Warlord

Chapter 9

“Simus!” I ran over and he swept me up in a bear hug, laughing loudly. The sound made my heart dance, and I laughed with him as he twirled me around and then set me gently on my feet.

We were surrounded by my four guards and Amyu and everyone was talking at once, but that never dimmed the gleam in Simus’s eyes. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked down into my eyes. “Are you well?”

“As well as I can be.” I smiled at him. “I am so glad to see you.”

His eyebrows danced and he turned to face our foes. “SILENCE!”

Everyone obeyed.

“The Warprize is my healer,” he said, using the Xyian word. “She must see the wound that she tended. Out, all of you! This is done under the bells!”

They all looked at one another, and one of the youngest looking warrior-priests shifted his weight from foot to foot. Amyu spoke first. “Our orders are that she not have contact with Keir of the Cat, or his supporters.”

“Pah.” Simus walked over to one of the stools and sat. “You may listen, if you wish. I will not use the bells. But outside. NOW!”

They scattered.

Simus looked at me and grinned. I couldn’t help grinning back at him, even as I shook my head. “That was rude, Simus of the Hawk.”

“They should not have sent girls to do woman’s work.” He replied in perfect Xyian. “They don’t know how to deal with me. But they will have sent word to someone who does. So let us speak, eh?” He stood, and started to unbuckle his belt. “Let me show you the scar, Warprize. It is a wonder.” He spoke in the language of the Plains, loud enough that anyone could hear.

“Should I get my satchel?” I tried not to laugh.

“Yes, by all means, please get your wondrous herbs and potions,” Simus bellowed, yanked down his trous and sat back down. “Eln said to tell you that he thought it was doing very well.”

I went and got my satchel, and returned to admire the scar along his thigh. It had healed well. “Did it give you any trouble on the way here?”

“None,” Simus replied, then switched to Xyian. “And we rode hard. The Council sent word that they required the truths of Atira. I knew that you and your beloved would need my help. So, we are here.”

“We?” I pulled out the scar ointment from the depths of my satchel, and started to open it. How odd it was to hear my native tongue again. I almost had to think before I spoke.

“We,” Simus replied. “Atira, Keir, Marcus, and Joden. And one of your land, the son of the cook.”

“How is her leg?” I asked, absently. But then my head snapped up in surprise. “Heath? Heath is here?”

“He is,” Simus replied in Xyian. He paused for a moment, then spoke again loudly, switching languages. “The friend of your youth, Heath of Xy, he is here with messages of your people. I will send him to speak to you, if these fools will permit.” Simus gave me a grin, switching back to Xyian. “I will send him with messages.” He stretched his leg out, to give me access. “Keir is raging like a wounded ehat, furious that he cannot see you. But Marcus and I, with Keekai’s help, are talking sense into that thick head of his.”

I smiled. “I know what an ehat looks like now.”

Simus laughed, and switched to his language. “You must tell me of the hunt. All the details, now!”

I laughed, but Simus grew serious, and switched back to Xyian. “There are dangers here, Lara. Make no mistake.”

“There was an attack—”

“Keir and I know of it.” Simus sighed. “What we do not know is who was behind it. You are safe enough here.”

“Am I?” I asked softly, in Xyian. “Amyu is of the Boar and the guards are all warrior-priests.”

“The honor of the entire Council depends on your safety.” Simus looked grim. “Amyu is a child and will obey her elders. Your guards will protect you. But they will report if you try to see Keir, you understand?”

I nodded.

“Watch for Iften, and Gathering Storm. There is a warrior-priest not to be trusted.”

“Gathering Storm? Which one is that?” I asked.

Simus grinned. “The one you doused with that stink, remember?” He turned his face slightly and spoke loudly for the listeners, switching languages easily. “You worked a marvel, Warprize. My leg is as new.”

“Is there any pain when you walk?” I asked, following his example. I smeared the ointment on the scar, to soften the tissue.

“None.” Simus gave me a genuine smile. “You saved my leg and my life as a warrior, Little Healer. May the elements allow me to return the favor some day.”

I smiled at him, but looked away, and spoke in Xyian. “If you have spoken with Joden, then you know how he feels about me now. After the plague, he no longer supports us.”

“Pah.” Simus gave a snort. “The man is merely confused. I will set him straight.” He leaned in closer. “The telling of truths begins tomorrow. It is not likely that you will be allowed to listen. But do not fear, Lara. All will be—”

Wild Winds strode into the tent, with my guards and Amyu just behind.

Simus looked over casually. “Ah, Warrior-Priest. Come to see the work of the Warprize? A Master Healer.”

