Warlord

by Elizabeth Vaughan

  “And I, you.” Heath stepped back and spread his arms wide. “Look at you, Lara! A woman of the Plains.”

  Amyu paused inside the tent, frowning slightly. I smiled at her, taking Heath’s arm to turn him toward her. “Amyu, this is Heath. He is of Xy.”

  Amyu’s face cleared. “I was told of his coming. You may talk over the nooning, Daughter of Xy. But the Warlord Ultie has asked to court you after the meal.” She removed her cloak. “I will bring kavage and food.”

  Heath laughed. “Well, I understood ‘kavage’ and my name. But not much else.”

  “This is Amyu of the Boar,” I said. “A Warrior of the Plains.”

  Heath nodded his head. “Greetings, Warrior.” He spoke the words slowly and carefully.

  In a blink, Amyu’s entire posture changed. Wooden-faced and stiff, she inclined her head and left the tent. I would have followed her, to ask how I offended, but Heath had all my attention. He pulled me toward the stools and table. “Lara, there isn’t much time. We must talk.”

  I was so full of questions, I didn’t know where to start. “Why are you here? What is happening in Water’s Fall? How are Anna and Othur? And Eln?”

  Heath shook his head, his own brown curls dancing. “Calm down, little bird! Let me get a word in edgewise!”

  I laughed. We’d looked so alike as children, there’d been those that thought I was his sister, and daughter of Anna and Othur. But now his brown eyes regarded me seriously as he continued in Xyian. “But we’ll speak this tongue.” I gave him a questioning look, and he shrugged. “The Warlord thinks it wise.”

  Keir. He’d spoken to Keir! I sat up straight, and opened my mouth with a dozen more questions, but Amyu entered at that point, bearing kavage and a small bowl of gurt.

  I accepted a mug, but Heath waved it away. “How can you drink that stuff, Lara?” Heath gave a mock shudder. “It’s so bitter, and one mug sets my hands trembling.”

  “I’ve grown to enjoy it.” I took a sip as Amyu left. Heath’s gaze followed her as she left the tent.

  “All was well when I left Water’s Fall,” Heath spoke softly. “There wasn’t much time for farewells or letters, Lara. A messenger came, one of those fearsome looking warrior-priests, who walked in during a Council session in the throne room.” Heath rolled his eyes. “The ladies of the Court fainted dead away at the sight.

  “The warrior-priest brandished a spear and demanded that Atira go to the Heart of the Plains and appear before the Council to speak her truths.” Heath’s face grew grim. “Simus agreed, but once the messenger left, Simus told us that something was wrong. He swore Atira would not ride alone. We’d barely enough time to gather weapons and gear before we were on our way.” He grimaced slightly. “I’ve never ridden that far, that fast before. We rode as if mountain demons were on our tails, changing horses every hour, or so it seemed. I suspect my body will feel it for days to come.” He shifted a bit on the stool. “Mother and Father would have sent letters, but there wasn’t time.” He grinned. “Mother has taken the baby to her breast, and is cooing and clucking like a hen. It was a good idea to send Meara to her, Lara. The babe has filled her arms and her heart.” Heath rolled his eyes. “But you should have heard her shriek when she saw the babe’s tattoo.”

  I grinned, remembering my reaction. “Stain. They stain the babies.”

  “Stain,” Heath corrected himself.

  “Good.” I was glad the babe from Wellspring was in Anna’s hands. “But, Heath, I understand Simus’s coming,” I replied, “but why did you come?”

  There was a touch of red on his cheeks. “I told Warren that we needed a representative of Xy with Simus. He wasn’t happy, but had no time to argue.”

  I gave him a hard look, but he avoided my eyes. “When we reached the border, Simus and Atira started that weird warbling cry. It wasn’t long before we found Keir and his men.” Heath corrected himself. “His warriors. The Warlord was furious, having just received news of the attack on you.” Heath reached out for a handful of gurt. “More horses and we were off again, riding hard. We arrived, exhausted and weary, only to have the Council summon Keir to appear before his feet even touched the ground.”

  “You were there?” I leaned forward.

