Isdra’s voice broke into my thoughts. “Warprize? The lake?”
I moved then, my hand on his forehead. Gils was warm, but not extraordinarily so. Had his work weakened him to this point? “Gils?” I called his name, but there was no reaction, no indication that he was aware. I placed my fingers at his neck, feeling a slow, weak pulse.
Quickly, I checked for any kind of head wound, or perhaps he was choking. But his head showed no sign of injury and his throat was clear. There was no sign of other injury, it had to be the plague, and yet there was no odor, no real sweat on his body. But the headaches could cause these kinds of problems, if they were severe enough. A new fear gripped me. Had the Sweat changed again? Or had the Sweat came on him so fast that it was causing convulsions? I spent precious moments checking every possibility I could think of, but I had no answers. Gils’s breath was rapid and labored, perhaps…
With Yer’s help, Isdra and I got the boy in the position that we could drum his lungs. If I could just clear his lungs of the fluids there—
Again, Gils jerked in spasms. Those around us stepped back, looks of fear on their faces. I had no comfort to offer, and what was worse, I knew that no amount of cold water would cure this ill. His breathing was slowing, as was the beat of his heart. I looked around, finally focusing on Keir’s face, a question in his eyes. I met his gaze, and let my tears fall, answering with a shake of my head.
“You can do nothing?” Keir rasped as he reached us.
“No.” I ran my fingers through Gils’s red curls. He didn’t react, and I was desperately afraid that he was dying. “He’s in the hands of the Goddess now.” I stepped back, and gestured to Yers. “Bring him into the tent.”
“Grant him mercy.” Keir said firmly.
“What?” Shocked, I watched in horror as Yers and Is-dra lowered Gils into a patch of thick grass off the path. Yers unlaced Gils’s jerkin, as Isdra stepped over to stand next to me. Rafe and Prest each knelt, and took hold of a leg, removing Gils’s boots. Joden took Gils’s left arm, and pinned it over Gils’s head. Marcus left Keir’s side, pulling his dagger as he drew closer.
“No!” I cried out, leaping to stop this. But Isdra grabbed me from behind, pinning my arms, and bore me to the ground.
“We’ll not let him suffer, Lara.” Keir looked at me, his eyes blue sparks under grim brows.
“The fire warmed you.” Joden began, his voice trembling.
The others responded in unison. “We thank the elements.” They pressed Gils to the earth as he convulsed again. He seemed to be fighting them, even as I fought Isdra. They couldn’t do this. They couldn’t!
“The earth supported you.” Joden’s voice was firmer now.
“We thank the elements.”
Marcus drew closer, but as he did, Yers looked up, and said something I couldn’t hear. Marcus handed him the dagger, and they traded positions.
“The waters sustained you.”
“We thank the elements.”
I cried out, denying their thanks, begging them to stop. Isdra pulled me back and wrapped her arms around me. “Would you let him suffer?” she whispered in my ear. Bile rose in my throat even as I cried out again, trying to deny this, trying to deny that I was helpless to stop his death, from the plague or from the dagger.
“The air filled you.”
“We thank the elements.”
Yers leaned forward. “Go now, warrior. Beyond the snows and to the stars.”
He thrust the dagger between Gils’s ribs and into his heart.
I screamed, and collapsed sobbing in Isdra’s arms. I turned in toward her, hiding my face on her shoulder. Her face was damp as well, and she rocked me as I wept. Why hadn’t I kept a better watch over my own apprentice? How had he sickened to such a point under my very eyes?
“Is this my fate? To sing dirges and laments for days unending?” Joden asked. Silence was the only answer. He sighed, lifted his face, and began to sing.
I hid my face again as they began to prepare the body. I only looked up when Marcus placed Gils’s satchel by my feet. I reached out to take it, my arm trembling at the effort. Had I ever told him how proud I was of him?
I looked up at Marcus. “I couldn’t heal him,” I swallowed hard. “I failed him.”
Marcus knelt, and wrapped his arm around both Isdra and I, saying nothing.
Joden’s chant ended. Within the warmth of their arms, I looked up to see Keir standing over us, looking at where Gils lay, his jaw clenched. He looked down and met my gaze and looked about to speak, when another voice rose, angry and scornful. “This is what comes of Xyian ways.”
We all turned to see Iften standing with Wesren and Uzaina next to him. “The death of our best and brightest, through their filth.”
Keir growled deep in his throat. “Iften—”
“No.” Iften cut him off. “Once before I challenged, and stepped back. Not this time. I call senel to witness and hear my challenge and see you answer with your blade. Summon the warleaders, summon those who can still walk and all will hear my truths.” Iften spun, striding toward the command tent.
Isdra helped me to my feet. Marcus stood next to Keir. “If there is a challenge, he will win.”
Keir nodded, a resigned look on his face. “He will.”
“You can’t!” I wiped my face of its tears. “You can barely walk, much less fight. Iften can’t. Simus said that the rules—”
“Normally.” Keir stepped closer to me, reaching to tuck a stray curl behind my ear. “But the situation is hardly normal. He will use that to his advantage.” Keir straightened a bit, and used his hands to adjust the leather harness of his swords. “Your pledge still stands?”
“It does.” Marcus answered.
“I will do what must be done.” Isdra responded, looking off after Iften.
Keir gave her a long look, but didn’t push the matter.
“We’d also see to the Warprize’s safety.” Rafe spoke quietly, with Prest nodding his agreement.
“This isn’t right.” I looked over at Joden, but he looked away and said nothing.
Keir reached out, and enfolded me in his arms. My eyes still red, I buried my face in his neck, trying hard not to weep. The soft brush of his lips against my ear had me desperate for more, and I took his face in my hands and kissed him.
Keir broke the kiss and stepped back. “Let us face Iften’s truths.”
“Gils,” I turned back, to find that Gils had been lifted from the ground unto the arms of some younger warriors.
Yers spoke. “They will see him taken care of, Warprize.”
I stepped over by them, to look into that dear face one more time. Gils seemed asleep, as if he’d awaken if any but called his name. I arranged his curls with a quick gesture, saying a silent prayer to the Goddess for him.
“Go with them, Lara.” Keir urged. “You do not need to attend this senel.”
I took a step back, and turned to face Keir. “My place is at the side of my Warlord. They will care for his body. Gils is safe in the hands of the Goddess.” I walked over and took Keir’s hand.
Keir smiled with pride, and we walked toward the crowd together.
The warleaders had gathered by the time we arrived, forming a circle outside the command tent. Iften was speaking, almost shouting, to the crowd, his sword and shield in hand. “We are cursed by the elements, and this foul Xyian is to blame.”
Many heads were nodding in agreement, and I shivered at the implication. Keir moved to stand before us, standing at the ready. I moved up beside him, with Prest and Isdra at my shoulders. Rafe was a step behind, watching our backs. Marcus was behind Keir, and to my surprise and relief, Yers was there as well.
“Her filth strikes deep, and leaves its taint. Even a child of her own lands falls victim to her corruption. A child that carries the corruption now within her!”
This remark was met with scowls, a negative reaction that surprised me, Iften saw it too, and hurried on. “Keir of the Cat has brought this upon us, by bringing his Xyian into our midst. He is to blame for what has happened here, and he must answer for it.” Iften was shouting now, spittle flying from his lips.