“Hush.” Keir stroked my back even as he pulled his cloak around us. The warmth of his body enfolded me and I sagged into his strength, continuing to cry.

Keir held me for long moments, then pulled away, step-ping to the tent entrance. He closed it again, entwining more privacy bells into the ties. He returned to my side, coaxed me down to the pallet, and proceeded to wrap us in blankets, covering us with his cloak. With soft, comforting sounds, he arranged us so I was cradled in his grasp, supported by arms and legs. The bedding started to warm around us, and I finally caught my breath. He wiped the tears from my face with his hands. I lay silent, within his protection, and felt my body loosen and relax against his.

I breathed deep, taking in the scents of the stilltent, and the spicy smell of his skin. The warmth of his body was a comfort and I let him support me, feeling my bones melt under his touch. He murmured something about the elements, but what he said didn’t matter. What meant more was his touch, his strength, his love, all pouring into me without a single word. Just the sound of his heart beating under my ear, and the feel of his breath on my skin was enough.

His fingers started to work their way through my hair, gently carding out the snarls and tangles.

“You broke the bells.” I kept my face buried in the blankets as he continued to stroke my hair.

“I did.”

“Isn’t that rude?” My breath hitched as I knotted my fists in the blankets.

“Yes.” His voice was the barest whisper. “But I’ll let nothing stand between me and my Warprize.”

Another sob escaped me. His hands shifted and he rubbed my back, soothing me. I lay silent, trying to collect my scattered wits. I could hear the faint sounds of the camp around us, but I didn’t care. Didn’t want to care. I was so tired.

“Talk to me, Lara.” Keir’s voice was deep and soothing and brought fresh tears to my eyes. I let them come, not trying to suppress my sorrow.

“It’s all so horrible, the sickness, so many dead and Epor, oh Keir—” I gasped for breath, and pulled my head back to look him in the eyes. “Isdra’s pain is so deep. And Gils, he was just a child, he tried so hard and he’s—” I couldn’t finish the sentence. “I keep seeing him convulse, and the dagger—” I wailed, burying my face in his tunic. “Goddess help me, and so much worse, I bed to you, Keir. I didn’t tell—”

His fingers covered my lips and I cried until I was exhausted, so tired, my head pounding, my nose so clogged I couldn’t breathe. His leather armor was smooth under my cheek, and I was sure I was getting it messy with my blubbering. Keir seemed not to care, but I did. I forced my head up, trying to ease out of comfort I had no right to. “It’s all my fault, Keir.”

He didn’t let me out of his arms. His long arm snaked out of our cocoon and grabbed up a clean cloth. He held it out to me. “Blow.”

I obeyed, and used the cloth to clean my face and wipe my eyes. He tossed it off to the side and brought his arm back into the warmth to hold me. His breath was sweet and warm on my cheek. The ache in my heart eased slightly, within the shelter of the bedding.

“So.” His voice was a soft whisper. “You are responsible for all? The illness? The deaths?”

I closed my eyes and nodded.

“How so?”

I opened my eyes, to look into the calm blue of his. “I shouldn’t have insisted that I enter the village. Shouldn’t have lied to you about the waiting period.” I swallowed hard, and forced the truth out. “Shouldn’t have thought I could deal with the plague on my own.”

He shifted then, arranging us so that he was on his back, allowing me to curl at his side. Once we were settled again, he sighed. “You are not the only warrior to take on overwhelming odds.”

I lay my head on his chest.

“Maybe you are right, Lara. On the other hand, maybe the enemy was among us, silent and invisible even as we argued over what actions to take. The wind blows, and no one can hinder it or dictate its path. If I had overruled you… if we had sent messages back and continued on, we may have taken the enemy into the Plains… who can say?”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Such slight shoulders to take on the weight of all our sorrows.” Keir paused for a moment. “Think on this. What would have happened had you not been here, and we’d no warning, no lessons in illness? If Gils had not listened and learned so well?”

I thought for a moment, then answered honestly. “I don’t know.”

“That is the hardest truth of all, Lara. That we do not know what might have been or what could have been. We only know what is.” His arms tightened slightly. “I say to you this truth—that all our actions, all of them, led us to this place and no one person bears the blame.”

“Joden and Iften blame—”

“Iften would name the grass red if I called it green.” Keir heaved a sigh. “Joden has come to me in honor and spoken his truths. He is a man that I respect and I must hear him and consider his words carefully. He must make his own decisions and come to his own conclusions.”

I rubbed my gritty eyes, and lay my head back down on his chest. “I don’t understand, Keir. How can Joden support Iften?”

Keir snorted. “Joden does not support Iften, Lara. Joden opposes me. There is a difference.”

“There is?”

Keir’s hand caressed my hair again, long, slow strokes. “Iften tries to undermine my authority, working in the darkness to turn my warleaders and my army against me. He treads a fine line, trying to provoke me into something stupid. Joden’s opposition is honest and true, in the open for the skies to see.”

I drew a breath. “Xymund would have killed Iften.”

That brought a chuckle from my Warlord. “Your brother did not listen to the counsels of men of wisdom. He listened only to those who agreed with him. A fatal flaw in a leader. We of the Plains do not silence our opponents, for they keep us strong. It is the stone against the blade that hones the edge. A good leader does not silence those in opposition; they listen and consider. Sometimes they are right, yes?” Keir settled himself a bit more comfortably in our bed. “Joden will tell me his truths and I will listen.”

“Keir—”

“I am disappointed that you hid the truth from me, before you entered the village.”

My breath hitched in muted sobs, my tears returned, and I raised my head to look at him, opening my mouth to respond. But Keir shook his head, stopping my words. “I am also disappointed in myself—that you thought it necessary. That is my failure.”

He drew me in closer, and pressed my head to his shoulder. “Your brother’s lies almost destroyed us, but we won through together. We will work our way though this as well. Although I confess that I did not think you one to manipulate people in such a way.”

My throat was tight, but I managed a whisper. “I thought I was doing what was best.”

“For our people, perhaps. But not for us. For what lies between us.” Keir sighed, hugging me tight. “Marcus warned me of this. Told me that bonding was harder than I realized, more effort than ‘throwing a woman over your shoulder and claiming her’.”

I nodded. “Epor said the same. He told me that you were ‘due my first thought’. Keir,” I strained my voice, trying to convince him with all of my heart, “I promise I will nev—”

“No.” Keir shook his head. “Trust is not so easy to mend. It will take time and deeds on both our parts, eh?”

I hugged him, nodding my head. My sorrow was still there, but there was a spark of hope as well.

“Let us pledge that we will have faith in each other.” Keir continued. “That will see us through.”

“Oh yes, my Keir.” I kissed him softly, and nuzzled his ear. He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my palm. Wrapped in those blankets, both of us fully clothed, I some how felt more intimate with him than if we’d been naked. “I could stay like this forever.” I whispered.