Chapter 13

Anna had assigned Simus servants and they brought hot kavage as we settled into the chairs by the fireplace in his quarters. Even with the flames roaring, there was a chill in the room. I took the offered mug and sipped the bitter liquid carefully. The servants bowed and retreated from the chamber. Simus had a mug of his own, and settled in a chair opposite me. “I swear by the skies that my tent is warmer than this stone castle of yours.” He grumbled in his own language.

I nodded and ran a hand through my hair, thankful to be rid of the weight of the crown. It sat on the table next to me, gleaming in the firelight. The taste of kavage was bitter on my tongue, yet soothing. I could almost feel my headache fade with every sip.

“You did well, little healer.” Simus leaned back, stretching out his long legs, cupping his mug in two hands. “You showed knowledge and strength.”

I stared down into the dark liquid left in my mug. It was time. “Simus, as Queen of Xy, I must obey you as the representative of my liege lord, right?” I used his tongue, mindful of those who might overhear us.

Simus nodded. “Yes, I speak for the Warlord until he releases his claim. You have sworn fealty to him.”

“But I haven’t sworn, have I?” I looked out of the corner of my eye.

Simus was puzzled, but he answered my question. “Your system allows oaths to pass from heir to heir, am I not right?”

I nodded slowly. “Yes, but the oath must be ratified.”

Simus shrugged.

Casually, I continued. “And as warprize, Simus?”

“Eh?”

“As warprize, must I obey you?”

Simus tensed. It was a slight movement, involuntary on his part, but I caught it. He recovered well. “You are no longer warprize, Your Majesty.”

“But if I were?”

“As warprize, you would rank me.” He looked at me closely, but his eyes betrayed nothing. “But you are no longer claimed as warprize.”

I tilted my head and smiled at him over the brim of my mug. “That’s odd.”

“Odd?”

“I’m sure that Joden told me that once claimed, only the elders could confirm or deny my status as warprize.”

Simus stared at me, his eyes wide.

I thumped my mug down on the table, hard enough to rattle the crown. “You will tell me now, Simus, and tell me the truth, with the flames as a witness.”

Simus dropped his mug, groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “Who told you? Keir was sure that—”

I stood, furious. “No one told me the entire truth. I had to figure it out for myself.” I breathed in, trying to maintain my anger and control my delight. “I must be confirmed as the warprize by the Council of Elders, yes?”

Simus nodded, head never leaving his hands.

“I remain the warprize until the elders confirm or deny me, yes?” I pressed him hard. I was rewarded with a muffled ‘yes’. I pressed on. “Keir can’t change my status once he claims me, can he?”

“No.”

“As warprize, I answer only to my chosen warlord and I haven’t yet formally chosen a warlord, have I? That’s why he denied me access to the camp, so I couldn’t talk to Marcus or Joden, isn’t it?”

Simus moaned.

“Look at me.” He didn’t move. “Look at me, Simus.”

Dropping his hands, he collapsed back in his chair and looked at me. “Lara, please—”

I drew myself up. “As warprize,—”

Simus held up a hand, palm out. “You rank me, little healer.” He dropped his hand down, and leaned forward slightly. “Keir is trying to do what is best for you and this land. Your kingdom needs you and there are things that you will face as warprize, obstacles that—”

“Never asking if there might be alternatives!” I was furious, practically spitting. “Without considering my thoughts on the matter!”

“Lara—”

“Enough, Simus.” I lifted my chin. “Hear now the will of the warprize.”

He sagged in his chair. “I will hear and obey, warprize.” He looked up, pained and yet with a gleam of mischief in his eyes. “Can we at least have more kavage before you order me to thwart Keir’s plans?”

I smiled, and sat back down, feeling strangely exhilarated, my headache gone. I was going to make this work, find a way to balance the interests of my kingdom and my heart.

Keir had been right. The best part of being a queen and a warprize is getting exactly what you want.

Once again I faced the council over my father’s desk, my hands sweating, my stomach cramping, and the crown of the Kingdom of Xy about to fall off my head at any moment. I put my hands face down on the maps spread out over the desk, and tried to remain calm, for this day would see either the birth or the death of my hopes. “My councilors, I thank you for joining me this morning. I have something that I wish to announce before we begin our deliberations.”

