shutters. It's close and it looks like it might be a—" I paused for the right word. "A warleader's home."
Epor snorted at my use of the word, but he got the idea. "Come."
"But this man—"
"Leave him." Epor's tone was hard, and I understood that he wasn't giving me an option. They moved carefully, keeping me between them as we headed to the structure. Isdra rapped on the door with her pommel, even as Epor guarded our backs. When there was no response, she kicked the door in.
"Isdra…" I scolded.
"Sorry." She shrugged, then stepped through the wide-open door as I peered over her shoulder. It was a sitting room, with a hearth, and chairs. There were stairs up, and a back door into what appeared to be a kitchen. There was no outcry, no response as she strode across the room and through the opposite door. I took a step, but Epor stopped me with a gesture.
Isdra reappeared immediately, with a grim look. "There's a dead woman on the floor. No wounds." She moved to the stairs, and disappeared. I could hear her footsteps on the floor above. She was back down in a moment. "A boy, dead in a bed."
Epor grunted. "Illness, as you said, Warprize." He was fussing with the cloth in his nose, trying to get it to stay in place.
"I wish I'd been wrong."
He nodded his agreement, and stepped out of the building, back into the square. He put his head back and warbled a long cry. That was the signal to let Keir know that it was indeed plague that we faced. As the cry ended, we heard a response from over the wall.
Epor turned back to me. "They understand. Joden asks what kind of illness."
I shook my head. "I don't know yet."
Epor warbled again, as Isdra joined me in the doorway. "Do you wish to look at the dead?" she asked.
"In the morning. I'm more worried about the living." We hurried back across the square. Epor heaved the man into a sitting position as we gathered our parcels. "I need to get him in a bed and tend him." I looked up at the sky. "You two need to start checking the buildings before we lose the light."
Epor frowned. "Where?"
"There's a shrine to the Goddess over in that corner, Epor." I stood, and gathered up my parcels. "I can use it as a healing house. I'll be fine there."
"I don't like leaving you alone. I will go and—"
Isdra snorted out a laugh. "Takes longer to argue her out of it than it will to search."
Epor shook his head, but he pulled the man up and back over his shoulder. "As you say, Warprize."
Thankfully the shrine was empty and quiet. It was a large space, with movable benches, used as a place of worship and a meeting area. In the back was a small sleeping room, with a hearth.
No priest in residence from the looks of things. I had Epor deposit the sick man on the bed, and placed my packages on the side table within easy reach. Quickly, I stripped him of his clothing, then paused. There was a strong odor that not even the ginger could disguise. I pulled the cloth from my nose and was met with a foul, rank smell, coming from the body of my patient.
Confused, I replaced the plugs and continued with my work. That was not a symptom of any plague that I knew of. What could this be? The Sweat? The Swellings?
I vaguely heard Epor and Isdra as they searched the shrine, but my focus was on my patient.
He was unresponsive to my touch, cold and clammy skin, his breathing rough and uneven.
"Warprize."
His armpits weren't swollen, nor his neck. I reached for his groin to check-—
"Warprize."
His groin wasn't swollen, nor did he react as I pressed down. I'd start him on fever's foe and—
"I swear an ehat could charge though this room and she'd never note it."
Epor's voice cut through my thoughts. I looked up to see him standing in the door, holding a bucket of water. Isdra was kneeling at the hearth, feeding a small fire, smiling at Epor's jest.
Epor placed the bucket beside the hearth. "The back seems secure. It's surrounded by walls, and there's but a small house back there."
"Privy." I
Epor snorted at my use of the word, but he got the idea. "Come."
"But this man—"
"Leave him." Epor's tone was hard, and I understood that he wasn't giving me an option. They moved carefully, keeping me between them as we headed to the structure. Isdra rapped on the door with her pommel, even as Epor guarded our backs. When there was no response, she kicked the door in.
"Isdra…" I scolded.
"Sorry." She shrugged, then stepped through the wide-open door as I peered over her shoulder. It was a sitting room, with a hearth, and chairs. There were stairs up, and a back door into what appeared to be a kitchen. There was no outcry, no response as she strode across the room and through the opposite door. I took a step, but Epor stopped me with a gesture.
Isdra reappeared immediately, with a grim look. "There's a dead woman on the floor. No wounds." She moved to the stairs, and disappeared. I could hear her footsteps on the floor above. She was back down in a moment. "A boy, dead in a bed."
Epor grunted. "Illness, as you said, Warprize." He was fussing with the cloth in his nose, trying to get it to stay in place.
"I wish I'd been wrong."
He nodded his agreement, and stepped out of the building, back into the square. He put his head back and warbled a long cry. That was the signal to let Keir know that it was indeed plague that we faced. As the cry ended, we heard a response from over the wall.
Epor turned back to me. "They understand. Joden asks what kind of illness."
I shook my head. "I don't know yet."
Epor warbled again, as Isdra joined me in the doorway. "Do you wish to look at the dead?" she asked.
"In the morning. I'm more worried about the living." We hurried back across the square. Epor heaved the man into a sitting position as we gathered our parcels. "I need to get him in a bed and tend him." I looked up at the sky. "You two need to start checking the buildings before we lose the light."
Epor frowned. "Where?"
"There's a shrine to the Goddess over in that corner, Epor." I stood, and gathered up my parcels. "I can use it as a healing house. I'll be fine there."
"I don't like leaving you alone. I will go and—"
Isdra snorted out a laugh. "Takes longer to argue her out of it than it will to search."
Epor shook his head, but he pulled the man up and back over his shoulder. "As you say, Warprize."
Thankfully the shrine was empty and quiet. It was a large space, with movable benches, used as a place of worship and a meeting area. In the back was a small sleeping room, with a hearth.
No priest in residence from the looks of things. I had Epor deposit the sick man on the bed, and placed my packages on the side table within easy reach. Quickly, I stripped him of his clothing, then paused. There was a strong odor that not even the ginger could disguise. I pulled the cloth from my nose and was met with a foul, rank smell, coming from the body of my patient.
Confused, I replaced the plugs and continued with my work. That was not a symptom of any plague that I knew of. What could this be? The Sweat? The Swellings?
I vaguely heard Epor and Isdra as they searched the shrine, but my focus was on my patient.
He was unresponsive to my touch, cold and clammy skin, his breathing rough and uneven.
"Warprize."
His armpits weren't swollen, nor his neck. I reached for his groin to check-—
"Warprize."
His groin wasn't swollen, nor did he react as I pressed down. I'd start him on fever's foe and—
"I swear an ehat could charge though this room and she'd never note it."
Epor's voice cut through my thoughts. I looked up to see him standing in the door, holding a bucket of water. Isdra was kneeling at the hearth, feeding a small fire, smiling at Epor's jest.
Epor placed the bucket beside the hearth. "The back seems secure. It's surrounded by walls, and there's but a small house back there."
"Privy." I
Similar Books
