Chronicles Of The Warlands 01 - Warprize by Elizabeth Vaughan

Author:Elizabeth Vaughan
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi

"They'll die without treatment." I pointed out.

"So?" Iften looked at me, honest surprise on his face. "This is our way, Warprize."

"Then our dead will dribble behind us, as water from a leaking skin." A voice spoke from the tent entrance and we all looked to see Isdra standing there, with Gils behind her holding the babe's basket in one hand, satchel of healing supplies on his hip.

From the look on Gils's face, he hadn't known of the meeting. To his credit, he didn't pause for long. He stepped past Isdra and walked through their midst to stand by my side. The babe was kicking at her blankets, waving her arms around happily.

What astonished me was the reaction of the warlead-ers. Even Iften's face seemed to soften at the sight of the child, kicking and cooing. "Is that the only survivor?" Tsor asked softly, craning his neck to get a better look.

"Yes." Keir smiled at the basket as Gils set it down next to me. "The babe and Isdra did not sicken. The Warprize became ill, but she survived."

Isdra had followed Gils, to stand next to me. Without their speaking, I could see the various warleaders considering her with long looks. Was it because she lived? Or because of Epor's war club, still strapped to her back.

Iften's eyes narrowed. "Why have you not joined your bonded, Isdra of the Fox?"

Isdra's eyes were dark and cold and something in my stomach clenched. But she merely stood straight and still, tilting her head up a bit to look Iften in the eye, and responded in low tones.

"Be wary, Warleader. For you do not hold my token, and I might take offense."

Marcus chose that moment to emerge from the sleeping area, his arms full of weapons and armor. He moved next to Iften, and dumped it at his feet. Before the blond could react, Marcus had ducked back under the tent flap. Iften had a snarl on his face, and took a step as if to con-front Marcus, but Keir stopped him. "There is no time for this." Keir's voice cut through us all. "This is no senel, and no truths will be addressed. The old ways of dealing with," he hesitated slightly, "of dealing with the sick will not work, for all of us have been exposed to the enemy. Alone, we will all die. Together, we will defeat this enemy. This is battle and I will be obeyed."

That was that for most of the warleaders, although Iften scowled and a few others looked uncertain. But all focused on Keir's commands.

"All who are ill are to be brought here, to the shore. The lake will be used to cool the fevers."

"Ortis, pull the scouts in. Set a guard within the camp, with no warrior alone. The rest of the scouts, send to the Warprize, to learn the signs and treatment of this illness. They will spread the word in the camp so that all learn the enemy."

"Food, Warlord." Sal spoke up, grim and anxious.

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