This was no group of sleepy lords, craftmasters, and clergy—half -awake from being roused from their beds. These men and women faced me alert and ready, each with their own agenda to be considered. They’d all come, with the exception of Lord Durst. He still lay abed, recovering from his wound. I’d tried to blunt the edge with an offering of tea and sweet pastries, but mere food would not be enough. Othur had a chair off to the side, not technically part of the council, but as Seneschal he’d been invited to councils by my father. Xymund had removed the privilege, but I had restored it the day before. Warren was sitting next to Simus, whose tunic and trous were the color of gold. He looked relaxed and opulent, with the onyx brooch of the cat gleaming on his collar.

I pulled my eyes from the brooch, and cleared my throat to continue. “I believe that it is in the best interests of this kingdom if I go with the warlord as the warprize.”

I’d stunned them. Taking full advantage, I continued. “Our joy at my return must quickly give way to the hard reality of this kingdom’s situation.” I held up my hands as Othur and the Archbishop both tried to interrupt. “I will state my case, then I will answer your challenges and questions.” I drew in a breath. “ There are no potential alliance marriages that would be acceptable to the council or to me, one of the reasons that Xymund didn’t contract my marriage.” There were none. I had poured over the damn map for hours, checking the status of the neighboring monarchs. The only one that might be a potential ally was five years old and had a regent.

“There are no nobles within the kingdom that would be suitable for me to take as consort.” This was trickier, since there were a few that I could marry. But I was certain that the political infighting would prevent anyone from becoming attractive in the entire council’s eyes.

“If I should pass to the Goddess without a living heir, the throne would descend to my cousins.” I cleared my throat. No need to go any further, since they knew of the cousins. “The combination of a lack of an heir and a lack of a potential spouse is a fatal one.”

They sat there, focused on me. The only encouragement I saw was in Simus’s eyes. I stiffened my resolve, hoped that the crown would stay on, and continued, “Our army has been weakened, and there will be attempts on our borders, especially with an inexperienced woman on the throne.” I glanced at Warren, but his expression told me nothing. “To strengthen the army will take time, men, and an increase of taxes and tithes. That will be especially hard, since there has been little trade with other kingdoms since the war, and no new routes since my father’s time.” Remn, Estoval, and Kalisa had all confirmed that fact for me.

“A union between the Warlord and myself provides answers to these problems. We would have an alliance, bound by marriage.” The Archbishop coughed, but I ignored him. “Bound by marriage. I am certain that our union would be fruitful, and Simus of the Hawk has confirmed that my firstborn could be raised as a Son of Xy, and designated as the heir to the throne.”

“By taking my place as warprize, I would be able to promote trade between our peoples, opening up potential markets for us, and bringing in new trade goods. By taking my place as warprize, I will insure that the Warlord will provide men to aid in our security. When our more aggressive neighbors hear of this alliance, they’ll be slow to challenge a warlord. That would reduce the need for increasing taxes and tithes.” I wasn’t going to let them off the hook completely on that issue. The Kingdom needed money.

“I’ll listen to your arguments and answer your challenges. If any has a better idea to serve the needs of the kingdom, let them speak. I must stress that time is of the essence. If the Warlord returns to his people without the Warprize at his side, our opportunity will be gone. And he departs soon.”

They were on their feet in seconds, talking at the top of their lungs. Othur pressed his lips together in a thin line. Warren looked thoughtful. Archbishop Drizen looked apoplectic.

I let them stew for a while, not so much listening to any one voice, but trying to catch the general tone. I’d diagnosed my patient, now all I had to do was convince the patient that the treatment would work, no matter how bad the taste.

I put my shoulders back, called the room to order and called on Lord Warren to speak first. By all rights, it would have been better to have gone about this slowly, persuasively, and tactfully, approaching the councillors individually. I had time for none of that. If this were to happen, it had to happen quickly.

Step by step I took them through my reasoning. We poured over the maps of the surrounding kingdoms, and scrutinized the potential marriages in agonizing detail. Of the six potential rulers, three were already married, with heirs. One was a woman. One was age five, and the last one had a streak of madness that ran through the male side of the family. To my astonishment, there were advocates for this alliance, until they were silenced by their peers.

A marriage with one of the local nobility caused a great deal of ruckus. There were a few second sons that might have qualified, except that many of the lords hated one another. I sat back in my chair and let them have at it. Simus was having a wonderful time, although his command of Xyian was not strong enough to follow all of the rapid cursing and swearing. I happened to catch Othur staring at me at one point. I tried to catch his eye, but he looked away. Finally, I had to take a stand and stop the discussion. It was getting no where and we were losing time.

