There was another factor, one that I didn't even want to admit to myself. The last plague toafflict Water's Fall had been the sweat some twenty years past. I'd been a babe at the time,and been told that I'd had a minor case that I'd recovered from quickly.
Could I deal with this on my own? Never mind that the supplies I had with me might not beenough, that was an entirely separate issue. Could I diagnose and treat an entire village?
My horse sensed my unease, shifted his weight and stamped his front foot. I patted him again,letting him settle down. Maybe something from theEpic of Xysonwould do. I frowned trying torecall what Xyson had named his battlesteed. Blackheart? Stoneheart? Something-heart. I hada copy with me, I'd look and see. Of course, that horse had been a warrior, a true battlesteed. Ismiled as I felt my horse shift its weight, and lower its head, clearly about to take a nap.
I felt my shoulders relax a bit too. I'd learned at the hands of Eln, a true Master of the healingarts. I'd learned the symptoms of the four major plagues, could recall their history back toXypar, some five generations back. We'd had warning before being exposed, messengers couldbe sent, help would arrive.
But like Gils, confronted by a living, breathing, wiggling patient for the first time, I had mydoubts.
"The first rule is to never let them see your doubt.' Eln's voice whispered in the back of myhead. 'You try. That is all you can do. All any of us can do.'
I smiled at the mental image of my master, but the smile faded from my face.
Rafe had reached the gates.
He seemed so small, seated on his horse before the walls. He was staying at least a horselength away from the structure. I saw him tilt his head, and call out to the villagers, the faintecho of his voice reaching us on the wind. I held my breath, but no heads appeared, no rocks,no arrows. Just silence, and the sound of the warriors around us.
Rafe called again, and then set his horse to walking back and forth in front of the gates as hestared at the wooden structure. I held my breath, and then had to breathe again and again as hestood before the walls and called. My sorrow grew as the silence did. How many were dead? Ordying?
Keir signaled to Ortis, who put his head back and warbled a cry. Rafe raised a hand, turned hishorse and headed back to us.
At the midway point, he stopped as instructed, took out the bottle of vinegar, and leaning over,washed his hands and face with it. I'd told him to repeat the action, and watched as he did itfour times. I could just make out his lips moving at this distance, and I was sure he wasinvoking each of the elements.
Once that was done he rode up to us, his face red from the scrubbing. "Warlord, there was noresponse, no sound, no movement that I could see through the chinks in the gates."
Keir nodded. "My thanks. Return to your guard duties."
Rafe grimaced, spat the cloths out of his mouth and snorted them from his nose. "Warlord, I'dask leave to go plunge myself in the nearest stream. The Warprize's precautions are almostmore that a warrior can bear." He looked at me through swollen eyes. "That's a truth,Warprize, whether or not I hold your token."
Keir nodded his approval, and Rafe took off like a startled bird.
"So." Keir looked out at the village. "Iften."
"Warlord."
"Disband the warforce. Tell Wesren to make camp for the night, away from these walls. In thefields beyond that willow, perhaps. His decision."
Iften glowered, but made no objection. He turned his horse and left us, calling to his men.
Keir continued to sit, staring at the village as the war-force melted away. "Brave people, toenclose themselves within those walls and wait for death." A shudder went through him. "Idoubt I could do the same."
"Wait for death?" I replied, sharper than I intended. "Not if I can help it."
"How so?" Keir asked mildly. I wasn't fooled, for his gaze was sharp. "How can you helpthem?"
"By going in there, of course."
Keir gave me a long, incredulous look. I returned it unflinchingly. There was no change in hisexpression, he just reached out and grabbed the reins near my horse's chin. "No." Withoutanother word, he turned the horses and started to follow the warriors. Marcus and the othersmoved into position around us.
"Keir—"
"No, Lara." He didn't even look at me as he led the horses forward.
I threw my leg over, grabbed the saddle with both hands and slid to the ground. My horse'space was enough that I stumbled back a step or two as I landed, enough to throw Prest's horseoff his stride. Isdra got hers stopped and the look she gave me almost made me laugh out loud.
But Keir's face choked off my mirth. His face was a storm cloud building in the sky, dark andangry, and his eyes the lightning. He dismounted and stalked over to me, leaving the horses tostand where they were.
Prest leaned down to push a strip of privacy bells into my hand. I closed my fingers aroundthem, but never took my eyes off Keir.
