Bran was feeling better but he was still unwell. All three of us, that is Bran, his sister and myself, were coming down with terrible coughs. I feared I must look a sight. We were standing together, choosing weapons and getting ready to ride to face King Galdran. I knew if it came down to a fight between the two of us I could easily best him. After all, I had catlike reflexes. His army was larger but I had great faith in my warriors. Each of them was hardworking and devoted to the cause. I silently prayed that we'd get out of this alive. I slowly glanced over at Meliara. Why did she affect me so much? I wasn't used to everyone liking me, so why should I expect her to? It's because she isn't court bred, I thought. At court people mask their dislike and show it in subtler ways. It's her flat out disapproval of me that bothers me. Satisfied, at least for the moment, with this explanation I forced my mind to concentrate on the task ahead. I took a swig of the bristic and let it clear my head. Ugh. A grown man and I still hated taking my medicine.