The discussion about potential heirs was very short. Everyone knew my cousins and no one wanted to see them on the throne of Xy.

It was during the discussion on taxes and tithes that I got my first indication that I had support. Lord Warren stood and held up a hand. “I believe that Xylara is right. If she claims the title of Warprize, it will bring more good than harm to the Kingdom of Xy.” Warren looked around the room, then focused on Othur. “I’ve dealt with the Warlord first hand, and I know that he is a man on whom we can depend. I say that we should support the Daughter of Xy in her decision.” He took a seat as the members of the council talked among themselves.

Masterweaver Meris popped up. “The merchants support this decision as well.” She popped back down. Thank the Goddess for mercantile instincts. We weren’t going to have to debate the benefits of expanded trade. The way Meris kept eyeing Simus, I’d had no doubt she’d support me.

“Well, I’m against it.” The Archbishop rose ponderously from his chair. “We are talking about binding a Daughter of Xy to little more than a barbarian, and a heathen barbarian at that. Goddess forbid.”

Having anticipated this argument, I rose from my chair. “Perhaps now would be a good time to speak privately and refresh ourselves.”

The servants brought in fresh drinks and offered mugs of soup and warm bread. I circled the room, talking to each councilor for a moment, smiling at each one, and made sure that I ended up at the side of the Archbishop. Deacon Brow-dus stood at his side. “Devoted One.” I sat next to him. “May I speak with you privately?”

“Of course, Daughter of Xy.” The Archbishop lowered himself in the chair next to me, adjusting his robes. Deacon Browdus took up his usual position, just behind the Archbishop, a stern frown on his face.

“Devoted One, before we go much further with our council, I feel that I must draw your attention to the sleeping arrangements while I was in the Warlord’s camp.”

“Sleeping arrangements?” Drizen’s voice lowered to a whisper. “Where did you sleep?”

I waited until he was mid-sip with his tea. “In the Warlord’s bed, Devoted One.”

He choked on the tea, splattering his vestments. Wide-eyed, he waved off the Deacon’s assistance, and mopped at his robes with a cloth. “Child, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that while in the camp of the Warlord, I slept in the Warlord’s bed, Devoted One.”

“Oh, my poor child.” His face flushed.

“Devoted One, I have wished to discuss this matter with you, for it troubles me greatly.”

“Child, I—” Archbishop Drizen shifted in his chair as his face grew redder. “There’s no need to share the details—”

“My thanks for your willingness to spare me, Devoted One, but I feel that you must know the truth.”

“T-truth?” Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead as he set down his tea, and let his eyes dart around the room, searching for an escape.

“I am no longer a virgin, Devoted One.” I took a sip of tea to give him time to absorb the information.

“Really?” he squeaked. Deacon Browdus’s face was pinched up and his eyes were bugged out.

“Yes, Devoted One.” I looked him straight in the eye. “A foreign prince might have a problem accepting that.”

The poor man blushed deeper. “T’m certain that allowances would be made, Daughter of Xy.”

“Alas, Devoted One, not everyone is as forgiving as you.” Since during the last sermon I attended he had discussed that very point in great detail, I was sure he’d see it as a difficulty.

“It could pose a problem, my child.” He sucked in air, and let it out slowly. “I’m encouraged that the Warlord seems to respect our traditions.”

I inclined my head. “During my short time with his people, it seemed that they were tolerant of our beliefs. ” I rose from my chair. “My thanks, Devoted One. Your words have brought me comfort.”

He looked relieved and confused at the same time. “You are always welcome to confide in me, Xylara.”

I moved toward the window, anxious to check that Keir was still here. Simus had assured me that he wouldn’t move any earlier than stated, but my heart feared otherwise. A quick glance out the window told me that they were making preparations, but they were still there.

Othur moved up next to me, mug in hand. We stood for a moment in uncomfortable silence. “Othur—”

“Lara—”

We both chuckled, but Othur shook his head when I tried to speak. “No. Me first.” He lifted a hand to tug on one of my curls. “You are like a daughter to Anna and me, Lara. Don’t fault us for wanting to protect you.”

Tears filled my eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I whispered.

