We were both startled when Simus replied. “It’s well, little healer.” Simus entered the tent, grinning at me. “If it can take me running to the healing tent and crawling on the ground, then I think I can walk on it well enough.”
“Simus…” I chided.
His teeth gleamed in a smile. “It’s not like I’m going to join in the dancing today.” His face turned serious. “How’s the arm?”
“I’m fine.” I smiled at him. “Gils is seeing to me.”
Gils stood, gathering his supplies. “I’s see you at the dance, Warprize. I’s chores to do before then.”
Simus sat on the bed, next to me. “Marcus! I need kavage!”
I looked at them both. “I thought the dance was canceled.”
Gils stood. “Oh no, Warprize, the Warlord announced it late last night.” A slight noise from the privy and he was out and gone.
Marcus brought kavage for both of us, and grimaced at Simus. “I suppose you’ve not eaten yet?”
Simus laughed.
Marcus scowled. “I’ve bare enough for these two, much less fill your belly.”
Keir emerged, dried and dressed. “Simus, join us.”
Simus smiled broadly.
Marcus huffed and left. Keir, Simus, and I pulled up stumps and dug into the food. For many minutes, there was only the sound of chewing and dishes being passed. The bowl of gurt was offered to me a number of times, but I politely declined. Simus leaned back first. “Never could figure out how Marcus manages such good food in camp.”
“Years of practice,” Marcus said as he returned with more kavage and served us all. “There’s not much time before the dance starts.”
Keir nodded. “Any word from Warren or Xymund?”
Simus shook his head. “No.”
Keir scowled, but said nothing as we rose to leave. He merely wrapped his cloak around me, and made as if to sweep me up in his arms. “I can walk.” I fought him off as I also tangled with the smothering cloth as best I could, trying to pull it up so that I wouldn’t trip.
Simus stifled a laugh. I looked up to see that his eyes were dancing with mirth. “You look like a child playing with her thea’s cloak.” I laughed, curious as to the meaning of the word, but Simus held out his arm for me. “Warprize.”
Keir growled, and swept me up into his arms, stomping out of the tent. I looked behind to see Simus rolling his eyes and following behind with Marcus.
The sky was clear when we emerged and headed for the gathering area. The entire camp seemed to be headed in that direction, everyone armed. It didn’t look as if they were going to a dance. I wrapped my arms around Keir’s neck. “Will everyone be at the dance?”
“No.” Keir slowed his walk to allow Simus to catch up with us. “The watches will rotate.” His voice lowered. “I believe you would call that a ‘compromise’.”
The flat area in front of the wooden platform had been cleared and the area was ringed with a circle of unlit torches. We made our way onto the platform, and sat close to the front. There was no formality. We took our seats even as bodies milled in the space in front of the platform. Simus remained standing, looking off into the crowd. He laughed, then pointed. “Here they come.”
Looking out, I could see that someone was being carried on a cot, much like Simus had been carried to the senel. It was Atira, laying flat on the cot as some of her friends carried her through the crowd. The stones had been removed, but her leg was still in a cast.
“Bring her up here.” Keir called out, and the cot started to head toward the platform.
“Warprize!” Atira called out when they drew nearer. “Are you well?”
“Very well. How’s your leg?” I asked, curious to see how the leather was holding up.
“It itches.” She complained as they brought her cot up and placed it next to me, so that she had a good view of the grounds. “That grey one came and looked at it, and seemed pleased. Gils has been watching it too.” She smiled at me as she propped herself up. “I’m glad to see that you are well. Scared me to the snows, let me tell you, you being attacked.” She looked around. Keir was kneeling at the edge of the platform, talking to a few of the warriors. She dropped her voice and continued. “I managed to throw a knife and take one out, but got knocked to the ground before I could do more. It was the Warlord’s raging that saved our hides.”
“Were you there when he…” I let my voice trail off, unsure how to ask the question.
“When he was standing over you?” She rolled her eyes. “Aye, half under my cot and fearing to breathe. I