  “Oh, yes. I followed everyone into the tent. That huge tent was crowded, filled with people.” Heath popped some gurt in his mouth and started to chew. “The Warlord, Simus as his Second.” Heath grimaced. “Atira and Joden. And the one called Iften. They were all there.” He popped another piece of gurt in his mouth.

  “How can you eat that stuff? I’ve tried and I still can’t stomach it,” I said, more to distract myself than because I wanted to know. Was I the only one that was not at these sessions? What purpose did that serve?

  Heath gave me a surprised look. “It’s good!” I crinkled my nose, and he chuckled. “I guess I got used to it on the journey here.”

  “So, what happened in the senel?” I asked.

  “Well, it was all in their tongue, Lara, so I understood only a word here and there. They were talking so fast, practically spitting their words at each other. I kept expecting them to come to blows more than once.” He shook his head in admiration. “But the Warlord stood there before all of them, tall, strong, and defiant. He gave as good as he got, Lara, and never once released his temper or drew his sword. But Simus, oh, Lara, now there’s a man for an argument. He’d pace back and forth, talking with his hands, smiling as if to charm the entire Council.”

  Heath grew serious for a moment. “After what seemed like hours, Keir sat, and that Iften spoke. Now there is one full of piss and wind. I’d not turn my back on him. Arrogant, he was, and strutting like a rooster.”

  Amyu came in, bearing bread, and meat with melted gurt. Her face was stony, and she didn’t speak. I knew something was wrong, but all my attention was focused on Heath. “And?” I demanded.

  Heath picked up some bread, and waited for Amyu to leave the tent. “Iften ranted, Lara. I was sure at one point that Simus would pull his sword, but he didn’t.” Heath tore at the bread. “Lara, no one has told me the details, but I think Keir was punished by the Council. Their faces were grim as they spoke, and when Keir left the tent.”

  “Punished?” I asked. “How?”

  Heath shook his head. “I do not know, Lara. They spoke so fast, and with such anger. Odd that such fierce warriors never once pulled their weapons during the council.”

  “Heath, you must take care.” I put my hand on his arm to make my point, and felt the muscles there. “These people are fantastic warriors, and if they take offense, they attack without warning.”

  “I know about tokens, and their use,” Heath tried to reassure me. He turned his head and smiled, and in that moment, I realized that my childhood friend had changed. He was thinner, harder, his muscles more defined. When he looked at me, his eyes seemed filled with pain, and a determination that I’d never seen before. “It helps that I still don’t know the language that well. I’m careful what I say and who I say it to, that’s all.”

  “Heath …” I cleared my throat. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  There was a long pause as he slowly chewed the gurt. I kept silent, and waited, knowing full well that eventually he’d speak. After a long moment, he raised his head and spoke. “You are not the only Xyian who lost their heart to one of the Plains.”

  11

  When he and I were very, very young, Heath lost an argument with a porcupine in the castle gardens. Eln, who was the castle healer at that time, took control of the situation. He soothed Heath’s tears, directed the castle staff, and dealt with Heath’s pain calmly and carefully. It made a big impression on me as I watched him heal my friend, my own tears drying on my cheeks.

  But now I looked into Heath’s face and saw pain that I knew was beyond my abilities as a healer.

  Would that the pains of the heart could be healed like the pains of the body.

  I knew, of course, who it had to be. “Atira.”
>
  “Atira.” Heath closed his eyes and sighed. “We started sparring when she was up and moving, at Eln’s suggestion. She was so lovely, and so strong, determined to heal, to learn to read and speak Xyian. She learned our language so fast, and laughed at my attempt to learn hers. I helped her learn to read, she taught me some fighting moves, and, well …” He gave me a sheepish look. “One thing led to another, and …”

  I gave him a gentle smile. “You don’t have to explain to me, Heath.”

  He chuckled. “I guess not.” He sighed deeply then, and looked off over my shoulder, lost in thought. The boy I’d known all my life was gone. In his place was a man.

  “Your parents?” I asked softly.

  “Mother and Father are less than pleased. I think they had plans for a placid Xyian wife and grandbabies.” He used his free hand to run his fingers through his hair. “But Atira holds my heart.”

  I smiled.

