to face me.
"You will—"
Marcus interrupted him. "She says she needs to talk to you."
"Keir, I need to talk to the scout. This may not be what it seems." Keir shook his head, visibly reining in his temper. "Lara, I know you don't want this to be a rebellion, but you must face the truth."
"Once more. Let me talk to him once more, then you can have Prest haul me off," I begged.
"Please."
Keir scowled, but he called to Yers. "Find Tant and bring him here." It didn't take long. I was talking before he drew his horse to a stop. "Tant, tell me again what happened at the village."
Tant looked at Keir, who glared at him, then turned back to me. "We rode up, Warprize, rode up to announce our presence and the army's. Only to find the gates closed against us. I stayed ahorse, but Rton dismounted and went to bang on the closed gates, and they threw rocks at us." Tant was clearly offended.
"Just rocks?" I asked.
"And arrows." He was affronted by my questioning him. "They fired arrows at us. They hit the ground at our feet."
"But didn't hit you?" I pushed.
"What's the point, Lara?" Keir asked.
"At us," Tant insisted. "They shot at us, but they missed. What are you saying?" Tant's eyes narrowed. "You doubt my word?"
"I think there was a different reason they drove them off." I looked at Keir. "A reason that has nothing to do with rebellion."
"They're defying him," Tant sputtered. "My word on it."
"Tant, I—"
"They even painted the gates with blood in their defiance," Tant rushed on angrily. "If that's not rebellion, what is it?"
My heart froze in my chest. "Blood? On the gates?"
"Aye, and fresh, too." Tant seemed proud of himself, at his final proof. Keir's gaze was on my face, and I looked at him, unsure how to voice my fear. He frowned.
"Lara?"
"Tant," I pushed the words through my dry throat. "Was there a pattern?"
"Pattern?"
"A design? Like a mark?"
Tant paused, thinking. "Aye."
"Show me," I demanded.
Tant shrugged, dismounted, and knelt in the dirt at our feet. He reached out and traced a 'P'
with his finger.
I sucked in my breath, my worst fear made real.
"What is it, Lara?" Keir asked softly.
"Plague."
Chapter 4
"Lara? What is 'plague'?" Keir's voice was sharp.
"Marcus," I jerked around in the saddle to look at him. "I need Gils. My supplies, where are my supplies?" I'd need fever's foe, more than what I had at hand. Gils could make more, he'd learned that much.
"Xylara."
That jerked my head around, my eyes wide. Keir rarely used my full name, and never with that tone before. He was sitting on his horse, looking as if his patience had gone. I swallowed hard.
"I need Gils and my supplies."
"You need to explain, Lara. I have a warforce poised, as you prattle about supplies. Tell me now, what is it about this illness that changes things in any way?"
"It's plague. An illness that kills."
"Illness kills?" Keir ran his hand through his hair, frowning.
"Yes, of course it does." It took a moment to understand the full meaning of that question. But surely it was because he didn't know the word. Yet, my breath caught in my throat. His eyes were full of doubt, how could he not understand?
"There is no 'of course' in this." Keir responded in a voice that cut like a blade. "Are you telling me there is another explanation for the village's actions? A valid one?" Holy Goddess. He didn't understand. "Keir, the villagers were trying to protect your men. It's not a rebellion." Keir frowned, but he listened as I continued. "Under our law, an afflicted village closes its gates and keeps to itself until the disease has run its course. They fill the boundary stones with vinegar as a warning, and warn off any who try to enter. It's not you they are fighting!"
"So." Keir thought for a moment, then gestured to Iften. "We'll position the warriors, but well back from the walls. No one is to attack except at my command. Full battle gear, I'll not have any warrior dead of overconfidence."
He pulled
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