Once I was established, Marcus provided hot kavage. Isdra stepped in, the babe in her arms. The child was gurgling and kicking, happy and well. That alone put a smile on my face. But I frowned as well. How was it that the child was so healthy?

More to the point, how did she stay healthy? She’d spent hours next to her dead mother, time with us in the village, and had been in this tent with me during that time. Yet here she was, plump and pink, and no trace of fever. In my experience, children were the first to succumb to illness. What was different here?

Keir interrupted my thoughts. “Is he ready?” Keir asked.

Isdra smiled, and stepped aside to sit next to Marcus on a stump. I looked at Keir questioningly, but he simply pointed to the tent entrance.

To my surprise, the flap was pulled roughly aside, and Gils leaped in, striking a pose, his fists on his hips, his legs wide apart, and his chest puffed out. I smiled, recognizing Simus in the stance. But what looked powerful on a tall, muscular man with black skin looked terribly silly on a gangly youngster.

“HEYLA, little healer.” Gils boomed out, trying to deepen his voice. “These are the words of Simus the Hawk, and they are written even as I speak them!”

I had to laugh out loud at that, and looked up into Keir’s face. While there was no smile, his eyes were crinkled in the corners, and I could see the laughter hidden there. I leaned back, safe in his arms, and watched as Gils struck another pose, gesturing with one hand.

“All is well within the stone tents of Water’s Fall. Have no concern for your people. Although your Council talks too much, and have sent you many dry words on paper. Do not read them. I have told all that their senels waste breath and sunlight. Othur turns bright red when I say so, and Warren laughs and laughs.”

Gils started to pace, swaggering back and forth in front of the bed. I covered my mouth not wanting to hurt his feelings, but from the side glances he gave me, I

knew that he was trying to make me laugh. So I did, loud and clear, as he continued.

“One of the council is worth her words, one Mavis. A fine woman. She fancies me.”

Keir snorted.

“Our people have settled here with not too much trouble. The stone walls make us all uneasy. There have been only a few fights, and no deaths that I know of, although Eln of the Healers has sharp words for me each time I see him.

“Othur rules well. Anna makes good food. She fancies me. Warren is a strong warrior and we have tested our blades against each other. Eln has said that Atira is fine. I was forced to share my kavage with her, as her pleas were pitiful. My own leg heals well.

“I have attended a High Court and am not impressed. We of the Plains can teach your people much about senels and celebrations. The women dress in drab colors and act oddly. They pretend to fear a warrior such as I, but they admire my strength and prowess. They all fancy me.”

I laughed so hard, I started to cough, and Gils waited until the spasm passed.

“Send word of your lives to me. Send kavage, for I will grow ugly without it. I have sent words for Joden’s song. Read them to him.”

Gils came to stand at the end of the bed, his hands on his hips, chest thrust out. “Tell that Warlord of yours that all is well, and that he could have no better voice than I. Fare well, little healer, Xylara, Daughter of Xy, Warprize and my friend.” Gils bowed, and I laughed, looking up into Keir’s face again to share the moment. His eyes softened as he returned the look.

Gils approached, his eyes alight. “Warprize, here are the others. I could only read that of Simus. The words in the others are too hard.”

“You did very well, Gils.” I smiled at him, and he blushed.

“Now.” Marcus stood. “Isdra and I have to wash the babe’s things before we are overcome with the stink.” He fixed his good eye on Keir. “You are getting flabby. Go spar with Gils. Leave her to her letters.”

Gils went pale, his eyes wide.

Keir raised an eyebrow at Marcus, then looked at me. “Do you need anything?”

“She’s fine.” Marcus started to push him out of the tent. “Are we not within calling distance? Go. Work out your frustrations, yes?”

“Why me?” Gils protested, as they all filed out.

Simus was right. The formal letters from my council were dull and dry. They’d all been sent some time ago, so there was no mention of the plague, or its effects on the city. Simus had included another letter for Joden, with his version of the events that had reunited me with Keir. I tucked that one away to read to Joden once we were all together again.

The parchment of the various missives crackled under my fingers. Othur had included a short, private note to tell me that he and Anna were well and that Lord Durst was still recovering from the blow that Keir had dealt him.

The next set of letters would tell me what had happened. If the plague had hit the city. If Eln had gotten my warnings in time. As much as I longed for word, I dreaded it as well. Eln would want the details of what had happened, and how I had managed to survive an illness that killed a warrior in his prime and the entire village of Wellspring. How Isdra and the babe remained healthy when everyone else succumbed. I had no answers.

From outside the tent I could hear the sounds of sparring, and water being sloshed in buckets. Probably Marcus and Isdra washing the babe’s cloths. The guilt rose in my chest, and my eyes filled. The entire village, the babe’s mother… the babe’s name… we’d lost all of that. Rahel’s remedies and cures, her stash of notes, all gone in a matter of days. What kind of illness was this, that some lived on for days, and others suffered for a few hours, but all die? All except me.

Of course, they hadn’t had Gils. I smiled, wiping my tears. I couldn’t ask for a better apprentice. He was so passionate about his new skills. He’d taken an old saddle bag, and was using his spare moments to make it into a kind of satchel, stitching on a wide strap, and adding pockets for ‘lots of useful things’. He’d offered to give it to me, but I’d told him to make me another one when he was done with his.

My smile faded slightly. Gils had found a way to break my fever, which had left me with enough strength to fight the lethargy and the fluids that had built up in my lungs. But I doubted that Eln would be satisfied with my new remedies. He’d want an herbal cure and I’d nothing to offer.

All I had to offer was a desperate way to bring down a raging fever, and a touch that caused the body to do what it should do on its own. Those were not the weapons with which to defeat an invisible enemy.

The tent flap opened and Keir stepped in, sweating in his armor. He gave me a gentle look, and I flushed a bit, conscious that this was the first time that we’d been alone since the fever had broken.

He came to stand at the foot of my bed. “All’s well?” He nodded toward the letters.

“It was.” I gathered up the documents. “I need to send a message to Eln and tell him what has happened.”

“Good. We’ll do so before we leave for the Plains.”

Startled, I looked up at him. “Surely before that. We can’t leave for some forty days.”

It was amazing how those blue eyes could change in an instant. They sparked like flint as his body tensed. “Another day will see you well enough to travel. We’ll leave for the Heart of the Plains the day after tomorrow.”

“You can’t be serious.” I gaped at him. “Keir, we have to stay isolated from the others for forty days. I have explained this to you—”

He cut me off, raising his voice to drown me out. “With the elements favor we will make up the lost days on the journey. We will rejoin the army, and depart this place.”

The letters scattered over the bed as I struggled up out of the blankets. “This illness killed an entire village, not to mention Epor. For the love of the Goddess, Keir, you must listen to me!”