Warlord

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Warlord Page 2

by Elizabeth Vaughan


  Firelanders had a very different attitude toward privacy than my people. For Firelanders bathing together and strolling nude was the custom, with no regard for modesty, even between men and women. As Joden had pointed out to me, there was little privacy to be found in the tents of the Firelanders.

  I sighed. Joden was something else I didn’t want to think about.

  In the overnight camps, no one wasted time cutting down trees for seats. Instead, we used the saddle blankets as pads. Dirt and moisture seemed to fall right off the odd wool. Seated by the fire, with a cloak over my shoulders, I was comfortably warm. Winter had moved into the mountains, and while we were moving down onto the Plains, frost still nipped at our heels. The sky was clear, it would be cold tonight.

  Marcus was cutting meat and brewing kavage, and would tolerate no help from me. I was too tired to do much more than sit. So I pulled my satchel close and opened the flap. I’d been using it since—

  Since Gils died.

  My hands stilled on the scarred leather. Gils was the young Firelander who’d asked to be my apprentice, breaking the traditions of his people. The image of his freckled face and red curls flashed before me. He’d been so young, so eager, with dancing green eyes and that cheeky grin.

  I closed my eyes, and fought my tears. Goddess, hold him close.

  And hold the souls of Epor and Isdra. The warriors who’d entered the village with me, and were the first to face the plague. Well, Epor had. Isdra had joined her bonded on the night of the mourning ceremony. Their faces, too, flashed before me. Along with the hundreds that had died of a sickness that I couldn’t prevent or cure.

  If only …

  “Here,” Marcus’s gruff voice interrupted my thoughts. A cup of kavage was held under my nose. “Drink. Stop thinking on the dead.”

  I took the cup, the dark and bitter brew steaming in the cool air. “Marcus—” I sighed, cradling the warm mug in my hands. “How did you know?”

  “Who does not brood over loved ones?” Marcus’s voice was gruff. “Those of our hearts, that we will not see again until the Longest Night?” Marcus’s voice softened and I looked up at him through my tears. “We have mourned the dead, Lara. For now, it is enough.”

  “But, I miss them,” I answered, wiping my eyes with my free hand. “And I regret—”

  “Their spirits ride with us until the snows,” Marcus responded. “Unseen and unknown, unless they wish it so. Yet knowing and seeing, in their own way. Send your thoughts to them, yes. But not always the sorrow. Remember the joy as well. Like when the young’ un read Simus’s letter to you. Yes?”

  I smiled at the memory. “Yes.”

  Marcus grunted in satisfaction, then returned to his work. I blew on the surface of the kavage and took a sip. The heat spread through my body, and I continued to sip, remembering Gils’s eagerness, and the time I caught Epor and Isdra kissing by the well.

  But there was still an ache in my heart.

  Still, not everyone had died. We’d saved so many, including Meara. The baby had finally fallen ill, so quickly we’d barely noticed until she’d been at the brink of death. But we’d saved her, by the grace of the Goddess. I smiled as I remembered her angry cry when we’d revived her in the cold water of the lake. She’d been so furious, her face scrunched up tight, her eyelashes thick and dark with tears. But her cries had been like music. We’d come so close to losing her.

  As we’d lost Gils.

  I looked down at the leather satchel at my side. It had been Gils’s. He’d made it from an old saddlebag, adding a thick strap and lots of pockets for ‘useful things’. I’d used it since he’d died, but hadn’t really cleaned it out. Just kept stuffing things in and rummaging around without really thinking about the contents. I pulled it closer, intending to empty it out and repack it.

  “Heyla!”

  Keir was coming at a gallop. The sight brought a smile to my face, for he was quite a figure, dressed in his black leathers, on his big black warhorse, framed by the setting sun. I threw back the cloak and ran to greet him.

  He pulled his horse to a stop and dismounted with one swift move. His black cloak swirled out around him as he caught me in his arms, and hugged me tight, claiming my lips in a kiss. He smelled of horse and leather and himself, and I returned the kiss with passion.

