Joden didn't meet my gaze.
"Joden?" I asked, suddenly aware of a change in my friend.
He looked at me, his normal serenity gone. "I will not support Keir before the Elders,Warprize. I will speak against him."
"Against him? A-a-against me?" Stunned, I could barely get the words out.
His face softened. "No, Lara, not against you. But," he looked out over the area, as ifgathering his thoughts. "It seems like a lifetime has passed since I crouched at Simus's sideand saw to his wound. Tradition demanded that I grant mercy, to prevent his suffering andevade capture."
"But you didn't kill him."
"No," He turned then to look me in the eye, his gaze filled with pain. "I tried to bind his wound,and we were captured."
"Which brought Simus under my care, and to my meeting Keir." I smiled. "We should thankyou for that, Joden."
"Would you thank me for these deaths as well?"
His question sucked the very breath from my body. "Joden…"
"You saved the life of my friend," Joden continued, his voice cracking. "You became theWarprize, bringing gifts of your knowledge. But all I see as a result is death. Ugly,dishonorable death."
"You blame me." I whispered.
Haunted eyes looked into mine. "You are a gentle, caring soul, Xylara. I can lay no blame onyou." His face hardened and his hands formed fists. "I blame Keir's ideas of combining ourpeoples and their ways. What happened here speaks to me of the dangers of his leadership."
I swallowed hard. What had happened here… I blinked back tears.
"What can I say to you, Lara?" Joden's voice, his lovely voice cracked. "You gave me hopewhen you saved the life of Simus, and more hope when I understood your willingness tosacrifice yourself for your people."
"But now my people lie dead, and the smoke rises to the skies. Precious lives have been lost,and I can't but think they are lost because Keir is trying to go against the elementsthemselves."
Joden shook his head. "Keir asks that you become of the Plains, and demands that we be ofXy. No good has, or will, come of it." Joden took a breath. "My decision is made. Excuse me,Warpr—" He stopped himself. "Excuse me, Xylara. I must tell the Warlord of my truths."
Joden's voice was soft, but he turned and left me without another word.
* * *
I returned to my stilltent to find Isdra sitting inside, reworking the leather on the handle ofEpor's warclub. Her hands stroked the smooth leather, as if it was precious.
With leaden steps, I moved to stir the coals in one of the small braziers, adding fuel, losingmyself in the task of warming kavage. I said nothing, and Isdra was silent as well, both of uslost in memories of a golden-haired man with a ready smile.
I dropped on a stump and watched the pot, numb and tired. For just a few moments, the onlything I wanted to think about was kavage. Not sickness, or challenges, or failure…
Or death.
Isdra finished the wrapping and secured the ends of the leather strip. She sat for a moment, herhands resting lightly on the weapon in her lap.
Isdra quietly started to cry.
I knelt beside her, leaned my head against her arm, and offered what comfort I could.
The rattle of the pot forced my attention back to the world around us. I poured kavage as Isdrawiped her face. She took the mug I offered, and we drank in silence.
I broke the silence. "The other day, Marcus told me 'the sun will rise. I can offer no more, andno less'."
"It should not." Isdra whispered, staring into her kavage. "It should hide itself in sorrow andmourn." She lifted her head to gaze at me. "My life is broken, yet the world goes on aroundme. As if it had never happened. As if he had never been." She drew a stuttering breath.
"Never to hear his voice again, or feel his touch. Not until I—"
