6 Sickness and DeathTYR RACED OVER THE high pasture-land. He cleared the fence above Wyrdha’s house as he had done the previous morning and disappeared below the ridge. Azhur followed at his own pace, hand on his ribs where a pain was beginning. “Azhur!” Tyr was back at the fence, waving. “Azhur, there’s priests! Priests and soldiers from Valderthaan!”
Azhur reached the fence, gasping. “Valderthaan? Why?”
Tyr helped him over. “Dunno, they’re in the square with horses and everything. Wyrdha’s gone down.”
“What about Yauva?” said Azhur.
“Utha’s watchin’ him, come on.”
The novice was dragged stumbling amongst the tress and round the corner of the healer’s house. There was the plump, red-faced girl by the door, grinning in awkward but evident appreciation.
Azhur remembered a yellow-haire
