I finally sat back on my haunches and wiped the sweat off my forehead. Atira looked at me, wide-eyed. “You lied!”
I looked at her in surprise. “I did?”
“You said ‘ten breaths’.” She glared at me.
I maintained my expression for as long as I could, then grinned at her. She was starting to relax and was fighting sleep. “My leg, Warprize?”
“Atira, it is a simple break. We will be careful, and go slow, but all should be well.” I smiled at her doubting face.
“How long, Warprize?”
“It will take forty days to heal completely, Atira.”
“Forty days?” Gils looked at me with horror in his eyes. “Forty days in this cot?”
“No, not forty days in the cot. Forty days to heal completely. She’ll be able to use a crutch but that will be at least half of that. You can’t risk putting weight on it before then.”
“I will keep it.” Atira’s voice held awe. The men standing around remained silent, exchanging glances.
“You must lay still, as still as possible. It will mend. It will take time, bone is slow to grow. You must be patient.”
One of the men let out a nervous laugh. “That will be hard for her. She is not the most patient of women!”
The resulting laugh released some of the tension in the tent. But everyone, the men, the wounded, Prest and Rafe, all had the oddest look on their faces. Her friends handed Atira her weapons, and to my horror, she placed them on and under the bedding well within reach.
“You’ll get hurt!” I didn’t like the idea of sharp blades so near her skin.
Atira shook her head. “Couldn’t sleep without them.” She arranged things to her satisfaction, then settled back. I knew she’d sleep. I gestured to everyone to clear out, and they moved quietly, talking amongst themselves.
Gils lingered by the table with my meager supplies. “Warprize?”
I smiled, trying to encourage him. He sat on one of the other stumps, his knees almost up to his chin. “It’s forty days?”
“Yes, for the bone to heal. Then she will need to exercise the leg to regain its strength.”
He leaned forward, intent on my answers. “You won’t cast spells to make the healing go faster?”
“No.” I smiled. “I can’t force the body to heal any faster. I merely make sure that the leg stays straight as it grows back together. There are some salves that I can make to heal the bruising, keep the skin supple and ease some of the pain, but that is all I can do. Time takes care of the rest.”
Gils looked at me. “You can heal everything?”
I shook my head, ruefully, remembering the blood that had welled up through my fingers just days ago. “ No, Gils. There are some things I can’t heal.”
Gils watched me closely. “How did you learn this, Warprize?”
“My name is Lara.”
He looked at me as if I was out of my mind.
I sighed. “I was apprenticed to a healer who agreed to teach me for my services.” I smiled as I remembered the fuss that had caused. Eln had been nonplused by a Daughter of the Blood wanting to be a healer. Father had been incensed. I looked away for a moment, blinking hard. Three years, and I still missed him.
“What’s ‘apprentice’?”
I gave Gils a stern look. “Won’t you be missed in the kitchens?”
He grinned. “I’s say you needed help. And I’s did help.” He looked at me defensively.
“True.” I chuckled. “Well then—” I spoke softly as I explained how the process worked. Gils was filled with all kinds of questions that spilled out of him like beans from a jar. He was older than the healing apprentices that I had worked with, but his curiosity was just as strong. We were deep in conversation when Rafe clapped his hand to his forehead. “The senel!”
With that, I was hustled back to the tent. Marcus was waiting, and rushed me past Keir and into the privy area. There was warm water waiting. Marcus fussed about my tunic and trous, but satisfied himself with brushing me off. I ignored him and washed quickly. I could hear Rafe talking to Keir as I piled my hair up in a knot on my head.
Keir was waiting when I re-entered the sleeping area. I could hear the main area of the tent filling with people. He gestured me to his side. “I understand that you have a new patient in your tent.”
I nodded. “One of the warriors broke her leg. It was a clean break.”
He had a very slight smile on his face. “You healed it?”
I shook my head. “I set the bone. Bone healing takes time.”
“It will heal? She will use the leg again?”
“Yes.”
Marcus had moved to stand by the tent flap. Keir looked at him. “This should prove to be an interesting senel.”
Marcus’s lips twisted. “Aye to that. Ready?”
Keir nodded.
Marcus stepped to the table and picked up something that was decorated with feathers and beads and a small string of copper bells. He moved through the tent flap first, and called everyone to attention. “Rise and hail Keir, Warlord of the Tribes and the warprize.” Keir went first, and I followed.
The meeting area was filled with men and women, all standing about the room. There was a path down the middle to the raised platform, where two stumps sat slightly off center. Keir moved forward to stand before the stump closest to the center and faced the room. He gestured for me to be seated to his right.
Marcus had followed us and moved to place the thing in his hands on an empty stump in the center of the room. I got the impression that the stump had been placed there for that purpose.
“Where is Simus?” Keir asked.
As if at his command, the flaps of the main entrance opened, and there was a commotion as Simus was borne aloft on a cot by four men, like the roast pig at the mid-winter festival. I had to smile, and saw that others in the crowd were not immune to the humor of the image.
“Make way!” Simus boomed out, his voice filled with laughter. “Make way!” He grinned like a fool, white teeth gleaming in his dark face, carried aloft over everyone’s head, propped up with brightly colored pillows. But his joy changed to a yell of panic when one of his bearers stumbled slightly. This caused an outbreak of laughter in the crowd, as Simus berated his bearers for their clumsiness.
Finally, Simus was settled next to Keir on his left. Once that was done, Keir looked at me, and I sat down. Keir sat, and the crowd followed after.
Keir spoke as they settled down. “I have called senel, to speak of events, to hear your views, and to make my decisions. Let us eat as we talk.”
Marcus and three others started to pass through the crowd with pitchers and wooden bowls. I noticed that one was Gils, who carried his pitcher with extra care. Each person held out their hands and washed in turn as water was poured over their hands. Each uttered soft words that I couldn’t hear.
Marcus served Simus and then moved to stand before me. It surprised me, since I had washed moments ago. He glared when I did not hold out my hands. Feeling awkward I leaned forward slightly and whispered to him. “Marcus, I don’t know what to say.”
“Say?” Marcus darted a glance at Keir, who was talking to Simus, and then focused back on me. “You give thanks, Warprize. You say what you wish.” He kept his voice down, and drew no attention to us.
With relief, I held out my hands and thanked the Goddess as the water was poured. Keir was the last to wash, and as soon as he was done, food and drink were served.
There weren’t as many people as I’d first thought. I counted heads and came up with ten people seated before us, spread out so that each could rest his plate and cup on a nearby stool. An equal number of men and women, all veterans by the look of them.
As soon as everyone had food in hand, Keir started asking questions concerning the status of the army, the camp, and the herds. The talk was casual, with each individual joining in with no regard to status or degree. It was clear that they felt free to talk, expressing opinions, and not hesitating to discuss the bad as well as the good.