At Rashida's insistence, two new guards had loaded Cita onto a wood and canvas litter they brought.
The healer paced beside the stretcher, the goods from her stall packed into a basket on her back and a walking stick in hand.
On the other side, Nathaniel spoke in an undertone with Bilal, gesturing at the glaive.
'Why are they doing this? I get that this … Lord Blaah … is pissy and wants to see us. But what authority does a healer have? Even Bilal caters to her.' Cita frowned and shifted. The world seemed … bluer. 'That doesn't make sense, though. The sun is setting. It should get darker, not blue.'
**You need to know what you're fighting for before you start something,** the youth caroled from his perch on a brick wall. **You ready to get this started?**
Cita gawked at the youth, who whooped in response and punched the air. Then he smirked and tossed his black braids over his shoulders. He ran into the night, sing-shouting lyrics Cita half-recognized. Cita felt more than saw the omnipresent shadow snake after the youth.
"Stop fidgeting," Rashida said. "Lie still so they don't drop you."
Cita lay quietly and noticed the city was again cloaked in prosaic dusk. 'Whatever. Laying down helps my headache.' He rubbed his forehead. 'However …'
The litter swayed as the guards walked.
Cita's stomach clenched and roiled, and the water he sipped earlier threatened a prompt reappearance. He closed his eyes and focused on not disgracing himself further. Clammy sweat pooled on his brow.
*You're ruled by your body, as ever.* The shadow, darker than the dusk, flitted past Cita's face.
Self-loathing rose, enveloping Cita in a black cloud. His heart raced and his limbs trembled. A whimper escaped his clenched lips, and he fought the urge to curl into a ball.
"Stop panicking," Rashida cut through Cita's introspection. "You are injured and ill. This comes to each of us in our turn. Breathe in deep and hold it for a five-count. Then breathe out slowly."
Cita complied, eyes squeezed shut.
"Good. Again."
"We're almost there," Bilal added. "You will feel better once you rest. After we have spoken with Lord Blaah, we will return to the inn."
Cita shuddered and clutched the wooden poles supporting the canvas sling.
One guard raised his end while the other dropped it low, trying to keep the litter level as they climbed a steep hill.
"Can't I walk?" Cita whined, swallowing hard. He recoiled at his own tone. He opened his eyes to study Rashida's face.
"Perhaps into the keep," Rashida responded.
Cita breathed easier. 'She doesn't sound cross.' One of the guards fumbled his grip, and the litter pitched.
"Put me down," Cita gasped. He leaned over the side.
The litter twisted, and the guards struggled to keep it from overbalancing.
Bile and water erupted from Cita's mouth.
The guards dropped the litter, triggering a fresh round of retching despite Cita's empty stomach.
Gradually his stomach stopped spasming. As he fell back to lie flat on the litter, Bilal knelt next to him and used a damp cloth to wipe his face. A firm hand held his head up, and Bilal pressed a cup of water to Cita's lips, prompting him to rinse his mouth.
'Don't shout.' A blond, looming figure flashed through Cita's mind before melting into nebulous terror. 'And don't struggle. Just obey.' Cita shuddered and fought against vomiting again. He forced the embryo of memory away.
"Chew on this." Rashida thrust a few wilted leaves into Cita's mouth.
Cita flinched. He hesitated and then chewed. Minty flavor burst across his tongue and helped to clear the last traces of sickness. He slowed his breathing, feigning calmness.
Ignoring Cita, Rashida asked Bilal, "You said he was fighting the Infected when you found him. Obviously, he wasn't bitten, or he would have turned. What exactly happened?"
"He tumbled and twisted his ankle. But he was bitten."
The guards recoiled, leaving Bilal and Rashida at his side. Even Nathaniel, who had seemed friendly enough, took a few steps back and wavered. A guard scuttled off into the keep.
"He fell unconscious as I arrived and then lay with a high fever for a day and a half. But he did not turn. You can see for yourself: he is not black, nor is he rabidly aggressive." Bilal glared at Nathaniel before he continued addressing Rashida. "We traveled to the township without trouble this morning, and he seemed sound enough, aside from his ankle. I think the fever might be back now."
"You think the …" Rashida trailed into a language Cita didn't understand. "Što ne e vo red so vas? Ova … ovoj pantivaist e vašata zamena za An—"
[What is wrong with you? This … this pantywaist is your substitute for An—]
Cita flinched at the scorn in Rashida's voice. 'That echo again … do I trust it?'
"Ne go zboruvaj negovoto ime!" Bilal said. His narrowed golden eyes caught a hint of the sun, low over the township's walls, and seemed to burn. "Ova nema nikakva vrska so nego."
[Do not speak his name! This has nothing to do with him.]