Othur turned to look out the window. “I’ve thought long and hard about this, Lara. Have to admit that I prayed about it was well. Tried to imagine what your father would say. When you removed that brooch from Simus’s cloak, you were trying to save a life. A worthy goal. But kings and queens must look beyond the individual and work for the benefit of the people and the land as a whole.” He turned back to me. “You’d learn to be a great queen, Lara, but you would be miserable and lose a part of your soul in the process. The day would come when you’d make the right decision, but the weight of it would haunt you forever, haunted by the lives you sacrificed rather than rejoicing in the lives you saved. You are of the Blood, but I can’t wish that fate on you. Even more, it’s hard to admit that our chick has grown wings.” He considered my face with a wry smile. “Your arguments make good sense, Lara.” He sighed, and looked out the window. “This is what you want?” He gave me a sideways glance. “Or rather, who you want?”

I nodded, then put my hand up to make sure the crown stayed straight.

“And who will rule in your stead, Daughter of Xy?” There was no condemnation in his eyes, just honest concern. “Have you thought that far ahead?”

I smiled at him, my heart feeling a bit lighter. “Are you familiar with The Epic of Xyson?”

He grunted. “Yes, but I was hoping you wouldn’t remember.” His tired eyes sparkled with a touch of his old humor. “Very well. You have my support, Warprize.” He nodded toward the group behind us. “And you’ll have their support once they settle down. Make an excuse to leave the room for a bit, and let Warren and I talk to them.”

Simus came up to us at that point, limping slightly, mug in one hand, a plate of Anna’s tarts in the other. “ Try one of these.”

Othur and I each took one. One bite, and I knew where the bitterest opponent of my plan lay. I looked up into Simus’s dark eyes ruefully. “Apparently I have angered the cook.”

Simus nodded.

“Word must have gotten down to the kitchens.” Othur dropped his tart back onto the plate. “You’d better go talk to her.”

“She’s your wife.”

Othur arched an eyebrow. “You’re the Daughter of Xy, and Warprize. This is one duty that you cannot abrogate.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

As usual, the castle kitchen was hot, overcrowded, and cluttered. The staff seemed particularly frantic, and I’d heard Anna berating a maid for breaking a dish before I’d even entered the room. She was scolding everyone, standing in the center of the kitchen, wielding her wooden spoon, her apron covered in food stains. I eased in the door, and stood for a moment, just watching her. She was upset, and taking it out on everyone in sight.

One of the servants noticed me and said something to Anna. She stiffened and jerked her head around, setting her chins to jiggling. I withstood the scorching by lifting my chin. She scowled. “Food not to your liking, eh, missy?”

“Anna—”

“Here now, keep turning that spit!” Anna cursed at the young boy who was turning the meat. She turned back to me, her face hard. “Rumor has it that you’re wanting to follow after that barbarian.”

“Anna—”

Her face changed in an instant, crumpling before my eyes.

“Why? Tell me that? He let you go, gave you back to us. Why would you want to go?” She collapsed onto one of the stools, which creaked in protest. The room went silent, as everyone stared.

I gestured for the servants to leave, and they filed out, after taking the various meats and stews off the fires. Once the room was empty, I went to Anna, who still sobbed, and put my arms around her. I lay my head atop hers, and let her cry.

Othur came in. He knelt before her and rubbed her knees with his large hands. “Anna.”

She sniffed, her face red and tear-streaked. Othur reached into a pocket and handed her a large white handkerchief. She took it and blew her nose. “We just got her back, safe and well, why can’t she stay?” Anna sobbed, her chins wobbling. “There’s no reason for her to leave.”

I lifted my head and took a breath, but Othur took one of Anna’s hands in his own. With the other, he pulled me down to kneel next to him. “Anna, my love, look at her.”

Anna looked at me with reddened eyes.

“Anna, the eyrie’s open and our chick has flown. The truth is that she wants to go.”

“Truly?” Anna squinted at me and frowned. Something she saw made her eyes widen. “You’ve lost your heart to that barbarian, haven’t you?”

My eyes filled, and I tried to smile and nod at her at the same time.

“Besides which,” Othur spoke softly, “she’s convinced me and the entire Council that it’s in the best interest of the Kingdom that she go.”

“Well.” Anna pulled her hands free and mopped her eyes with her apron. “Just so you know, whoever sits on the throne will not get one bite of food from my kitchen worth eating.”

Othur sighed heavily. “A hard thing to be starved to death by your own wife.”

