#28 Cold

Kirra finished up with her records and tidied up, passing the time as she waited for any others that might straggle in. No one came and after awhile she decided it was safe to lock up and relax.

She went outside and sat against the low wall that ran around her herb garden, basking in the late afternoon sun. She yawned and closed her eyes, ignoring the cold of the ground and listening to the stillness. Here it was quiet and peaceful, cut off from the bustling village and far enough away from the practice yards that no clang of metal on metal could be heard, but close enough that she could be there in an instant, if she was needed -- which wasn't often.

She heard one of the last bees buzz through the dying herbs in hopes of finding something to take back to the hive, and began to drift off hidden from view by the wall and warmed by the sun. She felt more then heard someone enter the garden and sit beside her. Without opening her eyes she asked the man, "How many did you kill?"

Tristan answered, "Enough." and countered, "How many did you heal?"

Kirra smiled, Tristan was talkative today that was a good sign. She scooted a bit closer to the warmth of his body and leaned her shoulder against his.

She yawned and answered, "Not enough."

"I heard there was a birthing."

Hmmm, the truth comes out.

Kirra opened one eye and looked sideways at him. Tristan was staring over the garden and not looking at her.

"Did Vanora send you?"

He didn't answer.

Kirra sighed in defeat. This was the one person she couldn't lie to. Gawain, she wouldn't and Tristan, she couldn't. He saw through them. "Fine. Yes there was and it was a rough one."

At this Tristan turned and looked straight at her, his dark eyes sober, "You need to tread lightly in dealing with the Romans, sister."

She opened both eyes, "I think that we have already had a version of this conversation, Tristan." She reminded him disparagingly.

"Yes." He agreed.

"But she needed help." Kirra protested, her hands gesticulating wildly. "The physician almost killed her and the baby. They came to me as last resort. I had to help her." Her eyes pled for him to understand.

"Perhaps," His voice was low and calm. "But if something had happened they would have blamed you."

So, he was worried. Tristan: The Unshakable was again worried, about her.

Kirra smiled and firmly stated, "The Romans won't hurt me; that much I do know."

He looked at her, eyebrows raised in interest.

"Tristan, once again, they won't hurt me because of who I am. It would be enough if I only had a lover who was one of the knights," she explained slowly as if he were slow and hardly able to understand her.

"But my brother is one of the most feared men around," She nudged him with her shoulder playfully. "They know that they would not live to see the dawn if they harmed me in any way. Besides," her voice turned flippant, "they all think that I am a witch and will put some curse on them." Kirra snorted and muttered, "So much for unsuperstitious Christians."

Tristan was not pleased with Kirra's belief of her state of affairs. She seemed unable to grasp the true nature of their life at the fort. "Still, we are gone away from the fort for long periods of time. We would feel more comfortable if you would not deal with the Romans, at least not while we are away and unable to protect you." It was a command, gently given, but a command none-the-less.

If he had been anyone else, Kirra would have told him exactly where he could shove his command, but as it was Tristan, she merely sighed and nodded her compliance, "All right, I promise not to deal with the Romans -- while you are gone, but if you are here, than I can't make any promises."

Tristan gave a curt nod then surprised her when he handed her a cloth wrapped bundle. Kirra opened it, it was a loaf of bread, still warm and her mouth watered. She looked over at him grinning in enthusiasm.

"You had better be careful, or someone will think that you are beginning to like me."

He smiled a rare smile that lit his features and made him look younger than he normally appeared, "You look thin."

Kirra tore off a chunk and offered it to him; he took it from her. "I am thin. I sometimes get too busy to eat."

She popped a piece of bread into her mouth. One good thing about being here was the bread. It was so good; crusty on the outside and moist and chewy on the inside. Perfect.

They ate for awhile in companionable silence, enjoying the deepening evening. Kirra was surprised that Tristan had stayed with her for so long. She wondered briefly if he had another reason for coming.

"Tristan, is that all you needed or are you hurt?"

He gave her a funny look.

"Okay, I'll take that as a great, resounding 'NO'. It's just that you are still here. You never stay this long. You usually just tell me what you want and leave. I was just wondering if you had an ulterior motive. Although, I doubt that you would come to me even if you were hurt."

"I am not sure I can afford your fee," He gave her a sly glance.

"What fee?" Kirra was puzzled; she didn't charge anyone a fee. Then it dawned on her, the shirt thing. How had he found that out? She laughed, "Well, maybe you're right. I guess you will just have to keep going to Dag then, although, I'm much more entertaining then he is."

