She sat up on the cot. Sitara worked her throat with a hand and reached over for the pitcher on the nightstand. The water was bracing. The draught chilled her to the bone, but she drank until she sputtered for breath. Until a day ago she hadn’t the strength to keep down a tablespoon of broth. Cura had left a fresh set of garments by the dresser for her, her sister was back on her feet almost a week before. Sickness was funny like that. 

Sitara brushed her teeth vigorously with baking soda and washed her face in the basin, then dressed in her new shift, fresh stockings and petticoats. She was fastening her belongings onto her belt and coat when Sara ducked into the tent. 

“Look at you,” she said, like a mother seeing her young up and about. The women exchanged smiles. 

“Good morning, ma’am.” Sitara said noticing that her voice came clearer as well. The look in the Apostle woman’s eyes indicated that she heard the difference as well.

Emerging from her tent, camp was in full swing, or full tizzy, as bodies darted this way and another after the tasks of the day. By the cooking fire the knights squire Aplo was using gloved hands and a pair of tongs to transport coals in a bucket. Young Khatru was sitting with her father by the fire and threw down her plate and utensil when she saw Sitara. 

“You’re out of bed! Oh, Sit I couldn’t be happier!” Khatru’scountenance was as bright as the sun. This past winter Derek started taking his daughter on the hunts that sustained the camp. Long hours away from a warm bed and the other women did nothing to reduce the young woman’s mood. Sitara squeezed the huntress’s hand, no sooner did she let go when Sara had returned and slipped a bowl of oatmeal into her hand. 

“Plain, but it should fill you,” she said, the steam rolling off the meal made Sitara’s weeks gone appetite creep back. She wanted to kiss Sara. The hunter Derek shared polite words for Sitara and the father and daughter went about their business. 

“Where is my sister? Is she…?” she motioned to the cartography tent and Sara nodded, and urged her to go in. 

Eating a spoonful of the oatmeal, Sitara walked in on what sounded like an argument. It was only the spirited discussion of the Lady Juniper and Din, speaking on the latest reports of unrest splintering across Apostolos. The covered stand lamps provided some heat alongside lighting the tent in a warm glow. The massive tables fit with holsters for the cartography tools had rolls of grainy parchment stacked up and partially completed drafts lay face down with their date inscribed on the backside. On the main cartography table Sitara recognizedthe latest draft of Apostolos spread out with weights holding it flat. Silently Cura and Sir Elwood conferred, their backs were turned to Sit, Juniper and Din’s spirited conversation might as well have been happening outside. 

Elwood lifted a marker and used a compass to approximate some distance, placed the marker down on some quadrant mapped while Sitara was in bed sweating her tears into thecot’s sheets. The captain’s dark blue cape swayed as he manipulated the parchment. 

Cura turned. 

“What are you doing out!” Cura closed the distance to her and banged her forehead against her sister’s, a moment of feeling for the heat of fever and she pulled back. 

“I’m feeling okay Cura,” Sitara said but for some reason mother hen wasn’t accepting it. 

“You have chills?” 

“No chills,” Sitara answered.

“No lead tongue?” Cura’s honeypot eyes were wide.

“No lead tongue,” Sitara said, unable to keep a smile off her face. She motioned down to the clay bowl in her sister’s hand. 

“You’re eating! Did you drink the pitcher on your nightstand?” Cura pressed. 

“We’re glad you’re finally feeling well, Sitara,” the knight Elwood greeted in a sturdy voice. He had turned to face the girls. “I’m always so bored when illness resigns me to bed,” he added. A look only perceptible among sisters flashed between Cura and Sitara, Cura had once told her sister that she thought the Yetvalian knight was handsome. 

“Thank you sir, it’s good to up and about,” the young woman said. Elwood nodded in approval. 

“Please have Aplo or one of the hands see to your chores, I could use a second cartographers’ eyes on this,” he motioned to the draft on the table behind him. 

Sitara had never been happier to get back to work.