Wild Winds arched an eyebrow, then took another step to stare down at Simus’s leg. He looked closely. “A deep wound.”

“To the bone,” Simus replied proudly. He stretched out his leg for everyone to see. Everyone stared at it, even Amyu, with particular fascination.

“What is the purpose of that?” Wild Winds gestured to the jar in my hands.

I stood and offered it to him. “An ointment that aids the healing. It will help the scar to fade.”

“What?” Simus protested. “Why fade an honorable wound, honorably earned?”

Wild Winds raised an eyebrow. “Regardless, the Daughter of Xy is not to have contact with Keir of the Cat, or those—”

“We spoke of healing matters.” Simus stood, and pulled on his trous with great dignity.

“They spoke in the tongue of city-dwellers,” one of the guards piped up.

Simus let his eyebrows raise. “You do not know the tongue? I didn’t realize that.” He turned then, and gave me a bow, reaching for my hand to kiss it. “My thanks again, Xylara, Daughter of Xy.”

I gave him a curtsey, and he smiled, and turned back to face Wild Winds. “After you, Warrior-priest.”

He herded them out, all but Amyu, who gave me an odd look as she tied the tent flap closed. I ignored her, and returned to the sleeping area and sat on the bed. I opened my hand and stared at the small bar of vanilla soap that Simus had pressed into my hand. I could hear him arguing with the warrior-priest, his voice fading in the distance.

I smiled at the little square, even as my eyes filled with tears. Keir was here, and close. Where else could Simus have gotten it? Keir had bought up every bar that the herb merchant in Water’s Fall had for sale. I held it up to my nose and drew in the scent. It made me feel better, knowing that he was close. I just wished that he was here, with me, and could share my tent and my bed this night.

Atira was here. They’d summoned her, to hear her truths. But when had I lied to her? I sat there, trying to remember, but I couldn’t. Of course, the first time I’d met her, I’d kicked her awake. I flushed at the memory.

But what was Heath doing here? Were Anna and Othur alright? I bit my lower lip, and worried it with my teeth. Heath wasn’t really a supporter of Keir. Maybe they would let me see him, to get news of home. I flushed a bit, with a guilty sense that I hadn’t given home much thought since leaving Xy. There was more at stake here than just Keir and me. My people would benefit as much as if not more than the Plains would if I was confirmed.

There was a slight cough, and I shoved the bar under my skirt. “Enter.”

Amyu appeared, and inclined her head. “The hot water, as you requested.”

“Thank you.” I watched as she placed the bucket off to the side, along with some clean cloths. I’d have to be careful not to make too much of a mess. I yawned, as once again my tiredness swept over me.

“Is it true? That your people bathe under the bells?” Amyu asked, giving me an odd look under her lashes as she fussed with the placement of the cloths.

“Yes.” I arched an eyebrow at her. “My Warlord was able to arrange for me to bathe under the bells at all times, when I was with him. Xyians are very private about their bodies.”

She frowned. “But Simus of the Hawk was naked.”

“Healers have to see their patients’ bodies in order to heal them. It is an exception to the rule.”

“I will see what can be done, about the bathing.” I could see that she was still puzzled, but she gave me another glance. “It is said that you will ‘heal’ any that ask.”

I nodded. “I will.”

She looked at me intently, then abruptly left.

I narrowed my eyes, and almost went after her, to push the issue. But I didn’t. I couldn’t force people to accept my healing ways. I’d learned that lesson with Iften. Sooner or later, I’d learn Amyu’s problem.

For now, I had hot water and soap. After that, sleep in a comfortable bed. The morning would be here, soon enough.

And, maybe, a glimpse of Keir.

I awoke at some point close to dawn. My eyes were heavy, the bed warm and soft beneath my body. I reached out for him, half-awake as my hand moved, fingers searching for the familiar skin.

Keir wasn’t there.

That brought me awake, and I blinked in the darkness. I’d blown out my fat little lamp earlier, and all that was left was the glow from the braziers that heated the tent. That was the light I was used to, in Keir’s tent.

The loneliness caught me by surprise. The deep longing had settled in my chest before I even really knew what was happening, and I had to stifle a sob. I didn’t want Amyu and the guards to know of my weakness.

I sat up in the bed, tucking the soft blankets under my arms. The noises that I had grown used to, the sounds of an army around me, were gone as well. There were still noises, but it was mostly of pennants flying in the breeze, and the occasional footstep outside.

I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed. There was little chance that I’d sleep now. I could hear the accusations of Antas in my head, his shouts loud and clear.

Iften would testify, Joden would testify. How did Keir think that I’d be confirmed, with that kind of opposition? Especially when Antas clearly agreed with Iften? Would our truths be enough to sway the Council?