  Heath rolled his eyes. “Of course, Atira is not happy either. She wants nothing to do with ‘bonding’ and is displeased that I followed her. But I could do nothing else.” He gave me that wry smile again. “I am of stubborn Xyian stock, and will not take ‘no’ for an answer.”

  “Heath—”

  “Enough of my troubles, Lara.” Heath drew himself up briskly, and helped himself to food. “The Warlord wants you to know that the truths are almost finished, and that the Council of Elders only have two things to do before the final debate and decision. First, they must determine what weight to give Joden’s words. Then, they will hear your answers to their questions and accusations. The Warlord expects this to all come together within the next day or two.”

  I nodded, intent on his words.

  “You are guarded now by warrior-priests, but he has others watching over you as well.”

  “I’ve seen them.”

  Heath nodded. “They did that on purpose, Lara. The Warlord says that the warrior-priests are not to be trusted. If you are in need, cry out and help will come.”

  I relaxed a bit at that knowledge, but Keekai’s words about blind hatred came back to me as well.

  Heath flashed a smile at me. “Keir made me repeat this next part over and over. He does not trust my Xyian memory!”

  He put down his bread on the table, and deepened his voice, as if imitating Keir. “All will be well, fire of my heart.” Heath knit the fingers of both hands together. “Know that I love you, and that we will be together again soon.”

  My eyes filled with tears, and I looked up into Heath’s understanding eyes. “Heath—”

  “There is one thing more.” His eyes twinkled. “‘But please, beloved, keep that temper of yours!’”

  My mouth dropped open. “Why, that main …” I sputtered.

  Heath laughed. “Oh, I think he knows you well, little bird!”

  Amyu appeared in the entrance, clearly checking on our progress. Heath gave me a sly grin. “Eat up, Xylara, Daughter of Xy.”

  I watched as he reached for the meat dish with the red flakes in it, and didn’t say a word.

  “This courting is over!” I jerked open the tent flap. The entire structure shuddered under the force of my pull, but I just kept moving, not caring in the slightest if the entire tent collapsed on the Warlord Ultie. The arrogant, loud-mouth, overbearing, obnoxious, bad-breathed Warlord Ultie.

  It would serve him right.

  Amyu and my warrior-priest guards had made themselves comfortable nearby. Caught by surprise, they scrambled for their cloaks and gear. I didn’t stop, just stormed off down the walkway, biting my tongue to keep from speaking my thoughts out loud. That self-centered, boorish cretin. How dare he talk about Xy that way? About Keir that way? To my face? I gritted my teeth as my anger grew with every step away from that—

  “I would guess that this courting did not go well?” Amyu moved up to walk next to me.

  I glanced at her, surprised to see the first very faint hint of approval on her face. I scowled. “That man is a—” I resorted to Xyian for the rest of the sentence.

  “They are not all Keir of the Cat,” came her very soft response.

  I didn’t say anything more, ever conscious of the listening ears of my warrior-priest guards. But I did slow a bit, as we headed toward my tent. It was midafternoon, and the Heart was beating with the pulse of its people.

  Life on the Plains had a certain rhythm to it. The mornings were for chores, all the necessary things that needed to be done for life to be sustained. Afternoons seemed focused more on play and gathering, or maybe teaching was a better way to put it. Children were playing all around us, mock fighting with wooden swords and daggers. They ran and yelled, warbling cries just like their elders. I smiled to see them, but I knew there was a more serious tone here than just children playing. They were developing the skills that would keep them alive in this world.

  I tried hard to let go of my anger and frustration. I was worried about what was happening. But there was no one I could ask who would answer. So I gritted my teeth and tried to be patient. But I feared for Keir.

  Two women were playing chess between some tents, their board set on a stump between them. They hunched over, intent on the game. Four children had gathered close, watching the play. I could hear them asking questions, hanging on the older women.

  A few steps more, and I was surprised to see a group of horses standing in the walkway, seemingly unattended, watching as two warriors examined the hoof of one of the mares. They had the leg up, and were checking it over, as the horse craned its neck to look too.

  “They allow horses in the Heart?” I asked.

  “Of course,” Amyu responded. “If they wish. They are free to come and go.”

  “Don’t they soil the area?”

  “Do you?” Amyu answered, with a puzzled look on her face.

