"Rest?" I asked sharply.
Marcus shrugged. "There are tales told of city folk."
"What kind of tales?'
Isdra finished the lacings on my jerkin, and stepped back to survey her work. The thick, stiffgarment hung on me like a sack. She considered me, frowning. "Maybe if we belt it around thewaist."
"No need." Epor spoke from his horse. "It's not as if she has to fight in it, just ride."
"What tales?" I demanded, impatient with them. What hadn't I been told?
Rafe answered slowly. "We would not offend, Warprize."
"Oh for Earth's sake." Isdra snorted. "We have a saying. 'Raid them for their treasures, leavethem in their filth.' There are songs of cities found with their gates closed, the people lyingdead in the streets from their filth and corruption. Punishment for their sullying of theelements." She reached over to help me wind my braid on the top of my head, and put thehelmet on. "I've walked the streets of your city, Warprize. While it was not perfect, it was notknee-deep in filth by any means."
The rags that Gils had padded the helm with slipped down to dangle in my eyes. I felt incrediblystupid, but my fear was stronger than my dignity. I focused on Rafe as Isdra stuffed the clothup under my helmet. "Rafe, when you go up to the gates, touch nothing and no one."
"Yes, Warprize."
"Gils, tear some cloth into small pieces and douse them with the oil in the green bottle."
"Aye, Warprize." Gils started to work. Isdra accepted the bracers from Marcus, placed one onmy forearm and started to tighten the lacings. I tried to stand still, but it was frustrating not tobe able to move.
"Gils, now add four drops from the slender blue bottle." I watched him dribble the scented oilout slowly. "Let me smell it."
Gils lifted the bowl to my face with two hands, wrinkling his nose. Isdra turned her head, andsneezed.
"Good," It was strong enough. "Let them sit for a bit. Rafe, if someone comes out of the gatesto talk, stay well away from them."
"Yes, Warprize."
"We'll give you some vinegar. Wash your hands and face with it after you return, before youcome back to us."
"Yes, Warprize."
"Now, take two of those cloths from the bowl, roll them up, and put them in your mouth,between the gum and cheek."
Isdra had finished with the bracers, and she knelt to tie some kind of leather over my thigh andshin. Marcus, moving slowly, knelt at my other side and did the same.
"Er," Rafe looked at the oil soaked cloths that Gils held out to him. I could smell the sharpscent of ginger from here. "Warprize, is this necessary?"
I pointed at my helmet. "Is this necessary?"
"Yes," Rafe's answer was prompt. "Death comes in an instant. All it takes is a stray arrow."
"Then so is that." I pointed at the cloth. "Oil of ginger acts to prevent the spread of thecontagion. Healers keep slices of ginger in their mouths when they treat people with theplague. This is the best I can offer."
Rafe nodded glumly, and stuffed the cloth in his mouth, screwing up his face at the taste.
"Now roll up two more pieces and put them up your nose."
They all stopped and stared at me in consternation.
I glared at them and tapped my helmet.
Rafe tilted his head back, and roared with laughter, startling the horses. The others laughed aswell.
"So be it, Warprize." Rafe wiped his eyes and accepted two more pieces of cloth. "I will armoragainst your invisible foe. But I will wait until the enemy is a bit closer, eh?"
