"No." Ashyn wiped a cool cloth over Tyrus's sweat-soaked forehead. "He is not."
"He will. It was a powerful poison." The girl glanced at the dark form lying beside Tyrus. "The wildcat may pass, too. He seems to have gotten less of the poison, but there's still a chance."
Ashyn gritted her teeth and kept cooling Tyrus's brow. They'd laid blankets on the floor of the abandoned hut and put Tyrus and Daigo on them. Ronan had undressed Tyrus to help with the fever, but had draped an extra blanket from his midriff to his thighs, for modesty. When Ashyn had returned from refilling the water bucket, she'd caught Guin peeking under the blanket. The girl hadn't been the least bit ashamed of her actions--instead making observations that Ashyn was still trying very hard to forget.
She'd like to forget Guin herself, as well, but that was more difficult. She couldn't even send her off in good conscience--there was no one to take her. The expedition was lost.
Lost. That was one way of putting it. The expedition was dead--that wa
s another.
Everyone who'd accompanied them from the imperial city had been slaughtered by the bandits and Lord Jorojumo's men.
Ronan and Ashyn had returned shortly after the warlord's treachery to find only one remaining warrior. Tyrus was with him. He'd been fighting like a whirlwind. Before Ronan could join the fray, Tyrus had fallen.
He'd not been attacked--he'd simply fallen. Poisoned by a blade or a dart, as they later realized. Aided by Daigo and Tova, Ronan had managed to fend off all attackers and drag Tyrus from the battlefield. That's when Daigo had fallen, too. The remaining warrior only survived long enough to cover their retreat before being cut down.
Later, Tyrus had roused and managed to tell them what had happened. How the warlord had betrayed them. How Moria had vanished. Tyrus had spotted her on the edge of the battlefield with one of the warlord's men. Then she was shouting his name, and he'd turned just in time to avoid a fatal blow from the warlord.
By the time he managed to get off the field, Moria was gone. Presumably taken by the young warrior. Now held captive by the warlord? Perhaps. More likely by Alvar Kitsune himself.
If Moria was with Alvar, Ashyn hoped Gavril was there. While Moria believed he'd betrayed them, Ashyn had seen them together on the road. Gavril cared for Moria. He'd not let her be harmed.
Please let her be with Gavril. Let her be safe. Let her return to me soon.
And let her return to Daigo. The wildcat lay unmoving by Tyrus's side. He was conscious. Ashyn suspected he wasn't even asleep, though he kept his eyes shut. His leg had suffered a sword slice, and as the poison took hold, the wound had festered until he couldn't walk. Which was just as well. When he'd still been able to hobble, he'd kept trying to go after Moria.
Ronan had followed Daigo a few times, in case he did in fact know where Moria was, but the wildcat was only searching blindly, so they'd confined him to the hut. Since then, he'd barely lifted his head to drink. He chose not to move. He chose not to eat.
After they'd found the hut, they'd gone searching for the rest of the convoy and found only two survivors.
When they'd seen the warlord's men coming for them, riding hard, the scholar Katsumoto had insisted Simeon take their scrolls and hide in the woods. Ashyn and Ronan had found him there, and he'd volunteered to take the only remaining horse and ride for help. Ashyn had suggested Ronan go instead--so he could get back to his brother and sister. Ronan refused, and she was, admittedly, glad of it. Simeon would have been useless out here, and while Ronan might not be a shoulder to cry on, he understood how much her sister's absence affected and worried her.
So Simeon had gone. By now, he should have reached the imperial city. The emperor would know what had happened and be sending troops.
Guin was the other survivor. Confined to the wagon, she'd kept silent during the attack. Ashyn had released her and occasionally regretted that. It seemed that once one became a spirit, one's capacity for human compassion evaporated. After two days, Guin had suggested they abandon Tyrus and Daigo, forget Moria, and let nature and fate run their course. Ronan had told her--repeatedly--that she was free to leave. He'd eventually offered her one of his blades and half their food. She'd still stayed.
Ronan came in and slung a bag on the broken table. "Apples, rice, dried fish . . . I even found some honey."
"Honey?" Guin perked up. "Do you know how long it's been since I've tasted honey?"
"It'll be longer still," Ronan said. "This is for Tyrus and Daigo."
"They need sustenance," Ashyn explained. "They can only take water and that's not enough. I'll mix in the honey." She smiled at Ronan. "Thank you."
She didn't ask where the food came from. He'd stolen it. There was no choice. They were still deep in Jorojumo's lands and didn't dare appeal to his farmers and peasants. Ashyn hoped Ronan stole only from those who could afford the loss, but she knew she was being foolish if she expected him to heed such concerns. They were in fear for their lives while nursing an imperial prince from the brink of death. Ronan would take supplies wherever he could find them.
Guin looked down at Tyrus. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I had a little of his honey . . ."
"He's a prince," Ashyn snapped, more harshly than she intended.
"A bastard prince. It's not quite the same thing. But I take your meaning. The emperor will reward us handsomely if we do manage to save his life."
"That is not why we're--"
"Go for a walk with Tova, Ash," Ronan said. "I can look after Tyrus."
"I ought to watch Tyrus."