“Simus?” Keir’s voice was rough, almost a growl.
“Friends. Be easy, Keir. They will help us. Simus,” I called. “Take off your weapons, and come in.”
I heard a rustling and movement outside. Simus or someone was slowly cutting the back wall of the tent, making an entrance. Keir spun, placing himself between me and the widening gap.
Simus crawled through, on hands and knees, dragging his wounded leg behind him. Keir tracked his every move with the tips of his swords. Simus stopped just out of reach and lowered himself to lay on the floor. “My Warlord, the enemy is slain and all is secure. What is your command?”
Keir stared at him for a bit, then lowered his swords slowly. “Simus?” His voice was rough and puzzled. “What… ?”
Simus did not raise his head. “Battle rage, Warlord.”
Keir was already looking around, turning this way and that. His eyes fell on me. “Skies.” Through a haze, I saw him drop his swords and kneel by my side. Simus reached over and pulled the weapons to his side. “Get in here and help her!” Keir roared.
I would have laughed, but it hurt too damn much.
Gils appeared beside me, muscling his way in. Joden appeared from nowhere and grabbed at Keir’s shoulders, pulling him hack. “Let the boy work.”
“Warprize, can you hear me?” My vision was graying, but I could make out a shock of red hair and anxious eyes. Gils turned away, then suddenly there was a movement under my nose. A deep breath and suddenly everything was bright and sharp. The scent from the crushed leaves in Gils’s hand cleared my confusion.
“Warprize.” Gils swallowed hard, and continued with a shaky voice. “The dagger went through your upper arm to the hilt. It holds you pinned to the tent floor.” He swallowed a sob. “There’s be a lot of blood.”
Well, that certainly explained a few things. I trembled for a moment, but not from the cold. Images returned, memories of what had happened. “What of the others?” I forced the words out past the pain. “ Atira?”
Keir grunted. Gils spoke quickly. “You’re the worst.”
Simus nodded. “Tell us what to do.”
“Roll me over so that the dagger comes clear. Clean it well, then pull it from my arm.” I took another deep breath. The scent of the leaves was still there. “Gils, you will need to clean and dress the wound. Use boiled skunk cabbage, there is some in the tent.” Another tremble went though my body. It seemed that I was teaching a class from some distance away.
“Get me warm and watch for signs of fever.” The haze was back, the leaves could not stave it off any longer. I could just make out Gils’s nod and worried look. “You’ll do fine,” I whispered. “Simus.”
“Warprize.” Simus was still with Keir.
“Once it’s clean, I want you to pull out the dagger.” Keir started to object, but I didn’t let him continue. “ Warlord.” I managed to lift my other hand. Keir knelt and took it. “Let them do what they must.” I caught his eyes with mine. “I will be fine.”
Simus knelt by my side. Gils knelt next to him, poised with supplies. They shifted me slightly, and I gasped at the sensation. I tried to focus on Keir’s eyes through the haze. They were so blue, so frightened.
Frightened?
Puzzled, I opened my mouth to ask why at the same moment that Simus pulled the dagger out. The pain cut through the haze nicely, revealing the blackness beyond.
Chapter 9
I didn’t want to wake up; the darkness where I floated was warm and comfortable. But my ears ached from the sound of an angry voice that pulled at me. I cracked my eyes open, only to squeeze them shut as the bright light burned them. The voice continued, ranting in its fury. I eased my eyelids up again, squinting to let them adjust.
I was in Keir’s bed. The tent seemed to glow it was so bright.
“Ah. There’s my girl.” A whisper caught my attention.
“Eln?” I turned my head slowly, my neck achy and stiff. Eln was sitting on the bed next to me, holding a small bowl. I stared at him, puzzled.
“It’s me, child.” He kept his voice low. “How do you feel?”
“Feel?” I didn’t understand, but even more confusing was the angry voice that had not stopped or cooled. I turned my head slowly back to discover that the tent wall had been rolled up. Keir was pacing back and forth where the wall normally hung between bedroom and meeting area. Still dressed in black leathers, the silver wrist bands catching the light and glittering as he moved like a large cat. A large, angry cat. I could just see the tops of heads beyond him, filling the meeting area. Something wasn’t right. I sat up.
Rather, I tried to sit up. The arm I asked to support me objected mightily, and I gasped at the pain. In that instant it all came back, details of the attack flooding into my head.
Keir was by the bed in an instant. He half climbed into the center, and placed a hand on my chest to keep me flat. “You’re awake. Warprize, are you all right?” He was speaking my tongue.
I eased back onto the pillows. “I think my arm is going to fall off.” My voice was a croak.
Keir sucked in a breath.
“It’s not going to fall off.” Eln responded firmly. He frowned at me and gave a sharp jerk of his head, telling me in a not-so-subtle manner to watch my tongue. “I’m sure it hurts, but the wound is clean and well bandaged. There is bruising on your neck, but no real damage. You will recover fully.” Gils hovered behind Eln, his face tight with worry. Eln continued, “Your student did well, Lara.”
Keir snarled. “One of the few who did well.” He returned to his feet. “Tend to her,” he snapped as he resumed his pacing. None of the others had stirred.
I lay back on the bed as Eln leaned forward and placed his hand on my forehead. Gils stood next to him, nervously watching us.
“Eln, how—”
“Kidnaped from my home by mounted warriors and slung over a saddle like a sack of meal.” Eln snorted as he checked my heartbeat. “It took a while before someone who spoke our language explained what had happened.”
“How long have I been out?” I asked, still sounding rough. Gils flicked a look from my face to Eln’s and back.
Eln grunted. “I don’t know. You were unconscious when I arrived, and I have been here for a quarter of an hour.”
I repeated my question to Gils in his language.
“Warprize, you were unconscious for about an hour. I’s did the best I could, but I told the Warlord to send for a real healer from the city, and I knew your teacher’s name.” His face was pale under his red hair. “I’s told him that I’s your apprentice.”
Eln raised his eyebrows when he heard a familiar word. “Your ‘apprentice’ did a fine job of cleaning and binding the wound. I have checked it, and it would seem that stitches are not required.” Eln inclined his head toward the lad. “You might tell him that for me.”
I did, and Gils collapsed next to the bed, his body seeming to fold under the weight of his fears. “I’s so scared, Warprize. That I’s be hurting you, that the Warlord be hurting me…” Keir’s angry voice was raised again. Gils swallowed hard. “I’s think most of the blood we saw be your attackers, not yours.”
Eln produced a cup. “I want you to drink this, then sleep.”
I smelled the contents. “Lotus? No, Eln. I want my wits about me.”
“More fever’s foe then, and water.” Eln didn’t fuss at my refusal.
I looked into the main tent, at the heads that remained lowered, as Keir moved back and forth. “What is going on?” I asked.
Eln looked over his shoulder. “From the tone, I believe the Warlord is going to start ordering executions. ”
I straggled up, heedless of my arm. Gils moved to support me, kneeling behind me on the bed.
Keir’s voice was razor sharp. “I am looking for answers as to how the warprize came to be attacked inside my own camp, while she was under the protection of my warriors.” His head swung angrily toward the kneeling warriors, and I could hear the snarl of an infuriated cat in his voice.