Warlord

by Elizabeth Vaughan

  “She honors a cripple!” Iften exclaimed, and everyone started talking at once.

  Marcus stood silent amidst the uproar, his eyes down. Only the white of his knuckles where he held Greatheart’s reins gave away his feelings.

  Keekai’s voice cut through the rumble. Her face was neutral, but her eyes were sharp and hard. “Xylara. You are of a different land, and your ways are not ours.” She gave Marcus a quick glance, then her gaze returned to me. “Your words are strange, you speak in a different tongue and this may cause confusion. The one you refer to is not—” She paused, as if looking for a word. “He is not eligible for this position. This honor.”

  “She mocks the elements and our ways,” Iften snarled, looking around at the warriors. Heads nodded in agreement.

  “Marcus saved my life twice with his weapons and his care,” I snapped, letting my voice rise with my temper. “Without him, I would not stand here. How can he not be worthy?”

  Voices arose, as angry warriors expressed their fury. And fury it was. I’d gone too far. Keekai called for silence not once, but three times, with no success.

  As she tried to get control of the situation, Keir caught my eye. He was standing there, silent, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was sympathetic, but he gave me a slight shake of his head. If Keir didn’t think I should push this issue …

  Marcus moved, dropping Greatheart’s reins, and knelt at my feet.

  The voices all cut off as his cloak settled down around him. In the silence he reached out and took my hand. “You honor me, Warprize, and I thank you. But choose another.”

  “Marcus.” My shoulders slumped as I whispered to him. “I want you with me.”

  He looked up then, his eye glittering in the shadow of his hood, and whispered back. “I wish to go with you. To see you safe. But do not deny the truth of what is, for what you wish to be.” His voice rose. “Any warrior you choose is honor bound to see you safe to the Heart of the Plains, Warprize. Do not fear.”

  I didn’t want to choose another, Goddess knew, and I pressed my lips together to try to control my anger. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

  But the look in Marcus’s eye told me that I had to accept it. At least, for now. I nodded and released his hand. “I withdraw my choice.”

  Marcus rose, and pulled his cloak in to make sure that it covered him completely. He stepped back to his position by Greatheart. The warriors around us were settling down, the warrior-priests all grim and daunting. But Iften, Iften had that smug look on his face, as if all was going well in his world. I narrowed my eyes at that moment, and the obvious choice leaped to mind.

  Keekai had her silence, and she turned back to me. “You may choose another, if you wish.”

  “I wish.” I smiled sweetly. My voice must have given my intentions away because both Keir and Marcus stiffened. Keekai noted their reaction, and gave me a searching look. “Who do you choose?”

  I stood there, staring over her head for just a moment, letting the tension build. Then I smiled at Keekai. “I choose Iften of the Boar.”

  That wiped the smirk off his face. Iften gaped like a fish, his face turning red. Everyone else looked at me with the same expression of astonishment.

  I stood, outwardly calm, even though my heart raced in my chest. Afraid that I would burst out laughing, I held my breath and waited for an outcry.

  But the only sound was the wind in the grass, and Greatheart’s soft snores. Everyone around me stood in stunned silence, then all eyes shifted to Iften’s face. Voices rose around us, but I turned my gaze to Keir.

  He was furious, with that vein throbbing in his forehead, and those vibrant blue eyes pierced through me with their fury. I just looked at him, unable to go to his side and explain. ‘Think about it, beloved.’

  Then his eyes grew thoughtful, and I knew that he was seeing some of the advantages that I saw. His eyes flicked to Iften, still struggling with the idea, and his mouth quirked slightly. When his gaze shifted back to me, the look he gave me was one of exasperation. ‘I trust you, but you might have warned me.’

  I shrugged, and smiled at him. I’d have warned him if I’d thought of it before this moment.

  “So. Iften of the Boar.” Keekai’s voice held a very formal and rather satisfied tone. “What say you?”

  Iften’s eyes darted around, from me to Keekai, to Keir, and then to the warrior-priests. I’d never seen him at a loss before.

  It felt good.

