Rafe had reached the gates.
He seemed so small, seated on his horse before the walls. He was staying at least a horse length away from the structure. I saw him tilt his head, and call out to the villagers, the faint echo of his voice reaching us on the wind. I held my breath, but no heads appeared, no rocks, no arrows. Just silence, and the sound of the warriors around us.
Rafe called again, and then set his horse to walking back and forth in front of the gates as he stared at the wooden structure. I held my breath, and then had to breathe again and again as he stood before the walls and called. My sorrow grew as the silence did. How many were dead? Or dying?
Keir signaled to Ortis, who put his head back and warbled a cry. Rafe raised a hand, turned his horse and headed back to us.
At the midway point, he stopped as instructed, took out the bottle of vinegar, and leaning over, washed his hands and face with it. I’d told him to repeat the action, and watched as he did it four times. I could just make out his lips moving at this distance, and I was sure he was invoking each of the elements.
Once that was done he rode up to us, his face red from the scrubbing. “Warlord, there was no response, no sound, no movement that I could see through the chinks in the gates.”
Keir nodded. “My thanks. Return to your guard duties.”
Rafe grimaced, spat the cloths out of his mouth and snorted them from his nose. “Warlord, I’d ask leave to go plunge myself in the nearest stream. The Warprize’s precautions are almost more that a warrior can bear.” He looked at me through swollen eyes. “That’s a truth, Warprize, whether or not I hold your token.”
Keir nodded his approval, and Rafe took off like a startled bird.
“So.” Keir looked out at the village. “Iften.”
“Warlord.”
“Disband the warforce. Tell Wesren to make camp for the night, away from these walls. In the fields beyond that willow, perhaps. His decision.”
Iften glowered, but made no objection. He turned his horse and left us, calling to his men.
Keir continued to sit, staring at the village as the war-force melted away. “Brave people, to enclose themselves within those walls and wait for death.” A shudder went through him. “I doubt I could do the same.”
“Wait for death?” I replied, sharper than I intended. “Not if I can help it.”
“How so?” Keir asked mildly. I wasn’t fooled, for his gaze was sharp. “How can you help them?”
“By going in there, of course.”
Keir gave me a long, incredulous look. I returned it unflinchingly. There was no change in his expression, he just reached out and grabbed the reins near my horse’s chin. “No.” Without another word, he turned the horses and started to follow the warriors. Marcus and the others moved into position around us.
“Keir—”
“No, Lara.” He didn’t even look at me as he led the horses forward.
I threw my leg over, grabbed the saddle with both hands and slid to the ground. My horse’s pace was enough that I stumbled back a step or two as I landed, enough to throw Prest’s horse off his stride. Isdra got hers stopped and the look she gave me almost made me laugh out loud.
But Keir’s face choked off my mirth. His face was a storm cloud building in the sky, dark and angry, and his eyes the lightning. He dismounted and stalked over to me, leaving the horses to stand where they were.
Prest leaned down to push a strip of privacy bells into my hand. I closed my fingers around them, but never took my eyes off Keir.
“There aren’t enough bells in all the tribes…” Marcus let his voice trail off as he and Isdra pulled away, as Epor and Prest did the same. They gave us plenty of room, but kept their watch just the same. I wasn’t sure why, since the biggest danger of all was standing, towering over me, the muscle in his lower jaw pulsing with his anger.
“What means this?”
“Keir, we have to help these people.”
“Didn’t you just finish telling me the dangers of this plague? Of the deaths it causes? ‘A danger greater than any army’ That is what you said.” Keir ran a hand over his face. “Why would you even think to enter those gates?”
“To aid the sick, and care for the dying. To learn which plague it is, and where it came from. Keir, it may already be in the kingdom. We must warn Simus and Othur and Eln. The more information we have, the better prepared—”
“No.” Keir cut me off and started to pace, moving with his usual grace. His horse watched us carefully. Mine had fallen asleep again, his head hanging, ears flopping over, eyes closed. He’d put all his weight on his left leg, his right hind foot cocked behind him.
Keir cut through my line of sight. “We must be at the Heart of the Plains as soon as possible. Your confirmation must take place as soon as possible. If we delay, we lose our advantage.”
“Keir, these people swore an oath of fealty to you, an oath you demanded. Winning Xy as a fiefdom doesn’t just mean taking the spoils. It also means taking responsibility for the people of Xy.” I pulled the uncomfortable helmet off, letting the bandages fall to the ground and ran my fingers through my hair to untangle the braid. “The oaths flow both ways.”
“We pass it by, flow around it as the stream flows past a stone. Acknowledging their sacrifice, but keeping clear of the danger.”
“We can’t do that. We need information. The army may already be exposed since you’ve traded with the farmers that we have passed. I am a healer; I have sworn oaths to aid those in need. I have to go in there.” I smiled at him. “A healer goes where she is needed. To a Warlord’s side or into a stricken village.”
“That’s insane. You are the link between our peoples; the only Queen of Xy and the only Warprize. I will not risk you.”
“I swore oaths when I claimed my Mastery. As you did when you became a Warlord. They require me to serve these people.”
“It’s more important for your people that you become the Warprize.”
“Keir, Xy was a nation of traders and merchants in my great-grandfather’s time. But the plague swept through the land and decimated the people. It killed so many that the trade routes through the mountains were closed. The Xy you conquered is a far cry from the rich land of the past.”
He turned, looking down at the gates, radiating fury.
I stepped next to him. “If plague has returned, we must give them aid, and learn as much as we can. We need to send word back to Water’s Fall.”
“What need?” Keir looked skeptical. “It will stay where it is, caught within those walls.”
“No.” I rubbed my hand over my sweaty neck. “If they are that sick, they can’t even tend to the dead, Keir.”
He grimaced, knowing all too well what that meant. “We will send for aid from Water’s Fall. They can be here within five or six days.”
“We can’t wait that long. If we wait for help from Water’s Fall, we may only have dead bodies and no one to tell us what happened and how. I must go, Keir, and now.”
He glared at me.
“I am a healer, and these people, your people, need my help.”
“These people are not worth one drop of your blood.”
I looked at him steadily until he looked away. “You are thinking as a lover, Warlord.”
His head snapped back, and his eyes flashed. “I am a lover, Warprize.”
My cheeks flushed at that, but I didn’t give ground. “If your people had the healing skills, you would aid them.”
“Do you understand what you are saying?” Keir growled.
“I understand exactly what I am saying, Keir. My people need yours, for protection now that our forces have been exhausted, for links to trade, for our future. My people have enough to see them through this winter but they will need every bit of harvest that can be salvaged from the fields to survive. If it is plague, if it spreads from here…” I closed my eyes against that possibility. “Why do you send scouts out, if not to know what you are going to have to deal with? We have to know and the only way to know is if I go in.”