“Eh?”

“Anna, I am going to name Othur Warden of the Kingdom of Xy. He will rule in my stead while I am with the Warlord.”

“Please say that you will feed me, lady wife.” Othur stood and hugged her, as she burst out crying all over again.

The morning of Keir’s departure dawned bright and clear. As the sun left the horizon, the front runners of the Warlord’s army moved out, scouting the way for the bulk of the army to follow. Simus and I watched from the walls, wrapped in cloaks.

“He will kill me, you know,” Simus spoke morosely.

I glanced at him from under my hood. “No, Simus. The blame will rest on me. Keir won’t hold you responsible.”

Simus snorted. “It’s not Keir I’m worried about, Warprize. It’s Joden. He will be furious that he missed seeing this. At least let me send a messenger—”

“No. I’ll not risk Keir getting wind of what I intend to do. If it’s Joden you’re worried about, then send him a letter and describe it to him. But wait awhile. This might not work.”

“A letter?” Simus rolled his eyes. “Warprize, I can’t—”

“You tell your words to someone, and they write them down for you.”

“Ah.” Simus looked pleased.

I continued my watch out over the valley. “How long before they leave?”

“Keir usually sends the scouts out two hours before the army moves.” I turned and smiled at Simus, who just shook his head, his gold earring swaying in his ear. “Warprize, they will sing of this for a thousand years.”

I just smiled and headed down off the battlements. The guards bowed to me as I moved quickly back into the castle and headed for the throne room.

It was one of the fastest coronations in the history of the Kingdom of Xy, shorn of its ceremony and pomp. We’d gathered the nobles, merchants, and the entire palace staff as witnesses.

Once I was officially Queen of Xy, Simus came forth, and I knelt before him and repeated all of the oaths that Xymund had made for the peace.

I then summoned Othur forth, and in a ceremony pulled directly from The Epic of Xyson made him Warden of Xy during my absence.

The public announcement of my decision was harder, for the people were nervous as to its wisdom. Funny that they had been fairly confident when I’d surrendered myself into a form of slavery. Now that I was fighting for something I wanted, they weren’t so sure of themselves. But I’d made sure that the discussions in the Council chamber had been made public knowledge, and there was no outward resistence to my plans.

As I made my private goodbyes to Othur, Anna and Warren outside the great double doors, Simus stood close with the reins of our horses. Warren had a frown on his face. “Lara, what if the Warlord will not accept you back? What then?”

I took a deep breath and mounted my horse, thankful that no one else had asked this question. It was one that had weighed heavily on my mind. “I’ll deal with it if and when it happens, Warren. Not before.”

With that, we turned our horses toward the gate and left the castle.

So it was that Simus and I were on the rise that overlooked the road when Keir’s army began to move. The road stretched for long miles down the valley to eventually reach the plains. A well-worn path, it was trampled dirt for miles and miles. The day was clear and crisp, with a slight breeze. It would be cold when the sun sank behind the mountains.

With distant cries, the army began to pass in front of us, with the leaders in the forefront. I spotted Iften and Joden, but my eyes locked on Keir. He was astride his horse, dressed in black, hard to miss with his scarlet cape. He rode at the lead, eyes to the front. Joden had obviously seen us, he surged forward and spoke to Keir. But Keir passed without turning his head, without a glance.

Simus chuckled. “He’s showing off.”

“How so?”

“Moving out at a trot. Normally the army moves at a walk.”

“To save the horses.”

Simus laughed. “No, to save our asses. Trotting’s hard on the rider. He’s trying to impress. They’ll slow once they are out of sight.”

It took some time for the entire army to pass by, but at last the stream of soldiers and equipment ended. While we couldn’t see them, Simus had assured me that the rear guard had stayed behind. They’d wait for about an hour, then spread out, checking for pursuit, reporting back to Keir on a regular basis. I was counting on that last part.

When the last man passed the fork in the road, I dismounted, and removed my cloak and shoes.

“This is dangerous, Lara.” Simus frowned. “You’ll be alone on the road, with no protection. At least let me follow at a distance to watch over you.”

“No, Simus, I forbid it.” I shivered in the white shift and crammed the cloak and shoes into the saddlebags. “Your people love a grand gesture, and this certainly qualifies.” I handed Simus the reins. “ The Warlord has claimed me. I will take nothing except from his hands. I just wish I knew how he will take this.” After all, I had his heart, he’d said so himself.

