That heady feeling of command that I'd had a few days before had been replaced with bone-chilling terror. The warleaders, or their representatives, were looking to me to make decisions that affected an entire army. I felt the weight of that responsibility press down on me, knowing for the first time the burden Keir carried with him every day. I'd asked Joden to attend as well, hoping that his presence would help. But he stood to the side, and kept his eyes fixed on the ground before him.
    The wind blew my hair into my face, and I pulled it back with one hand. We were outside the command tent, standing in a loose circle, as many as could gather. Iften stood to the side. Prest