  Honestly. I mentally rolled my eyes at that. For the love of the Goddess, they were just horses.

  I spoke too soon. There, in front of my tent, stood Greatheart.

  He neighed and trotted over when he spotted me. I smiled as he butted his head against my chest. “Hello, Greatheart.”

  Which earned me a few confused looks from my escort. I ignored them as I reached up to scratch between Greatheart’s ears, and then along the scar that ran over his chest.

  “Greatheart?” Amyu asked. “What is that?”

  “It’s his name.”

  “You name horses?” one of the warrior-priests asked, in an insulting tone.

  I turned slightly, and glared at all of them. “Yes. Xyians name their horses.” I arched an eyebrow. “It’s also a Xyian custom to exchange names when you meet someone.” I glanced at each warrior-priest in turn, making my point as clear as I could.

  They returned my look with stony faces. Amyu shifted her weight, and spoke after she gave them an uneasy glance. “It is the custom of the warrior-priests not to give their names, Daughter of Xy.”

  “And not to speak, except to insult someone or their ways.” I turned away, and buried my face in Greatheart’s mane. He smelled of horse and grass and freedom. “Are you recovered from our ride, my friend?” I whispered, and watched as his ears flicked in response to the sound of my voice.

  Greatheart snorted, and buried his wet nose in my hair, drawing in deep breaths as he took in my scent.

  “The Warlord Osa wishes to pay court to you, Xylara.” Amyu’s voice came from behind me. “When you are ready.”

  I sighed for a moment, letting my fingers still. “Just how many warlords are there?”

  “Four for each of the four elements,” Amyu answered. She continued hastily when she saw my face. “But only eight wish to court you, Xylara.”

  I bowed my head, hid my face with my hair and rolled my eyes. It was all so frustrating and tiresome. Keir was my warlord, he would remain my warlord; they could parade all the stupid arrogant lummoxes they wanted before me, and he’d still be my warlord.

  Greatheart snuffed and stamped his foot, and I resumed the scratching. I thou
ght for a moment, and then spoke. “Amyu, is there any chance that this Warlord would want to go for a ride?”

  It felt so good, to be on Greatheart’s back and feel him move under me. We were galloping through the grasses, the wind in my hair. The sun was bright, even if the air was cool, and I smiled, taking deep breaths. It made my spirits rise, to be out and riding.

  The blue sky was glorious, but it seemed to me that the reds of the grasses were muted, duller than when I’d first seen the Plains. Just like the trees of Xy lost their vibrant red and yellow leaves before the snows. Winter was coming to the Plains.

  Amyu gestured off to the side, and I saw a rise ahead where we could wait for the Warlord Osa. I pulled Greatheart to a stop and turned him to face the city.

  Below us sprawled the Heart of the Plains. The first time I’d seen it, I’d been exhausted, unable to appreciate what lay before me. But now I could look my fill, and marvel at it.

  The lake lay glittering in the distance. The huge Council tent was pitched on the shore of the lake, and the city of tents formed around that in a half circle. There was so much color there, in the tents and the banners. It looked like one of the patched quilts I’d had on my bed in the castle. I narrowed my eyes, and studied it for a moment. The city seemed different too, from the first time that I’d seen it. I’d been tired, granted, but still …

  “It looks smaller, somehow,” I commented.

  “Some have left, for the snows are coming,” one of the warrior-priests responded gruffly.

  “The Heart doesn’t beat in the snows. It sleeps, to beat again when the Plains awaken,” Amyu offered, her tone just a bit more friendly. I sighed, and kept my eyes on the Heart. I was getting very tired of the disapproving looks, whether it was due to my skill as a rider, or my evil Xyian ways.

  Of course, just as we’d mounted, it occurred to me that going off with only my warrior-priest guard wasn’t the wisest course of action. But I’d wanted air and exercise, and I’d asked impulsively, without really thinking.

  I’d underestimated Keir’s cleverness. There was a constant flow of warriors in and out of the Heart; it was almost as busy as Water’s Fall. I’d spotted Prest and Rafe in the first moments of our ride and had relaxed. If Amyu or the others had noticed our shadows, they’d not commented on it. So I was free to admire the sights and await the coming of the Warlord Osa.