“They’ll not hurt him,” I assured her. I focused back on Epor and spoke his tongue. “She says he’s ill.”
Epor nodded, and looked at the old woman, and spoke
Xyian with his terrible accent. “Do not be afraid.” She just stared at him. He straightened, and returned to his language. “Isdra has told you? Of the dead?” At my nod he continued. “We will continue to search and find the crazed one. Pile three benches in front of the door, Warprize, and scream if any try to enter.”
I nodded as I followed them to the door. “We will need supplies, too.”
“There is kavage in my saddle bags.” Isdra nodded toward the pile. “A pot would be welcome.”
“Oh yes,” Epor agreed as they headed out. “It will be a long night.”
I returned to the back to find the old woman standing by the bed, looking down at my other patient. She looked up, her sorrow clear. “He’s dying.”
I took her arm, and guided her back to the chair. “He’s ill, certainly.” She sank down into the chair, trembling with exhaustion. “But it’s too soon to—”
“No.” Her voice was sharp. “You think I don’t know? When they lay there, breathing rough like that, it’s the end, the—” She cut off her words, shuddering, hugging herself, sobbing and rocking. “It’s changed,” she whispered. “It’s not what it was.” She stared past me, the sweat beading on her brow, her thin hair matted to her forehead. “All of them, all…”
I pulled the blankets up around her. “Take the word of a healer, it’s not certain he’ll die. With proper care, he’ll—”
The old woman closed her eyes, her hair plastered to her face, sweat or maybe tears running down her cheeks. “I’m a healer, and we’ll all die.” She covered her face with her hands, and wailed.
It was dark when Epor and Isdra returned.
“No sign of the crazed one. If there’s more, they’re hiding.” Epor placed his load of blankets by the hearth. “We’ve lost the light. We’ll look again in the morning.”
I ran my hands over my hair, brushing back the loose tendrils. They’d hauled in supplies as I had tended to our three patients. We’d done quite a bit in the last few hours.
Isdra had a bucket of water, and a crock jug tucked under her arm. “The babe?”
“Sleeping.” I took the water from her and placed it with the others. “I fed her again, so she should nap for a while.”
Isdra nodded absently as she went over to the child, sleeping on a cushion of blankets. Epor and I exchanged an amused glance as she checked her, not satisfied with my reassurance. Isdra smiled down at the child, her angular face softened in the firelight. “I found a goat with milk.” She put the jug down, then stood, stretching out her back as she did so. As I handed Epor some kavage, I caught him looking at her, and quickly looked away.
Isdra accepted kavage as well, and settled down on the floor not far from the child. She arranged her weapons at her side, close at hand. They had raided the nearby homes for supplies, so instead of the rations that we’d brought, there were two chickens on the spit, a broth simmering on the hearth, and bread and cheese. The well had provided the water, there was plenty of wood out back and they found bedding and blankets for all. Epor had even carried in another bed for the healer. It was cramped quarters, but it would serve for tonight. They hadn’t been able to catch the one man, and Epor was determined that he and Isdra would stand watch through the night.
Epor settled by the fire opposite Isdra, arranging his weapons close at hand, too. He looked tired, and I had to admit that I was feeling worn myself. He was reaching for water to wash with when I spoke. “Did you cry out to the others, Epor?”
He looked up at me, his eyes wide, then laughed. “We would say ‘signaled’, Warprize. Aye, I did, gave the ‘All’s well’ cry.” Epor moved an empty bucket between himself and Isdra, and poured the water for us to wash.
“Who replied?” I tried not to look like I cared about the answer.
But nothing got past those two. Isdra flicked a glance at Epor, but his gaze stayed on my face with a knowing look. “Joden.”
I said nothing, just settled down with them. We washed, and they pulled their masks down just enough to be able to eat. I removed the pads from my mouth as Isdra reached for the chickens. Epor broke off a chunk of bread and handed it to me. “The others?”
“Sleeping.” I looked about the room at the quiet figures around us.
“Do you know the enemy yet?” Isdra had a chicken leg and was tearing into it as she passed me part of the bird.
“No.” I bit into the warm meat. The old woman had broken down after she revealed that she was the healer. I’d managed to get her on to a pallet and calmed to the point that she’d fallen asleep. I’d save my questions for the morning. She’d mentioned the Sweat, but the symptoms that I was seeing were nothing that I’d ever heard of. Tomorrow I’d go to her home and see what she’d been using, and take any supplies that I could.
I’d taken to calling the man that we’d found on the wall ‘Archer’. He was so deeply unconscious I hadn’t been able to get him to swallow any liquids. I’d settled for scraping a small amount of fever’s foe on the roof of his mouth, hoping that it would melt down his throat. His breathing was rough, but there was no cough and the fever seemed to have vanished.
Thankfully the babe glowed with health. Isdra was smiling at the sleeping child as she ate. Epor passed me more food and urged me to eat. We sat quietly, eating and enjoying the peace of the moment.
After we’d picked the bones clean, Epor settled back, and gave a quiet belch. Isdra poured more kavage. I drank some of the bitter liquid before I spoke. “Tomorrow, I want to go to the healer’s home, Epor. She will have supplies that I will need.”
“We must also start to deal with the dead or the filth of this place will overwhelm us.” Epor responded.
Isdra wrinkled her nose. “It already does. I have seen enough that I will never live in a tent of stone. Dirt and mouse droppings in every corner.” She waved her hand for emphasis. “A tent you can clean, shake free and be off. How can you think to keep a ‘house’ clean?”
Epor chuckled, but I admonished her. “Isdra, they have been sick. Maybe they haven’t been able to clean.”
Isdra shrugged. “Still, Warprize.”
“Warprize, you give your dead back to the earth, yes?”
I turned toward Epor. “Yes, we bury our dead. What is your tradition?”
“We give ourselves back to the elements, as do all. Some by fire, earth or air. It is rare to give to the waters, but it is done. Each according to their preference.”
“Air?” I tried to imagine how that would work and failed.
“The body is lifted on a platform, left naked to the sky. Over time, the platform decays, and falls to the ground, usu-ally pulled down by the snows.” Isdra gave me a look when I tried not to show my disgust. “Cleaner than giving back to the earth. But if earth is your custom, we will follow it.”
“I suppose.” I responded politely. “Epor, you and Isdra alone can’t bury the bodies. From what you say, there are too many.”
“We can start. A shame we can’t let the army know to dig for us. But none of the cries are designed to carry that message.”
“We can’t risk exposing them.”
Epor shrugged. “We will do what must be done. We can use fire as well, if we can find a clear clean place to build a pyre. Fire is my preference. We will finish our search tomorrow, then start on the dead.” Epor drained his kavage. “You will stay in here, with them?”
“Yes.” I finished mine as well. “I will tend them through the night, catch sleep when I can.”
“Then I will take first watch. Isdra—”
“Needs a bath.” Isdra stood, securing her weapons. “There is a well and buckets and I am going to bathe.”
Epor laughed softly. “As you say.” He stood. “I will watch… to keep you safe.”