All the fear and tension of the last few days swept through me. What was I doing here, alone in the tents of the Firelanders? Who could be trusted? What was going to happen?

My head hurt. I rubbed my temples, and tried not to weep. But the weight of my thoughts bore down on me, alone, in the darkness.

Amyu had left some kavage by the braziers. I slid out of bed, into the cool of the darkness. I shivered, and padded over for a drink. I also found some tapers there, and put one against the coals of the brazier. A lick of flame popped up. I carefully carried it over, and re-lit my little lamp. The flame seemed to leap and chortle within its depths, as if happy to be there.

I slid back into the warmth of the bed, covering myself with the blankets. I pulled one of the pillows close. The fabric was smooth against my cheek as I hugged it, staring at the little flame. The light danced on the tent walls.

I closed my eyes and thought of Keir.

The way he’d looked on the practice grounds when I’d first realized that he’d claimed me in honor, not in shame. That afternoon meal by the pool, when we’d loved under the alders. Gently, the memories soothed me.

I opened my eyes to watch the light from the lamp as it sputtered slightly. A soft smile curved over my lips, and my body relaxed.

It had been my choice to allow Keekai to bring me here. I wouldn’t let the fear stop me. Stop us. I’d trust Keir, as he trusted me. As we’d learned to trust each other.

I shifted slightly on the bed, and let my hand linger over my stomach. Still no sign of my courses. I’d no indications either way, but it was possible that I was carrying our child. Another memory flashed over my eyes, of Keir playing with Meara, making her giggle.

My child would be my heir, and would take the throne upon my death. How could I make these people understand that? Would they understand? Or would they insist that my babe be raised in the tradition of the Plains?

But from everything I’d seen of the Plains, their children were treasured and loved. They might not follow the traditions of Xy, but even the toughest warriors played and cared for their children.

I yawned. What would our child look like? My curls? Keir’s eyes?

My eyelids grew heavy and I drifted off to sleep.

I was eating breakfast when Amyu announced Essa the Singer’s arrival.

I’d just enough time to swallow my last mouthful and stand before he swept inside. He was a tall man, and very broad of shoulder. His robes were all different colors of green this morning, and his armor was hardened brown leather. He carried a sword and two daggers. But what really caught my attention was the tattoo around his right eye, of a bird’s wing.

“Good morning, Eldest Singer Essa.” I gestured to my small table, and the other stool. “May I offer you kavage? Have you eaten?”

He cocked an eyebrow, clearly aware of the irony, but he sat, carefully arranging his robes. “I would wel come kavage.”

Amyu served us both. Essa nodded his head as he took the full mug. “My thanks, child.” We sat for a mo ment in silence as we drank our kavage and Amyu began to clear the dishes.

“Daughter of Xy, the Council meets today to hear the truths of the Warriors that have been summoned. Your presence is not required.”

“What if I want to be there?” I asked. “To hear what is said of me?”

“That would not be permitted,” Essa stated firmly. “Each warrior will be heard separately.”

“Who? Who will speak?”

He paused considering. “Simus, Atira, Yers, Iften. Some others, perhaps.”

“Joden?”

Essa frowned at his kavage. I had the strong impression that he was upset about something other than my confirmation. “That has not yet been decided.”

“Why wouldn’t you hear from him?”

“It is not so much whether we hear, as to what weight his words are given.”

I fussed with my mug for a moment, covering my thoughts. “Is that because he is not yet a Singer?”

Essa paused again, taking a long sip of kavage. He was stalling, probably trying to decide how much to tell me. I was fairly certain he wouldn’t tell me anything, but he lowered the mug, and began to speak. “The words of a singer carry great weight. Iften of the Boar has asked that the Council treat Joden’s truths as those of a Singer. He argues that this should be done because no full Singer was present.” Essa shook his head. “But Joden of the Hawk has broken with our ways and there is debate as to whether this should be done.”

Now it was my turn to delay, and I took a sip of kavage, uncertain how to reply. Joden was a friend, but he had made it clear that he would speak against Keir and me before the Council. “What is your position in all of this?”

Essa snorted softly. “You know that Singers hold words given to them in confidence close to their hearts?”

I nodded.

“They also keep their thoughts to themselves, as well.”

I blushed at the reprimand.

Essa sat his mug down, and waved Amyu off when she would have offered more. I decided to change the topic. “If I can’t listen to the truths, can I go out and walk around? I’ve never seen anything like the Heart of the Plains.”

While his face didn’t change, I could tell that he was pleased. “Of course. You may come and go as you wish. But your guards will accompany you. They have instructions as to who you may have contact with. I would ask that you obey those restrictions.”

