Atira looked up, puzzled by my reaction. “Aye, Warprize. Before any can enter military service, they must first bear or breed five children for the theas.”
“Of course.” I answered faintly. There was a roaring in my ears. Keir had similar tattoos. Five children?
Different mothers?
Atira reached for my hand, concern in her eyes. “Warprize?”
“Do you raise your children?”
“Skies blessing, no!” Atira laughed. “What would I know of tending babes? Theas do that, in the safety of the Plains. Three months of milk is more than enough for me.”
“Were you… did you… marry the fathers?” I had to use the Xyian word.
Atira frowned. “Marry?” I explained as best I could, and she chortled, shaking her head. “No, Warprize.
Bonding is for later, if I meet the right person. Those matings were for the tribes, to flourish the tribes.
You understand?”
Dazed, I think I nodded my head.
Atira settled back, satisfied. “Now I say ‘I thank you for your truth’, and the ritual is complete.” She yawned.
Concern for my patient cut through my confusion. “Sleep, Atira.”
She nodded, and I moved away to check the others, my hands steady, but my thoughts tumbled. Sure enough, each one had similar tattoos on their arms. I worked about the tent as my patients dozed, thinking hard about not thinking about Keir’s five children. Or the five women that had borne him five children. Or the fact that I might be required to bear five children.
Thankfully Gils interrupted my musings, showing up with dinner for my patients. There was another man with him, who walked up to me with a wry grin. “Greetings, Warprize.”
“You’re Yers. From the senel.”
“Aye. Gils is one of my group.” He shook his head. “Knocked me off my horse, making his request that way.” He lowered his voice as Gils moved about with the food. “Solved a problem, to be honest. Gils gives his best, mind, but he’s not a natural fighter.”
“He’s so young.”
Yers nodded. “Younger than most. Triplets twice, if you can believe.”
I blinked. “Triplets.” Sure enough, a quick glance showed me the six tattoos on his left arm.
Yers raised his voice. “He’ll do well enough for you, Warprize, but I’ll not let him slack his duties. Here, now,” he called to Gils. “Done?”
Gils nodded.
“Then we’re off.” Yers gave me a wink. “You’ll have him again in the morning.”
I wasn’t hungry, so I made sure that everyone had what they needed and returned to my small table, more to think then to accomplish anything. The differences between us seemed so vast. I almost laughed out loud to think of the Archbishop’s reaction. Five children, with no blessing of the Goddess. But then I stopped. Did that mean they were free to lay with each other at any time? If so, what need was there for a warprize?
A cough interrupted me. I turned to find a stocky woman standing there, skin brown and weathered, her short hair a pale white. “Warprize. The Warlord has directed me to find out what your supply needs are.
I am Sal, supply master.”
I stood. “Sal, I am glad to see you. I had hoped to have a list ready, but…”
Sal snorted, then sat. “What good would that do? Tell me what you need.”
“Well, if you know what the former healer used, I can work off those items.”
Sal looked at me, her hands on her knees. “Warprize, the Warrior-priest would not have deigned to speak to me, let alone tell me his needs.”
