Warsworn

consequences, seen and unseen. Nothing I could do would bring back my friends, or repair the damage I'd created. I shook with sobs that I couldn't stop. I'd lied and everything had gone so very, very wrong…
    It was the touch of a callused hand on mine, gently tugging the cloths away from my face that brought me back. I knew it was Keir even as he knelt by my side, by his touch, by the spicy scent of his skin. I couldn't look, couldn't raise my swollen eyes to his face. For I knew what I would see there, knew what I deserved. Anger, contempt—at the very least he'd hate me for all that had happened.
    I sat, shivering, trying to stop crying, looking at my lap where his hand covered mine. He said nothing, and I tried to get my ragged breathing under control, to face the disgust that I'd see in those wonderful blue eyes. If I was lucky he'd just go away and leave me to drown in my despair.
    But those strong fingers moved and lifted my chin and I raised my gaze to face my Warlord.
     

 

     
     

Chapter 12
     
    What I found was understanding and love in those bright blue eyes.
    I broke into fresh sobs, and threw myself into his arms. Keir drew me close, pulling me to his chest with strong arms and allowing me to cling like a child. As I wept, he rocked me, drumming my back gently with his hand, which made me cry that much harder.
    "I'm so sorry, so sorry…" I snuffled my nose, and tried to breathe but I could only gasp out the words. "It's all my fault that—"
    "Hush." Keir stroked my back even as he pulled his cloak around us. The warmth of his body enfolded me and I sagged into his strength, continuing to cry.
    Keir held me for long moments, then pulled away, step-ping to the tent entrance. He closed it again, entwining more privacy bells into the ties. He returned to my side, coaxed me down to the pallet, and proceeded to wrap us in blankets, covering us with his cloak. With soft, comforting sounds, he arranged us so I was cradled in his grasp, supported by arms and legs. The bedding started to warm around us, and I finally caught my breath. He wiped the tears from my face with his hands. I lay silent, within his protection, and felt my body loosen and relax against his.
    I breathed deep, taking in the scents of the stilltent, and the spicy smell of his skin. The warmth of his body was a comfort and I let him support me, feeling my bones melt under his touch. He murmured something about the elements, but what he said didn't matter. What meant more was his touch, his strength, his love, all pouring into me without a single word. Just the sound of his heart beating under my ear, and the feel of his breath on my skin was enough. His fingers started to work their way through my hair, gently carding out the snarls and tangles.
    "You broke the bells." I kept my face buried in the blankets as he continued to stroke my hair.
    "I did."
    "Isn't that rude?" My breath hitched as I knotted my fists in the blankets.
    "Yes." His voice was the barest whisper. "But I'll let nothing stand between me and my Warprize."
    Another sob escaped me. His hands shifted and he rubbed my back, soothing me. I lay silent, trying to collect my scattered wits. I could hear the faint sounds of the camp around us, but I didn't care. Didn't want to care. I was so tired.
    'Talk to me, Lara." Keir's voice was deep and soothing and brought fresh tears to my eyes. I let them come, not trying to suppress my sorrow.
    "It's all so horrible, the sickness, so many dead and Epor, oh Keir—" I gasped for breath, and pulled my head back to look him in the eyes. "Isdra's pain is so deep. And Gils, he was just a child, he tried so hard and he's—" I couldn't finish the sentence. "I keep seeing him convulse, and the dagger—" I wailed, burying my face in his tunic. "Goddess help me, and so much worse, I bed to you, Keir. I didn't tell—"
    His fingers covered my lips and I cried until I was exhausted, so tired, my head pounding, my nose so clogged I couldn't breathe. His leather armor was smooth under my cheek, and I was sure I was getting it messy with my blubbering. Keir seemed not to care, but I did. I forced my head up, trying to ease out of comfort I had no right to. "It's all my fault, Keir." He didn't let me out of his arms. His long arm snaked out of our cocoon and grabbed up a clean cloth. He held it out to me. "Blow."
    I obeyed, and used the cloth to clean my face and wipe my eyes. He tossed it off to the side and brought his arm back into the