“Would that I could offer you assurances, but all I know for certain is that he will be furious.” Simus sighed, then flashed a grin. “So will Joden. Tell him I will send my words. Be well, Warprize.”

“Be well, Simus.” I turned and walked away, down the road, following the army.

We were still within sight of the city walls, and I could hear a faint cheer as I started down the road. Word had spread of my intentions, and there was a crowd along the walls, watching me go. Othur, Warren, and Simus would take good care of the kingdom, of that I was sure. I was not sure how this grand gesture of mine would be received.

I could see the army moving away up ahead, the cloud of dust still visible. The road was pounded dirt and cool beneath my feet. I walked carefully, trying to avoid the sharper stones and keeping my pace deliberate, not hurried. I had a long way to go before I caught up, and would need my strength. The breeze picked up, cut through my white sheath and blew my hair around my head. I’d left it down, deliberately trying to look as I had looked that night.

I tried to keep my thoughts still and quiet, but I had little success. With every step I imagined Keir’s anger when he realized what I had done. My head was filled with mental images of being whipped at a post, or just trampled under the hoofs of his horse. I bit my lip as a stray stone cut into my foot. Best I start watching where I walked, instead of thinking about what might happen. I tried to stay in the clear parts of the road, avoiding horse dung. Perhaps going barefoot had not been the wisest choice.

The sky was a vibrant orange when I finally heard the thunder of hooves behind me. I didn’t turn, just continued to walk at a steady pace. For a brief moment, I feared that Simus or Othur had sent troops after me. But instead, as Simus had predicted, the first of the rear scouts moved past me at a gallop, their horses veering around me. One looked back, and let out a yelp of surprise. He pulled on the reins so hard his horse reared, legs splayed in its effort to stop. The other scout, hearing the noise, pulled his sword, and turned off the road, arcing back to me.

I ignored them and kept walking.

The first scout came up on horseback. “Warprize?” he asked, looking horrified. I looked up to see Tant, the warrior that had been whipped for falling asleep on watch.

The other scout came up, scanning for danger. He glanced at his partner. “That’s the Warprize?”

Tant swung down from his horse, to stand beside me. “Warprize, what are you doing here? Where is your escort?”

I walked past him. “I am returning to the Warlord’s side.” I kept moving. They followed, Tant leading his horse, the other remaining in the saddle.

“Warprize, please mount, and we will take you to the Warlord.” Tant’s voice came over my shoulder. “ There’s really no need for you to walk.”

“She’s barefoot.” The other observed.

I kept moving, looking forward. “My Warlord has claimed me. I will take nothing except from his hands. ”

Tant came along side, and he gulped. “Warprize, the army will not rest for at least another two marks. It’ ll be some time before you reach him, and I can’t allow…” I glared at him and he did not complete the sentence. He stopped dead, and I heard curses muttered behind me. I just kept walking, determined to continue on. There was an argument going on behind me.

“You go tell the Warlord.”

“No, I’ll stay with her, you go tell the Warlord.”

The argument continued, then the same voice snarled. “Pluck hairs, then. Short hair goes.”

After a moment there was a snort of triumph and then the mounted scout was galloping off toward the army. Tant caught up with me, his voice pleading. “Warprize, please, take my boots and cloak. You’re cold, and your feet are bleeding.”

In point of fact, they burned like flames. “No.” I kept walking.

Muttering something, Tant raised his hands to the sky as he walked beside me. I wasn’t sure if it was a prayer or curse, but I distinctly heard “Why me?” I was tired, my feet hurt, and I wasn’t going to listen to his whining on top of it all. “Return to your duties.”

“With all due respect, Warprize, I will not.” Tant caught up again, his horse protesting at being jerked forward. “If you’ll not take my help, at the least, I’ll guard you.”

“You disobey the Warprize?” I looked at him.

“Yes, if that’s the choice.” He twisted the reins in his hands. “The way the Warlord’s been stomping around like a crazed ehat, snapping and snarling at any that come near, I’ll disobey you. Better a punishment at your hands then death at the Warlord’s.”

I nodded, faced forward and kept walking. But my heart was a bit lighter. Snapping and snarling, was he? Like an ehat, eh?

Of course, I still didn’t know what an ehat was.