Cita rubbed his forehead, trying to push the strangeness out.
"Toj trebaše da bide del od mojot selam, i ne treba da go koristam negovoto ime?" Rashida folded her arms underneath her bosom and glared down her nose at the kneeling man.
[He was to be part of my selam, and I'm not to use his name?]
"Sakavte bandaž da ja dodadete vo vašata kolekcija; toj ne bi možel da vi pripaǵa bez dozvola na majkite. I nema nikakva vrska so ova!"
[You wanted a trinket to add to your collection; he could not belong to you without the materfamilias's permission. And it has nothing to do with this!]
"Nitu eden roditel na semejstvoto Dračaenaekin nema milost za osakatuvanjata, Bilal. Go vrativte na toa. Kaži mi pak kako si go preživeal toa vraḱanje?" Rashida's eyes seemed to glow with an inner light.
[No Dracaenaekin materfamilias has mercy for cripples, Bilal. You took him back to that. Tell me again how you survived that return?]
Bilal knelt, stone-faced, refusing to meet Rashida's brown eyes.
Cita flinched at the wild gestures that accompanied her tirade. Exhaustion dragged at his bones.
'The echo ... it's translating everything they're saying.' Cita swallowed a fresh wave of bile. 'I'm not supposed to have understood any of that.'
**Don't let them find out. Distract them!**
The order jolted through Cita like electricity. He swallowed the leaves and cleared his throat.
"Hey," he cut in weakly. "There was a rock. I … maybe hit my head when I fell?"
Rashida turned her glare on Cita before softening.
"That might be part of the trouble. But you do have a fever. Do you know if you were ill before you met the Infected?"
Cita shook his head with his lips sealed tight and regretted it immediately. He swallowed hard.
*Useless again, boy.* The hated, taunting shadow echoed through his mind. *There are two things you're good for, and this isn't either of them.*
Cita threw an arm over his eyes, hiding as best he could.
"Healer, I do not think he remembers," Bilal spoke up. "Cita is … a mystery."
"A mystery?" she jeered. "Aren't we all? But memory problems? Ayah. It could be a side effect of the bite. It could be from striking his head. Or it could have been from something before that." She threw up her hands. "There are too many possibilities. Regardless, you should not have dragged him all over the market!"
"Hmm." Bilal did not defend himself.
Cita peeked out from beneath his arm, but couldn't read the adventurer's face.
The guard who had left returned with two dozen more men, bared weapons in hand. Behind them strode an older man dressed in a tunic and trews, fitted to his trim figure. His silvering blond hair was tied back in a neat queue. The worn hilt of the saber at his side dully reflected the last of the sun. He brushed past the guards, ignoring their protests.
"Lord Blaah." Nathaniel gave a respectful bow. "I apologize for the delay."
"Nevermind that. It seems one of the adventurers is ill." The arrogant voice held a note of compassion as he addressed his guests. "I am Lord Blaah, and I apologize for my discourtesy in summoning you here when you are unwell. And bitten by the Infected?" He stared down at Cita, hand on his saber hilt.
Cita fought to remain still.
"It has been more than a full day since he was bitten. It is likely a wound fever, Lord Blaah, and not the Infection or a plague." Rashida rose to greet the lord. "Though I could wish you had left him to my care instead of dragging him halfway across the township. Their inn is on the far side of the market, and Cita needs to rest."
'She's talking to him like an equal. Is a healer so important here?' Cita winced as his head throbbed harder.
"I should have known you would be on top of things, Healer Rashida." Lord Blaah relaxed and gestured toward his keep. "Come. I've asked the housekeeper to prepare rooms in recompense for the difficulties. I fear my eagerness to hear their story led me to hastiness."
"A room would be appreciated," Rashida replied. "Their belongings are still at the inn, however, and they've already paid for their stay."
Cita's eyes darted to Bilal. 'Why is he letting her take over?'
"Nonsense!" Lord Blaah waved Rashida's concern away. "I'll send someone to fetch their things and reimburse the room's cost in payment for their tale. My guards and housekeeper will settle you, and I'll see you all for dinner. We'll talk afterward."
Having announced this solution, Lord Blaah turned and strode away. Three guards hastened after him. The remaining men stared warily at their guests.
Bilal addressed Nathaniel. "He is as high-handed as ever. This is why I do not visit you."
Nathaniel laughed in response and gestured to the guards. They sheathed their blades before two came forward to pick up Cita's litter.
"What can I say? He is the lord. But did you really encounter an Infected swarm? This isn't the season for that." Nathaniel frowned at Bilal.
"We did not encounter one swarm," Bilal grimly answered. "We encountered two. And though it was small, I could not sense the presence of the second."