“I will follow your ways,” I answered. “But may I see Heath?”

“I do not know the name. Of what tribe?”

“Of Xy.” I smiled. “One of my lands, who came here with Simus of the Hawk.”

Essa’s blank look was replaced with one of humor. “I see no harm.” He gave me an intent look. “We keep you from Keir so that—”

“So that I am free to make my own choice,” I cut in. “Essa, if I was going to change my mind, I’d have done it when Antas was yelling at me that first night.”

“As to that,” he replied, “you must know that the Council has decided that while you are not yet confirmed, the courting should begin now. The snows approach, Daughter of Xy, and there is no time to waste.”

My throat went dry. This had been explained to me, but I’d managed not to think about it. “Now?”

“The other warlords will be given a chance to court you. Each will send word, and Amyu will escort you to their tents. Each will try to convince you of their strength and skills.” Essa smiled at me. “You control the courting, Xylara. If you wish it to end, you have but to say so. If you wish it to continue, indicate that as well.”

I nodded, but didn’t speak.

Essa looked over at Amyu, and then back at me. “Have your needs been seen to, Xylara? You have but to ask for something and it will be provided.”

“A bath.” I found my voice quickly enough. “With hot water.”

Essa gave me a puzzled look.

“Xyians bathe under the bells,” Amyu offered.

“Really?” Essa didn’t seem impressed with the idea. “If that is what you wish, I will see what can be done.” He rose and adjusted his robes and weapons, about to depart. “Is there anything else?”

I looked at him, tall and straight, really looked at him. He waited patiently, allowing me to study him, and that bird’s wing around his eye.

“Would you sing something for me?” I blurted out.

Essa’s eyebrows went all the way up. Amyu looked shocked.

I fidgeted slightly, and looked away. “I’m sorry. I heard Joden sing a few times, and he has a wonderful voice. You are a full Singer and I wanted to . . .” My voice trailed off.

“I am honored.” Essa tilted his head. “What songs have you heard?”

I grimaced. “Mostly sad songs.” I sighed. “Although Joden sang a funny breakfast song for us when we celebrated the ehat hunt.”

“Perhaps something more fitting your mood, yes?” He took a deep breath, and began to sing. His wonder ful voice filled the tent. It wasn’t as deep as Joden’s but it held the same kind of power.

I listened, spellbound, as he sang. The first verse spoke of the sun rising, and lovers laying in the cool grass, their bodies bathed in the light of the dawn. As the star disappeared from the morning sky, they ap peared in his lover’s eyes.

Essa took a breath, and the second verse talked of the sun at the nooning, with the lovers riding their horses side by side. Their shadows danced over the grasses and their skin was slick with warmth and sweat. The Plains shone gold in the daylight, but the stars were still in his lover’s eyes.

Another breath on Essa’s part, and the sun sank down, to set on the Plains. Now the lovers danced in the light of the fire, their bodies yearning for one another. The stars were still hidden in the light of the sunset, but he turned to his beloved to see their gleam in her eyes.

The last notes of the song died away. Essa closed his mouth, and looked at me.

I swallowed hard. “That was beautiful, Eldest Singer Essa. But,” I felt myself tearing up as I spoke, “there is another verse, isn’t there?”

“There is.” Essa tilted his head to look at me. “Would you hear it?”

“Yes. Please.”

In the song, the sun was gone. The moon was high in the endless darkness, and his beloved had gone to the snows. His body ached for her scent and touch. The words explained that the darkness covered his sorrow, and his blade would end it. For even the stars cannot compare to the warmth of her eyes.

I dropped my eyes, remembering Isdra, and her pain.

As the last notes faded away, I looked up. Essa nodded his head to me, and left the tent.

Amyu wasn’t going to go with me on my walk, claiming the press of chores. But I convinced her to come with me, since I knew that the warrior-priest guards wouldn’t talk to me, or answer my questions. In point of fact, I noticed that the guards that appeared when I left the tent were older, and more experienced. I suspected that the younger ones had been replaced after the incident with Simus, but I didn’t say anything.

Besides, I was proud of myself, that I could start to tell them apart. Once Keekai had told me of the one distinctive tattoo, it was much easier.

I exited the tent, putting on my cloak, and stopped dead in my tracks.

“Xylara?” Amyu was behind me, her cloak over her shoulders.

“I thought there was a wide walkway here. Last night, I am almost positive ...” I looked around, puzzled. There was a wide open area in front of the tent now, with other tents surrounding it.

“There was.” Amyu stepped forward, and my guards moved into position. “But the Tribe of the Snake wishes to dance tonight, for a new babe, born into the tribe.”