"So, I have heard." Tristan stood to leave, "I will come to you if I have need."

"I'll not hold my breath."

He smiled again and offered quietly, "Would you like me to walk with you back to the barracks?"

Kirra was surprised by him again so she teased, "I think you are beginning to like me. No, I am going to sit here awhile longer and enjoy the quiet, but thanks anyway."

She watched as he turned to leave, but he stopped and looked at her pointedly, "Kirra, someone once told me, and I have found it to be true, that anger is a wasteful emotion. When it rules your life, you find yourself alone and very cold." With those as his parting words, Tristan turned and slipped away.

Kirra shook her head. Sometimes Tristan could be so obscure.

She sat and pondered his words until the first shadows of night touched her skin. She shivered and decided it was time to go in and try to sleep. She was a bit put out that Gawain hadn't come to find her and apologize, but that would do better to wait until after they both had had a good night's sleep.

------------------

As Kirra entered her damp cold room all thoughts of a good night's sleep were pretty much dashed. She changed into her nightgown and climbed into bed, too weary to even attempt to get a fire going. She would just have to freeze tonight.

After a couple of hours of tossing and turning and freezing -- while tossing and turning, Kirra gave up. She slid out of bed and quietly opened the door to her room. She saw no one as she peeked into the corridor and ran lightly through the cold to Gawain's room. She knew that it would be warm in there and grinned when she thought of how he would react when she put her icy feet on his legs.

She opened the door, wincing as it creaked, and slipped inside. Sure enough it was warm; a cheery fire crackled pleasantly, but Gawain was not asleep. Far from it, he sat in a chair facing the door, seemingly waiting for her.

"I had hoped you weren't angry enough to make me sleep alone," he said with a small, sheepish smile.

Kirra took a deep breath as comfort surrounded her. Gawain looked wonderful, sitting there, hair and skin burnished by the fire light. He was so strong and yet so gentle; it never failed to take her breath away. He didn't have to be so careful of her, but he was and Kirra loved him all the more for it, but she did have a reputation to uphold.

She gestured dismissively, "Well, I tried, but it was too cold in my room, so I thought I would come and put my feet on your back as punishment for your thoughtless words. But it seems since you're awake, I will have to give you a severe tongue lashing."

His eyes were serious, "You know I didn't mean what I said."

Kirra sighed and crossed the room, settling herself in his lap, "I know, but I was tired and cranky and you know I turn into a beast when I'm cranky. I missed you, you know."

Gawain put his arms around her and rested his cheek against her hair, "And I missed you."

"So I heard. So much it almost made Gareth sick."

"He'll live." There was a comfortable silence before Gawain said, "So, where's my severe tongue lashing?"

Kirra snuggled closer and yawned, "We'll get to that tomorrow, right now, I am comfortable and right where I want to be. Hope you are as well, 'cause I'm not moving."

"That's a shame," he replied with a little shrug of indifference. "Because I was made to think that you wanted a bath tonight and so, several people had to go through a lot trouble to haul water and heat it."

Kirra sat up and looked at him eagerly, "Well, if they went to all that trouble, than I can't let it go to waste. Where is it?"

Gawain smiled at her enthusiasm, "Actually back in your room. I thought you would come here, sooner or later. We were just waiting until you left to get it ready."

"We?"

"Aye. You don't think that any of us would let our little healer go without so trivial a thing as a bath, now do you?"

Kirra was so touched – or it could have been because she was so tired; tears glimmered in her eyes, "All of you helped? But you just got back and are all so weary." She gently ran her fingers over the circles under his eyes.

"Well, Gal was convinced that his stitches would come out and he would have to go back and drink more of your swill, so he supervised while the rest of us worked. But I managed to convince the others that it would be in all our best interests if they helped me to get out of the, how do you put it, the dog house. They agreed."

Kirra giggled, "This is all a big ploy to get me to forgive you?"

"Did it work?"

She leaned close and kissed his lips, softly, "What do you think?"

"I'll take it as a yes." Gawain grinned, but again became serious, "And you know, drawing water for a bath, between seven grown men, is nothing, Kirra. All you have to do is ask. You do enough for us."

Gawain got to his feet with Kirra still in his arms, "Come on before the water gets cold."

Though he had said everyone had helped, there was not a soul to be seen as he carried her down the corridor to her room.