"What?" Keir frowned, glaring at the pieces. "What did I do wrong?"
I stood up. "When you figure it out, call me, and we'll play another game."
He was muttering under his breath as I left the tent.
I was doomed.
It had taken most of a day for Keir to pick up the basics. I'd gone about my business at thestilltent, returning when Keir would bellow, make my move, smile and then leave to let himcontemplate the possibilities. This frustrated him to no end. But once he learned to avoid thebasic mistakes, he started to take great childish glee in seizing my pieces and hiding them inthe rumpled bedding, chuckling over my pending defeat. I spent the next morning barelyavoiding the capture of my king. I hadn't lost to him yet, but it was only a matter of time.
Keir was gaining strength, but he was still weak. He'd manage a trip to the privy area, and thenI'd insist that he return to the bed. He made a token protest, but he leaned heavily on Marcusfor the few steps back to the bed.
But he felt and I agreed that he was strong enough to receive the reports of his warleaders. Sothere was a great deal of coming and going as the warleaders prepared to make their reports totheir Warlord. For Keir needed to see and hear as much if not more than to be seen and heard.
The warleaders needed the reassurance that he had survived the illness.
I could feel the burden of command lift from my shoulders as we crammed into the sleepingarea, even Sal, looking thinner and weaker, but determined to participate. Iften stood by Keir'sbed, shooting fairly nervous glances in my direction.
No one had the strength to talk long, so all kept their words short. Keir listened intently,asking few questions, sometimes only grunting in satisfaction. Yers's report took the longest,as Keir questioned him as to the minds of the warriors. Keir's eyes flickered with surprisewhen Yers began to speak, and his gaze traveled over the room before settling back on Yers,concentrating on his words. I suspected that Joden's absence had been noted.
My heart lifted as Gils stood confidently under the scrutiny of his superiors and reported thatthe number of the newly ill had fallen off dramatically. As proud as I was of Gils, I also felt aguilty sense of relief at his words. Relief, that it was almost over. Guilt, because so very manywere dead, and I still had my Warlord.
Gils's report put new strength into everyone. Keir gave Sal permission to range the huntingparties further afield, and resolved a few other issues before his strength started to wane. Andnot just his—the others were tired as well. The warleaders departed quickly, with Iften in thelead.
Keir reached for the chess board, but I beat him to it, removing it from his grasp. "Sleep,Keir."
He sighed dramatically, but the effect was spoiled when it changed to a yawn.
Marcus had put together a meal of fry bread, kavage, and gurt. As tired as I had grown ofthose foods while on the march, they were a welcome change from the soups and stews that wehad been eating. Isdra and Gils joined us in the stilltent, and we all dug in, eating in silence.
It was only after we were full to bursting that Gils spoke up. "Warprize, I's thinking that Iftenis saying that the illness was spread on purpose by the Xyians."
Isdra muttered something under her breath, and Marcus gave her a sharp look. "Careful,warrior. Iften is Second, and earned that rank through challenge. Twice your size, and thebetter warrior."
I stiffened, surprised to hear Marcus say something like that without a token, but Isdra merelyshrugged. Marcus scowled, and opened his mouth for a blistering comment, but there was anoise outside the tent. Isdra took advantage of the interruption. "That's Pisila, returning withMeara." She left the tent.
I looked after her, but Marcus shook his head. "Young'un, you at least listen to me, yes?"
Gils nodded. "I's staying out of his way." Gils also stood, grabbing for his satchel. "There's allthat fever's foe that we might not be needing. Maybe Sal will have wax for the sealing,Warprize."
I nodded. "Keep track of the new cases, Gils. We have to stay isolated for forty days from thelast case."
He nodded, looking serious. "I's remember, Warprize. Forty days."
Voices rose outside, Isdra's the loudest, with a sharp exclamation of anger. We all rose andwent out to find Is-dra yelling at Pisila, a younger girl, of fair skin and a serious look on herface. "Isdra, I did no wrong. She had to be marked!"
"You had no right to make the decision without the Warprize's approval!" Isdra was outraged,her hands on her hips.
Between them lay Meara in her basket, her little arms waving about, playing with a wide stripof privacy bells. I took another step and bent down to look closer, and gasped.
A tattoo. Goddess above,a tattoo.
Marcus and Gils moved and we all stood there, looking down at the smiling babe, with two thintattoos on her tiny upper arm. I confess, my voice was a shriek. "YOU TATTOOED ABABY?"
Everyone looked at me in horror, but it was Pisila that answered. "Earth, no! Warprize, Iused-"
"A stain." Marcus knelt down, holding out a finger, which Meara grabbed with glee. Hestretched out her arm for me to see that it was a stain, two thin parallel lines on her pink skin. Iremembered now, Isdra had mentioned that to me. As I looked closer, I could see that the lineswere really thin willow leaves. "With a fair hand." Marcus added, clear impressed by the work.
Pislia's smile was smug. "My thanks."