  He broke off with a laugh, and swung me up into his arms, striding toward our tent. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and nuzzled his ear, certain of his intent and in complete agreement.

  “And what of the food?” Marcus demanded, as Keir marched past the fire to our tent.

  Keir spun on his heel, and faced him. “Marcus! Want to know the best part of being a Warlord?”

  Marcus’s eyebrow rose.

  Keir’s mouth curled up slowly into a smile. “Getting what I want.”

  I laughed as Keir turned back toward the tent.

  A growl came from behind him. “The Warlord’s dinner will be dumped in the dirt if Hisself does not eat it now.”

  Keir paused in mid-step. From his expression, he was torn with rare indecision.

  “The meal is ready now,” Marcus continued. “It will be eaten now.”

  Keir looked at me with such a sorrowful expression in his bright blue eyes. Just then his stomach rumbled, and I laughed right out loud.

  We ate as the sky above us turned a vivid dark blue and deepened to black. The stars hung bright in the night sky, with the moon glowing through the trees. Marcus finished refilling our mugs with kavage, and was cleaning the remains of our meal away when he asked his question. “How goes it with the warriors?”

  I was seated next to Keir, leaning against his shoulder, a cloak over both of us. But I leaned away enough to see his face as he replied.

  Keir sighed. “Not as well as I could wish. Iften talks, and the warriors look at empty pack animals and empty saddle bags, and wonder if they have done the right thing in following me.” He reached over to stroke my hair. “I tell my truths, but words weigh little.”

  I leaned over and brushed his lips with mine. There wasn’t much that I could say to that. Keir’s conquest of Xy was a break in tradition for the Firelanders. Their normal practice was to raid and plunder what they could, to return to the Plains laden with spoils. But Keir wanted to change their ways, to conquer and hold, for the benefit of both peoples.

  “Fools,” Marcus grumbled. “They can’t see past the heads of their horses.”

  “But Keir, that’s not quite true. They’ve pots of fever’s foe, and that bloodmoss that we gathered.” I yawned. “They know more than they did before about fevers.” Goddess knew that was true. We’d pots and pots of fever’s foe left from treating the plague, and everyone had aided in the treatment of the sick. I’d spread the extra out, making sure that everyone had some, and was watching for signs of the plague’s return. If the Sweat reappeared in our ranks, I wanted to know. Every warrior had agreed to carry some, and keep watch, even those who rejected my healing.

  Except Iften.

  Keir gave me a thoughtful look. “That’s a truth I had not considered, Lara.”

  I smiled at him, and then yawned again, so hard my eyes watered. My stomach was full, and I was warm and growing sleepy.

  Keir leaned in, taking the cup of kavage from my hand. “You are tired tonight, beloved.” He moved closer, and put his arm around me. The warmth felt good, and I leaned in, putting my head on his shoulder, and let my eyes drift closed.

  “She asked for lessons,” Marcus answered softly. “She wants to be able to protect you.”

  “Protect me?”

  I nodded, even as I felt sleep overtake me. Their voices continued, as the fire crackled. Then we were moving, and I found myself under the blankets with Keir at my side. I roused just enough to murmur a question in his ear.

  He chuckled softly. “Warlords also learn to wait for what they want. Sleep, Lara.”

  Content, I drifted off to sleep.

  At some point I felt Keir slip out from under the
furs. I lifted my head, my eyes half open, to see him standing there, talking to one of the guards. I must have made some sort of questioning sound, for Keir turned toward me, his eyes glittering in the faint light. He gestured for me to return to sleep.

  I let my head sink down, grateful that I didn’t have to emerge from my warm bed. I’d adopted the Firelander custom of sleeping naked. It made more sense to my way of thinking. Less clothing for Marcus to clean, for example. A sign of my respect for the Firelanders. Goddess knew, Keir seemed … appreciative.

  But as convenient as the custom was, crawling naked from warm covers to dress in cold clothes left something to be desired. So I lay my head back down and let sleep take me.

