by Nova Rose
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Nigilin dipped the flask into the frigid water and watched as bubbles escaped the open hole until the container had filled completely. At least they had a water source nearby. But food was running low. He stoppered the flask and placed another into the water. His thoughts dwelled on Tesnayr.
The disease continued to spread. Five more had fallen ill and had to be taken to the quarantined area. Each day Nigilin and Arnin took water and food to the sick. Each day they made the four mile round trip. It wore on him. He did not know how much longer they could keep this up.
Grumblings moved among the people. Discontent rose as more fell sick. Tempers flared as supplies dwindled. He had placed soldiers throughout the camp to keep the peace, but even they were stretched thin.
Nigilin placed the third flask into the water. Ten days Tesnayr had been gone. Wearily he lifted the flasks of water and headed back to camp. Something caught his attention. Nigilin walked toward it. Rybnik strode from the trees toward the camp with a deer over his shoulders.
“Rybnik,” called Nigilin.
The man stopped and looked at him. “Nigilin,” he said, “Pardon my not telling you. Food has been running low so I set out early this morning to hunt. Luck must have been with me today.”
“Good thinking.”
“Here, let me take those,” Rybnik grabbed the heavy flasks and wrapped them over his free shoulder. “You should rest.”
Nigilin didn’t argue. He knew he had been working himself nonstop to keep order. “Perhaps I will. But who will ensure the sick get those and—”
“I will do it,” said Rybnik. “Arnin and I can handle the cooking of this deer and we will ensure some is sent to the sick.”
“Nigilin clasped Rybnik’s arm in appreciation. “You have proven quite useful. Thank you, Rybnik. How is Jenel?”
Rybnik’s expression fell. “No improvements.” He stalked off with his burdens.
Nigilin watched him go. Absentmindedly he glanced in the direction Tesnayr had left. Hurry back, Tesnayr, he prayed silently. He feared they would not last much longer.
A commotion arose within the encampment. Nigilin dashed toward it. Two men wrestled in the mud rolling around like animals. They beat at each other relentlessly.
“Break it up,” yelled Nigilin as he wrenched them apart.
Rybnik stepped forward and helped hold one of the men.
“What is going on here,” demanded Nigilin.
“He stole from me,” yelled one.
“I did not,” retorted the other.
“Yes you did.” The first man charged for the second one. Instantly, Rybnik grasped his arm and wrenched him back.
“Enough,” said Nigilin. “We cannot afford to fight amongst ourselves despite the reasons. Now stop this.”
Grudgingly, the men walked away.
“You know it will only get worse,” said Rybnik.
“We just need to keep order until Tesnayr returns.” Nigilin began coughing violently. Blood tainted his chin. Quickly, Rybnik caught the man before he collapsed. “I’ll be fine,” said Nigilin.
“You’re ill,” said Rybnik.
“I said I’ll be fine.”
“You’re coming with me.” Despite Nigilin’s weak protests, Rybnik held tightly to him and led him to the quarantined area where all those who had contracted the disease were.
* * *