  “Iften.” Keekai’s voice was now impatient. “You have been offered the honor of Guardian to the Warprize. How say you?”

  Iften’s face was dark, his gaze coming to rest hard on mine. The hate was almost a physical blow. “I accept.”

  “Do you pledge to keep the Warprize safe and see her unharmed to the Council of the Elders at the Heart of the Plains?” Keekai pressed the point, more for Keir’s benefit than mine.

  Iften put his shoulders back. He’d recovered a bit, and the accustomed sneer was back in his voice when he spoke “I do.”

  Keekai nodded. “Then gather your gear. We depart when you are read—”

  “Elder.” Keir spoke, interrupting her.

  “What now?” Keekai snapped.

  “I’d ask that Joden of the Hawk go with you to the Heart. He should return quickly, so that he may be tested as a Singer.” Keir’s voice was bland, as if it meant nothing to him either way, but I knew he wanted someone he trusted with me on the journey.

  Keekai gave him a considering look, and turned to speak to Joden, but once again, she was interrupted.

  “No.” One of the warrior-priests spoke. It might have been Still Waters, but it was hard to tell. “That one denied mercy and must answer for it.”

  Joden had kept his face neutral, but his eyes narrowed at that point. But Keekai was already shaking her head. “My goal is the Warprize, and no other. Joden must make his own way, in his own time.”

  “But—” Keir pressed his point, but Keekai would have none of it.

  “No, Warlord.” She cut him off with a simple gesture of her hand. She turned a bit, to look at the warriors that had gathered around us. She scowled. “And don’t you all have four ehats to render? Off with you!”

  The crowd broke up, warriors scattering off to their tasks. Iften headed to his tent with a warrior-priest, both deep in conversation. Keir moved over to talk to Marcus, and they spoke in low tones. Joden and Yers had stayed behind, along with my four guards. Rafe had a faintly offended look. I caught his eyes and shrugged an apology. He looked at me for a moment, and then his smile lit his face and he shrugged back. I was forgiven.

  Marcus came toward me, leaving Keir to stand alone. He pulled Greatheart along, with a snort of protest from the horse. Without hesitation, he stepped between my warrior-priest guards and handed me the reins. Keekai turned her head to look, but didn’t object. My new warrior-priest guards didn’t even bother to look at him.

  Greatheart immediately started snuffing at my hair happily. I reached over to scratch him on his chest, just over his scar.

  “Hisself says to say he is not certain this is wise. Do not leave Keekai’s side,” Marcus spoke softly as he adjusted Greatheart’s harness.

  “I won’t.”

  “I say you do this so as to look at that one’s injury, yes?” Marcus’s one eye gleamed bright.

  I choked back a laugh, and reached out to put my hand on his arm. “I wish—”

  Marcus shook his head. “It cannot be. But you have brightened my skies, Lara.” He took my hand, and shoved the sleeve of my tunic up my arm. He was shielding our movements with his body and cloak.

  “Marcus?”

  With swift fingers, he strapped something to my arm. It took me a moment, but I recognized it. It was the knife that Heath had been given by Xymund—the knife he had been told to kill me with.

  “You release it so, and it is in your hand.” Marcus demonstrated quickly, then reset the blade and pulled my sleeve down. “Tell no one. Prac
tice when you can.”

  I nodded, unable to speak. The noises around us told me that Iften was returning. “Keep him safe for me, Marcus,” I begged.

  “See to yourself, Lara,” came the gruff answer, and Marcus turned to go. Iften was coming up, leading a horse with saddle and packs, his cloak over his arm. Marcus stepped in close and deliberately walked into Iften, knocking into his shoulder. “Be sure that you keep her safe, cripple,” Marcus hissed.

  Iften snarled, fumbling for his sword, but Marcus had already moved past.

  In the midst of all of this, I looked through the bodies and the horses to see Keir, standing tall and silent, watching me. I looked over to where Keekai was about to mount. “Keekai?”

  She turned and looked at me.

  “May I say goodbye to Keir?”

  “No.” That from a warrior-priest mounted nearby. “It is forbidden.”