It seemed like hours before there was a commotion ahead of us. A cloud of dust betrayed the horsemen coming hard and fast up the road. My self-appointed guard faded back as Keir came thundering into view, galloping his horse, his scarlet cloak flaring behind him. There were a few more men behind him. I stopped and stood where I was, waiting.

Keir reared his horse to a stop in front of me. The animal towered over me, and I could hear its harsh breathing. I kept my eyes down, on the road.

“What in the name of all the elements do you think you are doing?”‘ Keir thundered.

“Following my Warlord.” I kept my voice steady.

“You have sworn fealty to me, to hold these lands.” He moved his horse, circling me. I could feel the heat of his gaze on my neck, and shivered at the bite in his words.

“The queen may have so sworn, the warprize has not.” I lifted my eyes as his horse moved in front of me. His face was distorted with rage. I swallowed hard, but continued. “The warprize follows the warlord.”

The horse moved to circle me again. “I’ll have you taken back to the castle.”

“That just means that I will have to walk this all over again.”

Keir brought the horse around again to face me. “Not if you’re chained to your throne,” he snarled.

Joden coughed from the side of the road, where he sat on his horse. Marcus was beside him, mounted as well, wrapped in his familiar cloak. Keir whipped his head around. “What?”

Joden shrugged. “Well, it occurs to me that the army is marching away from us as we speak.”

Marcus piped up. “And when your high and mightiness is finished hollering, ya might notice that she is bleeding.”

Keir’s head whipped around, and his nostrils flared as he raked me with his glance. I tried not to fidget under his glare. He cursed. “Ride with Marcus. We will see to your feet, and return you to the castle.” He turned his horse away from me.

“No.”

“What!” Keir jerked his horse’s head around, and the animal snorted in protest.

I looked up. “My Warlord is sworn to care for me. I will take nothing except at his hands.”

Joden started laughing at that. “Oh, what a song this will make!”

Keir cursed again, dismounted and stalked over to me. I clasped my hands tight together as he moved into my space, coming as close as he could without touching me. I closed my eyes and trembled, craving his warmth and touch. He stood there for a moment, breathing. Breathing in the scent of the vanilla that I had rubbed into my hair and skin.

If this didn’t work there would be no need for chains. I was certain that if we parted again, a part of me would simply die. I opened my eyes and stared up into his, where his anger raged unabated. Hope died in my breast. This wasn’t going to work.

I swallowed hard, and went to my knees before him there on the road.

I didn’t make it. At the first hint of what I was about to do, he swept his cloak off and wrapped it about my shoulders. Then picking me up, he cradled me in his arms, and headed for his horse. “Joden,” he barked.

Joden dismounted, and handed his reins to Marcus. Keir handed me off to him, then turned to his own horse. Joden smiled at me, his round face almost split by his wide smile. “Oh, Lara, what a song I will make of this!” He kept his voice down, as Keir brought his horse in close. I bit my lip, afraid that Joden was speaking too soon.

Joden lifted me up to Keir, who cradled me in his arms. Jo-den’s voice rang out loudly. “I return your warprize, Warlord.”

Keir shot him an angry look, but said nothing. He turned his horse toward the army, and we set off. I noticed that Tant had made himself scarce. He was no where to be seen.

As we rode, I worked a hand free and lifted it to Keir’s cheek. I could feel his jaw clenching under my hand.

“The Council of Xy agreed that I would serve the kingdom better as warprize.”

The muscles of his jaw moved under my fingers, but he said nothing.

“I made Othur Warden of Xy. He will take good care of my people and the land.”

Keir stared straight ahead, controlling the horse as we rejoined the army. The cloak had fallen to my shoulders, and I heard the warriors react as they saw my hair whipping about in the wind.

I kept talking, murmuring my words softly. “This is what I want, Keir.”

He didn’t look at me. “Marcus! Find Gils and figure out where they stored the medicines. Have him come and tend her. And find her some clothes and shoes.”

“Aye, Warlord.” Marcus moved off, but Keir still didn’t look at me.

I tried again. “You have only to hear my heartbeat to know that each beat is for you.”

He did not respond. I swallowed hard. “For us.”

No response.

Nothing.

I closed my eyes and pulled back my hand, afraid that I had lost.

A finger under my chin forced my head up, and I opened my eyes to find him gazing down at me. Those blue eyes were suspiciously bright, with a trace of humor as he bent his head to whisper against my lips.

“Forever.”

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