  Much later, I roused again when Keir slid back into bed. He made every effort to keep the cold air from me, but his arm brushed mine in the process.

  His skin was cold.

  He whispered an apology and pulled away. But I’d have none of that. Without really opening my eyes, I moved closer.

  He was cold. Fool Warlord, standing outside to talk to the guards, naked. I shifted slowly, crawling over him to press my body as close as I could.

  He drew a deep breath as I covered his body with mine. A shudder ran through him as I pressed my breasts to his chest, letting my warm skin come into full contact with his chilled flesh. I lifted one hand to cup his cheek, and used the other to stroke the muscles of his upper arm.

  I moved my legs between his, and tried to place my feet so that they covered his toes. With my head on his shoulder my hair spread out like a blanket over him. I hummed in pleasure at the feel of his body. The soft skin of his stomach, the coarse hairs of his legs. The occasional scar. All of it Keir. My Keir.

  He relaxed beneath me, whispering thanks. I just smiled, and let my thumb trace the soft skin of his lips. The blankets and furs held the heat of our bodies and the scent of his skin.

  I’d learned much in the ways of pleasure from my Warlord since the day he’d claimed me. As a woman, I appreciated each and every moment. As a healer, I knew that our love-making would have consequences, and in fact my courses had not come since we’d left Wellspring. While I had hopes, I had no certainty that I bore a child. I could do nothing but wait.

  There were sounds of movement outside, probably a change of the guards. The wind was picking up, causing the tent to vibrate a little. We were coming down out of the mountains with winter at our heels. Yet within this small shelter we were warm, safe, and dry.

  Gradually Keir’s body warmed and I shifted off to his side, so that the poor man didn’t have to bear my weight. I was careful to return to my side of the bed. Keir slept with his weapons next to him, and I’d no desire to bed cold steel. I nestled down next to him, content with his comfort and ready to return to sleep.

  But I’d warmed Keir in more than one way …

  2

  Now it was Keir’s turn, his hands moving over my skin, causing my heat to rise. His touch was gentle and I sighed at the pure pleasure of it.

  Encouraged, Keir claimed my lips and we spent long slow moments exploring each other’s mouths. Not that his hands stopped for a moment, teasing my skin with soft strokes of his fingertips. I squirmed as he caressed my thighs, wanting more. “Keir …”

  He chuckled softly. “There is no hurry, Lara.”

  “Keir,” I pleaded, but he just kissed me again.

  Boldly, I reached for what I craved, but he captured my wrists in one hand, thwarting my efforts. I growled, he laughed, and we tussled for a moment until he pinned my wrists over my head.

  The bedding had fallen away and the cold air danced over my heated skin, tightening my nipples and stealing my breath from my body.

  Keir loomed over me. There was just enough light to see his eyes glittering with desire, and a playfulness that I’d never seen before.

  I lifted my head, trying to gain his mouth, but he would only allow my lips to brush against his. I lay back, and puffed out a breath in frustration. Satisfied, he lowered his mouth to my chest, licked the skin between my breasts, and blew over the moist area. I sucked in a deep breath, closed my eyes and lost myself in the sensation.

  Keir didn’t stop, exploring my breasts with his mouth, ignoring the tips to concentrate on the flesh around them. I’d never felt that my breasts were attractive, being on the small side.

  Keir seemed content.

  He slipped his free hand under my back, forcing me to arch up into his mouth. Lips, tongue, even the barest scrape of his teeth, all combined to make me shiver.

  “Keir,” I begged.

  “Lara,” he murmured.

  The cold air only accented the heat between our bodies. His legs moved over mine, keeping them pressed to the bed. I moaned, trying to shift him, trying to give him access, but he ignored me, and continued to worship my breasts.

  Finally, he moved his hand to cover my lower belly, letting his warm fingers splay out. I moved my hips, but he wouldn’t let his fingers move any lower.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

  My eyes opened wide to stare into his. “I’m not … not really. I’m—”

  “Perfect.” His lips hovered over mine. “Everything you are is beautiful, flame of my heart.”