  “Pah,” Keekai mocked. “As if her mind can be changed with a simple farewell.” She jerked her head in Keir’s direction, which I took as permission. My warrior-priest guards moved with me, as I walked the short distance to his side.

  Keir stepped forward and I went into his arms willingly, wrapped in their warmth and security. I rested my head on his chest above his heart, and drew a deep breath. For one long, wonderful moment, I was safe in his arms, and the world around us vanished.

  I felt Keir draw in a breath as well, and knew he felt the same. I hugged him close, trying to commit the moment to memory, waiting for his arms to fall away. But they didn’t. They tightened instead, as if he’d hold me forever.

  He couldn’t let me go.

  I lifted my head, to see the doubt, worry, and fear in his bright blue eyes. I hesitated, and Keir’s eyes changed, as if he’d made a decision of his own. His arms released me, and I knew in another moment, he’d pull his swords and refuse to let me go.

  I couldn’t let him do that. It had to be my decision, my choice.

  I shook my head slightly, and he paused. Silently, he stood and waited.

  I went up on my toes, and pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth. Then I stepped back slightly, tucking myself under his shoulder, releasing him with my right hand.

  Keir looked down as I took his left hand in mine, and lifted it, to entwine our fingers together, our hands at the level of our chests. I happened to catch Joden looking at us intently from the crowd, but I ignored him and everyone else.

  Keir lowered his head to bury his face in my hair. “Are you certain, Lara?”

  “For our people. For us,” I whispered fiercely.

  “For us,” was his soft reply.

  But still, he could not let me go. So I smiled gently, and slipped from beneath his arm, from the safety of his strength, turned and mounted Greatheart. I settled myself in the saddle, and faced the horizon.

  “Keir, you should have said that she cannot ride.” Keekai’s voice rose behind me, and I stifled a laugh that was more of a sob. I didn’t look back as I urged my sleepy brown horse into a gallop. With a snort, Greatheart launched himself forward.

  It took but a moment, then Keekai and the warrior-priests were beside me, galloping alongside, steering me in the right direction. Which was just as well.

  I couldn’t see anything through my tears.

  “So,” Keekai drew the word out. I looked across the brazier to see her bright blue eyes alight with curiosity.

  We’d traveled for most of the day, leaving Keir and the army behind, alternating our pace between a walk and a trot. As exposed as the Plains made me feel, they weren’t truly flat. But at a distance, the gradual rises and hollows were hidden to the eye. Still, the lack of trees, of something between me and the horizon, was unsettling.

  We’d covered a great deal of distance, but Keekai had called a halt well before the sun had neared the horizon, much to the dismay of the warrior-priests.

  We were seated in her tent, a brazier glowing between us. Keekai had two warriors who took care of her tent, gear, and meals—Regular warriors, and I was thankful for that. I’d had my fair share of being glared at by tattooed warrior-priests all day.

  “So. We’ve heat and kavage, and bells at the flap. You know what the bells mean?” Keekai asked.

  “That we wish to be private.” Keekai’s tent was smaller than Keir’s, but it was comfortable. Certainly it was warm enough. I was sweating under my tunic. Keekai wasn’t though. She had a blanket over her lap, and another over her shoulders.

  “So. Why Iften?” Her face was intent and curious.

  I hesitated for a moment, but Keir had said that she could be trusted. So I smiled at her. “We have a saying in Xy. ‘You can kill a cat with cream’.”

  Keekai laughed.

  Iften had ridden next to me the entire day, apparently taking his duties seriously. He’d constantly scanned the horizon for trouble, but never once bothered to speak to me.

  Which was fine with me. I used the time to get a good look at his arm and fingers.

  Sure enough, they were swollen, and had a lifeless, curled look about them. The skin was too pale, stretched thin over the puffy flesh. He was handling the reins, but I knew what was happening. He was using those leather bracers to try to splint the arm, never mind that one needed to set the bone. He was going to lose the use of the arm. By his own choice. I’d offered aid, but he’d rejected my healing skills, publicly and privately.

