Warsworn

how tired he appeared.
    "Gils, you are exhausted. Let me get you some kavage."
    He sighed softly. "Just had some, Warprize." His face was turned, and he was looking at the sunset. "I's just very tired."
    "Gils?"
    Without another word, his satchel slipped from his fingers, and he collapsed against me, his head on my shoulder. I put my fingers on his warm forehead and cried out for help.
     

 

     
     

Chapter 11
     
    People poured out of the tents in answer to my cries. I'd clutched Gils in both arms, trying to keep him from collapsing. Clean bottles and jars rolled everywhere as I tried to get purchase to support us.
    Yers reached us first, Isdra a breath behind. They lifted Gils off me, cradling him in their arms. As I stumbled to my feet, my gut clenched to see Gils so pale and still, as the baby had been before she…
    Others came, even Rafe and Prest gathered about us. Keir was coming as well, walking slowly with Marcus hovering at his shoulder.
    I reached my hand out, intending to feel the extent of Gils's fever. He had run himself to exhaustion helping others. Would he have enough strength to survive the Sweat?
    Gils convulsed, limbs jerking in spasms, his head thrown back, gasping for air. Yers staggered, almost dropping the lad in horror. But Isdra stepped closer to Yers, taking more of Gils's weight. They both managed to hold steady as Gils stopped thrashing as quickly as he had started.
    I froze, dread deep in my bones. Convulsions? Goddess, what was happening to him? There'd been no others with such symptoms—
    Isdra's voice broke into my thoughts. "Warprize? The lake?"
    I moved then, my hand on his forehead. Gils was warm, but not extraordinarily so. Had his work weakened him to this point? "Gils?" I called his name, but there was no reaction, no indication that he was aware. I placed my fingers at his neck, feeling a slow, weak pulse. Quickly, I checked for any kind of head wound, or perhaps he was choking. But his head showed no sign of injury and his throat was clear. There was no sign of other injury, it had to be the plague, and yet there was no odor, no real sweat on his body. But the headaches could cause these kinds of problems, if they were severe enough. A new fear gripped me. Had the Sweat changed again? Or had the Sweat came on him so fast that it was causing convulsions? I spent precious moments checking every possibility I could think of, but I had no answers. Gils's breath was rapid and labored, perhaps…
    With Yer's help, Isdra and I got the boy in the position that we could drum his lungs. If I could just clear his lungs of the fluids there—
    Again, Gils jerked in spasms. Those around us stepped back, looks of fear on their faces. I had no comfort to offer, and what was worse, I knew that no amount of cold water would cure this ill. His breathing was slowing, as was the beat of his heart. I looked around, finally focusing on Keir's face, a question in his eyes. I met his gaze, and let my tears fall, answering with a shake of my head.
    "You can do nothing?" Keir rasped as he reached us.
    "No." I ran my fingers through Gils's red curls. He didn't react, and I was desperately afraid that he was dying. "He's in the hands of the Goddess now." I stepped back, and gestured to Yers. "Bring him into the tent."
    "Grant him mercy." Keir said firmly.
    "What?" Shocked, I watched in horror as Yers and Is-dra lowered Gils into a patch of thick grass off the path. Yers unlaced Gils's jerkin, as Isdra stepped over to stand next to me. Rafe and Prest each knelt, and took hold of a leg, removing Gils's boots. Joden took Gils's left arm, and pinned it over Gils's head. Marcus left Keir's side, pulling his dagger as he drew closer.
    "No!" I cried out, leaping to stop this. But Isdra grabbed me from behind, pinning my arms, and bore me to the ground.
    "We'll not let him suffer, Lara." Keir looked at me, his eyes blue sparks under grim brows.
    "The fire warmed you." Joden began, his voice trembling.
    The others responded in unison. "We thank the elements." They pressed Gils to the earth as he convulsed again. He seemed to be fighting them, even as I fought Isdra. They couldn't do this. They couldn't!
    "The earth supported you." Joden's voice was firmer now.
    "We thank the elements."
    Marcus drew closer, but as he did, Yers looked up, and said something I couldn't hear. Marcus handed him the dagger, and they traded positions.
    "The waters sustained you."
    "We thank the elements."
    I cried out, denying