  I sobbed.

  He moved then, his fingers seeking out my depths and stroking gently. He released my wrists and I clung to him, crying out my joy and pleasure all at the same time. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted more, wanted him, and with a swift move he entered me, and I had what I wanted, and more, so much more.

  We both lay gasping, our over-heated bodies cooling in the night air. Reaching for the blankets and furs almost seemed like too much effort, but I stirred, knowing that we’d need their warmth. I pulled them up and over us. They still held our heat, and I settled back with a sigh, making sure we were both well covered.

  Keir opened his eyes and gave me a sated smile as I settled in next to him. We held each other close, and were just starting to drift off to sleep when he spoke. “You were hurt.”

  His hand was on my upper arm. I nodded. “Just a bruise. I didn’t block the blow.”

  “Marcus said you want to learn to fight.” He rubbed my arm gently. “To protect me.”

  “It scared me, when Iften …” My voice trailed off as I remembered finding Iften standing over Keir, as he lay in the grips of the plague.

  Keir wrapped his arms around me, and I lay my head on his chest. “It warms me that you want to do this, Lara.” His voice was soft in the darkness. “And to some extent, Marcus is wrong. With enough practice, you could become a fighter, if you choose. Maybe not as fast as those of the Plains, but with training you could do it. You could do anything, if you minded to.”

  I smiled against his chest.

  “But your time is better spent at what you do best, Master Healer,” Keir suggested. “Learn how to react, and to work with your guards, to be sure. But think on the abilities that you have now, and not the ones you don’t have.”

  I lifted my head. “Just as well. All that armor is hot and uncomfortable. It makes me sweat.”

  His eyes took on a gleam, and he rolled me to my back. “Is there something wrong with sweaty?”

  “Nothing at all.” I laughed as I hooked my arm over his neck and pulled his mouth down to mine. “Let me prove it to you again.”

  And again …

  The next morning I woke, with a smile on my face, to an empty bed. Keir had probably left me before dawn, his usual practice.

  I stretched under the warm covers and relaxed. That was when I noticed the silence. Where were the normal sounds of the morning, the sound of moving warriors?

  How late had I slept?

  I reached out for the pile of clothing I’d left close to the bed. I eased them into the warmth, and lay there for a moment, letting them lose some of their chill before dressing quickly. I slung my satchel over my head and settled it on my hip before emerging from the tent.

  Marcus was sitting there, with my guard
s. When I came out, they sprang up, and started moving toward the tent. Marcus spoke, his voice cutting through my morning fog. “Finally.”

  “Marcus?” I stepped out, pulling my cloak on behind me. As I left the tent, I heard it collapse behind me, and saw that Rafe, Prest and Ander were disassembling it even as I drank.

  “Hisself said to let you sleep, and so I did,” Marcus explained, as he thrust out a piece of bread with cold meat wrapped in it, and a cup of kavage. “We must ride to catch him.”

  I stuffed the food in my mouth, nodding even as I chewed. Marcus kicked the fire out and poured the last of the kavage into my cup, before packing the rest of his gear. I drank the bitter brew and looked around. The sky was a bright blue, with not a cloud anywhere to be seen. But snow lurked beyond the mountains. I could smell it in the brisk air.

  The army had already packed up and started moving. I could see the last of the warriors and horses moving off into the trees. How I’d slept through that I’d nev—

  Then I remembered what Keir and I had done last night, and smiled into my kavage.

  Marcus moved off to aid Rafe and Prest in the packing. Ander and Yveni went for one of the pack horses that stood nearby. Greatheart was with the other horses. He was asleep, of course. I was fairly certain that was why he’d been picked for me, given my so-called riding skills. I gulped more kavage as the activity caused the big brown horse to open his eyes. When he spotted me, he whickered, and started to walk my way. The other horses shook themselves as well, as if understanding that we were about to leave.

  “Where is Keir?” I asked as I finished the kavage down to the dregs. I felt much more alert with each swallow.

 

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