  Still …

  “It got Iften away from the army,” I continued. “And it allows Keir to talk to his warriors without Iften’s subtle talk against him. Iften has his own sense of honor, one that will not permit him to do anything other than see me safely to the Heart of the Plains.”

  “It also gave him a chance to spread his truths in the Heart, Lara.” Keekai shrugged. “Only the skies can say if it was wise or not. And that troublemaker Gathering Storm still remained with Keir.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  “The warrior-priest that was with Iften when I arrived,” Keekai answered. “He is called Gathering Storm, and well named, since storms arise wherever he goes.” Keekai got a sly gin on her face. “But well worth it to see Iften’s smirk wiped away, eh?”

  I laughed, and nodded my head in agreement. But then I leaned forward, to ask the question that had bothered me all day. “Keekai, are you Keir’s mother?”

  “Mother?” Keekai asked with a frown. “One who bears a child?” At my nod, she shrugged, the blanket sliding down her shoulder. Her eyes dropped down to the fabric, but not before I saw pain in her eyes. “How would I know? My teats were always dry at the birthing, and the babes given to another to suckle as soon as they popped out. He is of my tribe, that is certain.” She pulled the blanket up around her. “This is important to you? To your people?”

  I gave her a nod, still caught up in the differences between our worlds.

  “How different we are,” echoing my own thoughts, Keekai continued. “Yet we share the same skies.” She shook her head, and set her mug aside. “We will talk, you and I, as we go. I have so many questions that I wish to ask, I don’t even know where to start. But there is time. We will sleep on it.” Her grin flashed. “Besides, Still Waters will have us up at the break of dawn.” She stood and reached for my mug. “Best that we sleep together, you and I. Iften has his own honor, but let’s not test it too far, eh?” She headed for the tent flap. “I’ve been told you Xyians have privacy about your bodies. I’ll leave so that you may prepare for sleep.”

  I thanked her, and took advantage of her courtesy to strip down and climb into my bedding. I also stripped off the knife harness and tucked it deep into my satchel.

  Keekai returned within moments, and set about laying out her weapons within reach and preparing her pallet for sleep. Safe under my bedding and fur, I listened as her breathing slowed. It was only then that I could really think about what had happened this day: the anger of the warriors at the attempt to honor Marcus; the look on Iften’s face when I asked for him as Guardian; the feel of Keir’s arms around me
, and the look in his eyes as I’d slid from his grasp.

  Something crackled in the brazier and I shifted under the bedding and sighed. Keir would be about his business and come after me as fast as he could.

  But oh, how I missed him. I missed his being there, his soft breathing, his warmth. Somehow Keekai’s soft snores just weren’t the same. And not just his physical presence in my bed. There were a hundred things I wanted to tell him or talk over with him. To laugh with him over Iften’s reaction. To debate my choice of Guardian.

  I yawned, thankful for the tiredness that washed over me. My bedding had been packed by Marcus, and I snuggled down, trying to convince myself that Keir’s scent was still in the blankets, and the fur that lay on top of me. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drift off to sleep. Goddess, keep watch over Keir and keep him safe, wherever he is.

  The next few days were filled with much the same routine. We’d break camp at the earliest that the horses could travel, and then journey until Keekai called a break at the nooning. Then we rode again until she called to make camp. With the riding that I’d done before with Keir, it was no trouble to stay in the saddle for so long. Iften stayed by my side, and Keekai never let me out of her sight. There was a definite lack of conversation, but I spent my time wondering at the land around us.

  It seemed to spread out before us forever, with nothing but the flat grasslands and the never ending sky. The grass was still afire, extending out in a thick carpet of reds, oranges, and golds. The sheer immensity of it took my breath away, and I found myself looking down into the grass below me just to keep my sense of balance.

  As we rode, Keekai would sometimes move close and we would talk. But we were very conscious of our listeners, and so our topics were of Xy, and how we lived. Keekai was fascinated by stone tents, and city life.

  But at night, each of us on our pallet, the brazier burning between us, she’d focus those bright blue eyes on me and ask deeper questions. “All I know of you is what is whispered on the winds,” she said, her eyes bright. “What makes a city-dweller leave her lands to venture onto the Plains?”