“So they moved their tents.” I took a few steps forward. “Does that happen often?”

“Of course.” Amyu looked at me oddly. “They’re just tents.”

“Of course,” I echoed. We started walking, skirting the open area to a walkway off to the side. “But if everything moves, how do you know where anything is?”

She took my question seriously. “Some things do not move. Waste areas, fire pits. And the herds are always beyond.” She flashed me a look. “We have a saying. ‘The Heart of the Plains is always beating.’ ”

I nodded in response, too busy looking around to talk.

There were people everywhere. Talking, laughing arguing. In front of tents, repairing tents, knocking tents down. Even as I watched, a section of tents collapsed, and warriors were loading them onto pack beasts.

“Are they moving?” I asked.

Amyu shrugged. “Moving or leaving. The snows come, and many are setting out.”

“Does anyone stay here during the snows?”

Amyu shrugged. “A few. The lodges here are small.”

The sun was warm on my face, but there was enough of a chill to the breeze that I was glad for my cloak as we walked.

But the people had caught my attention again. A group of small children ran past, laughing and chasing each other. They all had a wooden dagger in their belt, and a wooden sword at their side or strapped to their back. The children swirled around us, and then ran off between the tents. I laughed, enjoying their innocent mirth.

Then a man stepped between the tents, and blocked my view.

I looked up, right at Prest.

He stood there, tall and strong, with Epor’s warclub strapped to his back. He’d shaved his head when he’d been sprayed with ehat musk, so his hair was still very, short. I sucked in a breath in surprise at seeing him.

He waited until he knew I had seen him, winked at me, and walked off.

I stumbled a bit, but Amyu was walking ahead of me, so I focused on following her. None of my guards had noticed anything.

I stifled my grin. “So, do the Tribes stay together when they camp here?”

Amyu shrugged. “Most warriors like to be close to the theas and the little ones. So Tribes do camp together. But there are no formal lines that are drawn. All are free to camp where they please.”

A fight broke out to our left, two female warriors taking blades to one another. My warrior-priest guards moved to avoid the clash when it spilled onto our path. I allowed myself to be steered off to the side. A flash of red caught my eye, and I looked behind us for a moment.

There stood Ander and Yveni, just behind us. Ander was grinning like a fool, and Yveni was smirking. They stepped off the path before anyone noticed them standing there.

I didn’t bother to suppress my grin this time.

We rounded a corner, and I spotted a crowd gathered around something on the ground. Two warriors were sitting there, studying something on the ground between them. Others stood over them, watching intently.

As I drew closer I realized they were playing chess.

“I want to see this,” I told Amyu, and moved closer, not waiting for her approval. I craned my head around to see the board that lay before them. Sure enough, it was chess, with pieces carved of wood. I chuckled when I saw the castles had been replaced with ehats.

One of the players looked up. “Warprize!” He scrambled to his feet. The crowd eased back so that I could get closer.

“Warrior.” I gave him a nod. “How goes the game?”

He laughed. “I am showing them all my prowess, Warprize.”

“Where did you learn it? Were you with Keir’s army?”

He nodded. “I was, Warprize. Didn’t last long in the tourney, either. Keir of the Cat is too good at the game.”

The mention of Keir’s name made my guards restless. I gestured for him to return to his game. “Good luck, Warrior.”

“My thanks, Warprize.” His voice followed me as he settled back to his game, and I returned to my guards.

Amyu was frowning. “I thought they planned a pattern dance.”

I shook my head. “It is a game of Xy, called ‘chess’. I taught it to Keir and some others. It is very popular with the warriors of his army.”

We kept walking, and I soaked it all in, the sights and sounds of Keir’s people. It was only when Amyu suggested that she needed to prepare the meal for the nooning that I agreed to return to my tent.

It was as we were strolling back that I spotted him. It wasn’t easy to do, but a movement in the shadows of a tent caught my eye.

It was Marcus. Fully cloaked, and hidden between two tents.

I almost felt like crying, but I kept moving, not wanting to put him at risk. How hard was it for him to move about, in a city of people who thought him afflicted?

They were here, all here, and that meant that Keir was close as well. I drew a deep breath of satisfaction, and kept walking.

We were almost to the tent, when a warrior came towards us, at a run. “Warprize! Warprize!”

“Here!” I called out, and the warrior ran over. My guards reacted, drawing their weapons as if to ward him off. The warrior stopped just outside their reach.

“Warprize.” He sucked in air in order to speak. “Warprize, there is one that is ill. You must come.”

“No.” One of the guards spoke.

The warrior ignored him. “Warprize, I fear it is the plague.”