breaking.
Her chin trembled. "What you must."
Never in his life had Sayyed had to do anything so difficult as pick up Tam's slight form and carry her in his arms from their tent. She clung to him while he walked slowly down the path, the two Hunnuli close behind. Neither one could find the words they wanted to say. The Khulinin guards at the edge of camp took one look at his burden and stepped sadly out of his way. Sayyed didn't even see them through the dark fog that was descending on his mind. Almost blindly he bore his wife down to the council tent and into the dimly lit interior. Three rows of pallets had been laid down for the sick, and a fire was burning in the central hearth. The four healers on duty were so busy caring for their patients they did not notice Sayyed come in.
With shaking hands he laid Tam on a pallet beside the tent wall. He knew he had only a moment to say something to her before one of the healers saw him and forced him to leave, but how could he put twenty-three years of friendship and love into a few meager words? This woman had saved his life, loved him, borne his son, and given him a world of laughter and joy. How could he leave her here alone to die?
Tears clogged his throat, and he groped for her hand.
Something soft brushed past his arm. The white cat had followed him down from the camp and was nestling into the blanket by Tam's shoulder. Just outside the canvas walls the two Hunnuli nickered to her.
Tam tried to smile. "I am not alone now. Go my husband. Care for our son.
Remember our love," she whispered.
Sayyed's head dropped. "I'll be back when I can." He brushed a finger over her cheek, then stumbled to his feet and fled from the tent.
CHAPTER FOUR
Kalene woke in the middle of the night feeling uncomfortably hot. Her eyes opened blearily to an unfamiliar glow, and she saw her mother hunched over the Book of Matrah, trying to read the pages of the old tome of sorcery by the light of a single hand lamp. She blinked her eyes and dazedly wondered why she was so hot.
Her blanket was soaked with sweat, and something heavy lay pressed against her left side.
All at once she sat up, her heart pounding. Coren had crawled onto the pallets beside her that evening and fallen asleep. At some time he had rolled over almost on top of her. He looked strangely flushed in the dim light of the lamp, so Kelene laid her hand on his damp forehead. It was the first time she had ever tried her empathic touch on a sick person. The results shocked her. She could sense the symptoms of Coren's illness as clearly as his fear and confusion.
"Mother!" she cried.
Her voice woke everyone in the tent. Gabria rushed to her feet and hurried to kneel by Kelene's side. Coren was half awake and breathing rapidly. "My throat hurts, Mama," he mumbled.
Kelene eased out from under him and gently stretched him out on the pallet. "His temperature is rising," she said to her mother, trying to keep the fear from her voice for Coren's sake. "His throat is starting to swell, and he's losing consciousness fast.
You've got to do something!"
Gabria took a cloth and wiped Coren's skin. Her hands were shaking. "I've read the Book of Matrah from cover to cover and I can't find a single healing spell," she cried softly. "I don't know what I can do."
"There's got to be something we can try," Kelene insisted. "Maybe we could wrap him in damp blankets to lower his temperature."
Athlone and Lymira came to kneel by Coren's side, their faces deeply worried.
"Perhaps we could transfer some of our strength to Coren to help his body fight the disease," Athlone offered.
Gabria considered that. Magic-wielders used a combination of mental and physical strength to control the power of magic. They often joined their strength together to maintain difficult spells, but Gabria had never tried giving her energy to a much smaller, weaker person who was unable to control his own power. She didn't know what to expect. She could only hope that
Her chin trembled. "What you must."
Never in his life had Sayyed had to do anything so difficult as pick up Tam's slight form and carry her in his arms from their tent. She clung to him while he walked slowly down the path, the two Hunnuli close behind. Neither one could find the words they wanted to say. The Khulinin guards at the edge of camp took one look at his burden and stepped sadly out of his way. Sayyed didn't even see them through the dark fog that was descending on his mind. Almost blindly he bore his wife down to the council tent and into the dimly lit interior. Three rows of pallets had been laid down for the sick, and a fire was burning in the central hearth. The four healers on duty were so busy caring for their patients they did not notice Sayyed come in.
With shaking hands he laid Tam on a pallet beside the tent wall. He knew he had only a moment to say something to her before one of the healers saw him and forced him to leave, but how could he put twenty-three years of friendship and love into a few meager words? This woman had saved his life, loved him, borne his son, and given him a world of laughter and joy. How could he leave her here alone to die?
Tears clogged his throat, and he groped for her hand.
Something soft brushed past his arm. The white cat had followed him down from the camp and was nestling into the blanket by Tam's shoulder. Just outside the canvas walls the two Hunnuli nickered to her.
Tam tried to smile. "I am not alone now. Go my husband. Care for our son.
Remember our love," she whispered.
Sayyed's head dropped. "I'll be back when I can." He brushed a finger over her cheek, then stumbled to his feet and fled from the tent.
CHAPTER FOUR
Kalene woke in the middle of the night feeling uncomfortably hot. Her eyes opened blearily to an unfamiliar glow, and she saw her mother hunched over the Book of Matrah, trying to read the pages of the old tome of sorcery by the light of a single hand lamp. She blinked her eyes and dazedly wondered why she was so hot.
Her blanket was soaked with sweat, and something heavy lay pressed against her left side.
All at once she sat up, her heart pounding. Coren had crawled onto the pallets beside her that evening and fallen asleep. At some time he had rolled over almost on top of her. He looked strangely flushed in the dim light of the lamp, so Kelene laid her hand on his damp forehead. It was the first time she had ever tried her empathic touch on a sick person. The results shocked her. She could sense the symptoms of Coren's illness as clearly as his fear and confusion.
"Mother!" she cried.
Her voice woke everyone in the tent. Gabria rushed to her feet and hurried to kneel by Kelene's side. Coren was half awake and breathing rapidly. "My throat hurts, Mama," he mumbled.
Kelene eased out from under him and gently stretched him out on the pallet. "His temperature is rising," she said to her mother, trying to keep the fear from her voice for Coren's sake. "His throat is starting to swell, and he's losing consciousness fast.
You've got to do something!"
Gabria took a cloth and wiped Coren's skin. Her hands were shaking. "I've read the Book of Matrah from cover to cover and I can't find a single healing spell," she cried softly. "I don't know what I can do."
"There's got to be something we can try," Kelene insisted. "Maybe we could wrap him in damp blankets to lower his temperature."
Athlone and Lymira came to kneel by Coren's side, their faces deeply worried.
"Perhaps we could transfer some of our strength to Coren to help his body fight the disease," Athlone offered.
Gabria considered that. Magic-wielders used a combination of mental and physical strength to control the power of magic. They often joined their strength together to maintain difficult spells, but Gabria had never tried giving her energy to a much smaller, weaker person who was unable to control his own power. She didn't know what to expect. She could only hope that
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