"Moon times?" She shrugged. "They came when they came."
"How many campaigns have you served in?"
Keekai's face lit with pleasure. "My first was under Rize of the Hawk. ..." She proceeded to use that memory of hers to detail her military history. I counted out the campaigns, figuring that would come close to a year if the armies were disbanded before each winter.
"Then I became an Elder, and I have served to select the warlords seven times since then." I blinked, rechecked my figuring, and then looked at her in shock. Keekai wasn't nearly as old as I thought she was.
She tilted her head to the side. "Your curiosity is satisfied?" She took my silence as such. "Then we must sleep. Still Waters will insist on an early start tomorrow, and I doubt he'll agree to a halt until the sun is down!"
I stretched out under the blankets, listened to Keekai's breathing, and thought about what I had learned. Life on the Plains was hard. I knew that, or at least, I'd thought I'd known what that meant. But I didn't, not really. I'd had all the comforts of city life, plus the advantages of living in a castle. I didn't have a daily struggle for food and warmth, things I took for granted. But on the Plains, life itself was hard, harder on the body. Which meant that Keir wasn't as old as I'd thought. Perhaps we were closer in age than I'd realized?
I turned onto my side, and pulled the covers up over my shoulder. The brazier was not putting out as much heat now, and the air felt colder. A slight breeze moved the side of the tent, and if I turned my head and looked up, I could see the stars through the smoke hole. I shifted deeper into the warmth of my bed. Did they live in tents in the snow? How did they find food in the winter? Even with raiding, how could they have enough?
What did bearing five children do to a woman's body?
Suddenly, I understood the depths of Keir's desire to bring change to the Plains. And just how valuable he thought my skills were. But even more than that, how pleased he'd been that I'd treat any that came to me. Tend the wound of an enemy. Set the broken leg of another.
A snort from the other side told me that Keekai was finally asleep. I reached out my hand and pulled my satchel closer. Quietly, so as not to awaken Keekai, I dug in a side pocket and took out the damp piece of something that Iften had spit on my shoe. There was just enough light for me to study it. A mushroom, that I was certain. I smelled it carefully, but it didn't have a strong odor. I rubbed it on my skin and waited, but there was no effect. I shrugged. Only one way to know for sure. I put it in my mouth and bit down.
An odd sweetish taste filled my mouth, and I swallowed. My heartbeat seemed louder, and the tent began to spin . . .
I spat it out into my hand. A medicine, akin to lotus leaf, but far more powerful and fast acting then any I knew. If it had this effect after Iften had chewed it for a time, what would it be like fresh? What uses could I put it to?
I studied the damp bit in my hand, then placed it back in my satchel. Maybe the light of day would let me determine which mushroom.
I settled back down, lost in thought. Was that the power of the warrior-priests? Using herbs to mask the pain, instead of treating it? No wonder Iften could still use his hand. No wonder they refused to help, probably where pain drugs offered no help.
Even in the warmth of my blankets, I shivered. How would the warrior-priests react to true, skilled healing? What would they do to Keir?
I slept, eventually. But my sleep was uneasy and filled with vague, fretful dreams. Keekai and I were finishing our morning kavage when Still Waters asked to enter the tent.
"Would you have kavage?" Keekai offered. "Would you sit by my fire?"
"Thank you, but no," Still Waters declined with a shake of his head, setting his long, matted braids to swaying. He remained standing just inside, stooped a bit so that his head didn't touch the tent. "During the night, the guards spotted a group of riders watching the camp. Two went out to offer the warmth of our fires, but the strangers rode off as they were approached."
Keekai frowned. "The courtesy of the Plains is not that dead." Still Waters grunted his agreement. His face remained neutral, but his voice was condescending. "Had we traveled faster—"
"Ready the horses," Keekai cut him off. "Make sure that this day the scouts stay within sight." She turned to me as he left the tent. "Keep close to me and to Iften."
"I will." I rose, and reached for my satchel. "Do you think there will be a problem? I thought those of the Plains did not attack each other?"
"Would that we were of one mind, one thought, always in agreement." Keekai strapped her sword to her waist. "But there are always those few who think with their sword. I doubt that there will be trouble. But
—"
"Death comes in an instant."
Keekai stopped and looked at me with sympathy. "I can hear Marcus's voice in that. He taught you that lesson, did he?" I nodded. She grimaced and continued. "A harsh lesson, but that doesn't change the truth of the words. Come. This day, we will ride hard."
Before the plague had struck, Keir and I had feared that one of the villages of Xy had rebelled against us. Keir's concern had been that I was a target, and so I'd been hastily dressed in ill-fitting armor, helmet, and given a shield to hide behind.
Afterwards, Marcus had made it a point to outfit me with something protective that actually fit. He'd located a metal helmet, and a vest of hardened leather that laced up the front and fit over my tunic. I had a hard time managing the shield, because of the weight. Marcus and Keir had been satisfied that the armor and helmet were enough to guard me. I'd gotten a blistering earful from Marcus when I said it still wasn't very comfortable.
Apparently, that wasn't a concern.
So Keekai had those items brought, and I donned them without a protest. The laces took a bit of work, and I braided my hair to tuck up under the helmet. That made it easier to deal with. And this helmet came with a chin strap, so it didn't tip to the side, or fall on my nose like the last one. That was a definite improvement.
Iften came up as I was adjusting the helmet and handed me my reins. His face was serious. "Mount." I nodded, and tried to mount with some grace. Iften frowned at me from the ground, took my satchel, and secured it to my saddlebags. He walked around Greatheart, checking the various straps that made up the tack. When he was satisfied, he mounted as well.
