'Oh, hell,' Kethry swore. 'Oh, bloody hell.'
Tarma nodded, and coughed.
There was nothing for it; wet and sodden as the herbs were, they were all she and her partner had to take care of their ills and the sprained hocks of their horses. She emptied out the saddlebag, carefully; separated the packets of herbs while Tanna tried to find them something dry to change into and started two pots of water boiling on the fire. Herbs for the poultices went right into the wet bandage; for this, at least, it wouldn't matter that they were soaked. As Tarma bandaged the warsteeds' sprains, she made two sets of tea, blessing her teachers for forcing her to learn how to distinguish herbs by taste.
And, given that everything else had been going wrong, Kethry made very certain that the metal pots were no closer to the flames than they had to be -- and that they were quite dissimilar.
Eventually, Tarma found an odd assortment of dry clothing, most of which was ill-suited to the chill of the air. Still, it was dry, and with enough clothing layered on, they might pass the rest of the night a little warmer, if not in comfort.
The tea, as might have been expected, was lukewarm and weak, but it was better than nothing. And meanwhile, Tarma's sneezes and coughs grew more frequent, and her guts twisted.
They sipped their tea, nibbled the soaked remains of one packet of their travel bread. Neither of them had the heart to check further to see if the rest of their rations had suffered from the leak.
'Cand you casd some kind ob sbell?' Tarma asked miserably. 'Healig, or somedig?'
'Not while I've got -- cramps,' Kethry replied, pausing for the pain to ease. 'Anything I do will backfire. I can't hold the concentration.'
'Ad I sbose Need wond do anydig, since id's nod life-threadenig?' Tarma sneezed convulsively, and wiped her nose with a leftover bandage-rag.
'That's right. I can't believe this,' Kethry said, teeth clenched against a spasm of her stomach. 'It's like everything that could go wrong has gone wrong! It's like we've been cursed -- but who would have bothered? And why?'
'Damn ib I doe, Greeneyes,' Tarma said thickly. She turned out her purse on the blanket they shared, and a few small copper pieces chinked together. 'Ib we ebber get to a town, is this going to be enough to ged more herbs?'
Kethry reached for the coins, and froze, her hand outstretched. There was something there that was not a coin.
'Where did this come from?' she asked, stirring the coins with her fingernail, and turning up something that looked like a coin, but wasn't.
It was about the size of a copper-piece, but was bronze, not copper, and inscribed with odd symbols. Tarma looked at it, her expression puzzled.
'Don'd know,' she replied. 'Wid da change, maybe. Wad is id?'
Kethry decided that there was nothing more to lose by picking the thing up, and her jaw clenched. 'You must have gotten this in with your change,' she said, angrily. 'From those priests. This is why we've been having all this bad luck. Dammit! It's a cursed coin; has to want it -- and I won't pass this thing off on someone innocent, I just won't.'
Kethry turned on him. 'Don't you start!' she snarled. 'If you want to do something useful, we should reach Ponjee tomorrow morning. Help me find someone who deserves this damned thing, then help me think of a way to make him take it!'
Warrl recoiled, his ears flattened, and blinked at her vehemence. Tarma made a choking sound.
It sounded like a suppressed laugh and Kethry raised an eyebrow. 'What's so funny?' she asked.
'You won'd like id,' Tarma said, still chuckling between blowing her nose and coughing.
'If it's enough to make you laugh-'
'He said, 'Mages be glad I'm a neuder.''
Kethry blinked slowly, then smiled slowly. No point in getting angry -- and besides, she had just thought of
