Warlord

by Elizabeth Vaughan

  He’d better not be like the last one. Goddess, that man had been just plain rude from the moment I’d stepped into his tent. Proclaiming himself to be superior to Keir in every way, and offering to bed me to display his skills. I scowled at the memory. If this new Warlord was the same arrogant ass, I’d leave him here without a word.

  The pounding of hooves drew my attention to a group of warriors headed our way. I tensed, thinking it was an attack, but Amyu spoke. “Osa.”

  At the head of the group was a woman warrior, with hair like flame. She rode a pure white stallion, with a lovely long mane and tail. As they drew closer, I could see that she was dressed in rich brown leathers from the tip of her toes to the top of her … breasts. I was taken aback a bit, but I knew that the leathers were not intended as armor, since her more than ample breasts were thrust up and apart in an astounding display.

  Her skin was fair, and she had a whip tied to her belt, opposite her sword. A stunning woman. She reined up close by, and I could see that her eyes were brown, and flecked with gold. She was the loveliest woman I had ever seen.

  “Xylara, Daughter of Xy.” She inclined her head in a regal manner. “I thank you for this opportunity.”

  All the breath left my body. Goddess above, she was the Warlord Osa.

  Just as well that she turned then to wave off our escorts, and reached to tie bells in the mane of that lovely white horse. It gave me a chance to snap my mouth shut and recover my wits. Even my warrior-priest guards obeyed without question, melting away in the heat of her confident authority. She took no note, as if she expected to be obeyed. Her attitude reminded me so very much of Keir. That alone was enough to tell me that her power was equal to Keir’s. In every way.

  She was a picture of perfection as she turned and smiled at me. “I am the Warlord Osa of the Fox.”

  “Women can be warlords?” I blurted out. “I know they can be warriors, but—”

  One perfect brow rose, but Osa was polite in her answer. “Of course, Xylara.” She tilted her head, and studied me with warm brown eyes. “I’d heard that your ways are far different from ours, but surely not that different.”

  I opened my mouth, but words failed me. How could I explain my culture to this woman? I settled for the simplest explanation. “Woman warriors are rare in my land. Woman warleaders are rarer still.”

  She nodded then, knotting her reins in front of her, and starting to pull off her brown gloves. I was suddenly very conscious of my tangled hair, and my clothes. A little brown bird next to a phoenix.

  I had to know. “Have you ever slept with Keir?” I blurted out, my face flushed in embarrassment even as the words left my lips.

  Honestly surprised, Osa gave me an elegant shrug. “No, Xylara. Once I met my obligations to the Tribe, my bedmates have all been women. Men are not to my taste.” She gave me a sly glance. “Which is why I asked to court you. I’m told that you had no experience before Keir. You might find the ways of loving between women to be more to your liking.”

  Goddess above.

  Just as well that I was seated on a horse. My entire body went cold, then flushed hot as the world tilted around me. And I wasn’t sure if it was fear, embarrassment … or curiosity.

  Goddess above.

  Osa’s gentle chuckle brought me back, a gentle sound for so fierce-looking a woman. “I’ve shocked you. Maybe your ways are so very different from ours, yes?”

  I swallowed hard. “I—I’d not give offense.”

  “I take none. And it didn’t occur to me to ask for your token, so I hope I have given none.” Osa shook her head, and her red curls danced in the sun. “What does it matter who sleeps with whom, as long as it is by agreement?”

  A thought occurred. “Osa, is there rape here?”

  “Rape?” I’d used the Xyian word without thinking. I explained and she grimaced in understanding. “Rare, Xylara. There are too many blades among us, and all are skilled in their use.”

  “Even the theas?”

  “The theas are some of the deadliest of us all, Xylara. They guard and guide the young.” She gave me a smile. “I suppose Ultie offered to show you his body and skills?”

  I rolled my eyes. “He dropped his trous to show me his ‘weapon’!”

  Osa laughed, a warm, rich sound, then crinkled her nose. The gold flecks in her eyes seemed to dance. “And you wonder that I would choose women over men? Or you over Ultie?”

  I choked on my own laughter, and coughed to clear my throat. “I am promised to Keir.”

  “So?” Osa gave an elegant shrug. “What of that?”

  “My people do not have sex outside of a bond,” I tried to explain.

  Osa moved her horse closer, and she leaned in toward me. “What of that, lovely lady? You are not yet bonded. You are free to taste the pleasures of many before you commit to one.” I watched mesmerized as she leaned in, her breasts moving within the leather, close enough to touch. Close enough to … kiss.

  I jerked my head back in surprise. Greatheart shifted under me, responding to my movements, putting a bit of distance between us. Her smile gone, Osa pulled back and watched me intently, like a phoenix might study its prey.

  I licked my lips. “Osa, I—” I had to breathe. “I can’t.”

  She shrugged again, and somehow I knew that her elegance was as natural as breathing to her. She probably killed with the same exquisite movement.

  “I was told that you had honor, Lara.” Osa’s smile was back. “And that your ways are strange. I take no offense.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, still feeling a bit unsettled.

  “So. Since I cannot court you, perhaps you would come to my tent, and we can share a meal. I wish to know more of your healing skills. I can promise to be better company than Ultie.”

  I made a face. “That wouldn’t be a challenge, Warlord.”

  She laughed, and gestured for our escorts to follow us.

  After Osa, I went to the tents of the next five warlords with my escort, and made my position to each one very clear. Keir of the Cat was my chosen Warlord, and my decision was final.

  I was gracious, and kind, and they were polite in their acceptance of my refusal.

  Exhausted, I’d returned to my tent. The last of the warlords would have to wait for the next day. All I wanted was my bed.

  Only to find that the Tribe of the Snake was holding a dance near my tent, with much joy and laughter. I was too tired to watch, so I went inside, complained about the lack of a real bath to Amyu, and crawled between the blankets with a grateful sigh.

  Oddly enough, the drums were more soothing than anything else. I fell asleep with no trouble.

  They were still beating when I awoke with a start. There was a cloaked figure crouched by my bed.

  I gasped, startled half out of my wits. The figure moved, reaching out a hand. “Healer, will you come?”

  It took me an instant to understand. “Amyu?”

  She moved closer, pressing her fingers to my lips. “Yes. There is a need. Will you come?”

  I threw off the bedding and quickly dressed in the clothes she pressed into my hands. I ran my fingers through my hair, thrust my feet into my shoes, and grabbed my satchel. Amyu threw a cloak over my shoulders, and took my hand.

  It was dark in the depths of the tent. I could hear the drums of the dance, but their beat was slower, and more sensual. I yawned once, cracking my jaw as I did so, and tried to shake the sleep from my eyes.

  Quietly, Amyu headed for the back area, where she worked and slept. I couldn’t make out the details in the dim light, but she walked up to that tent wall, and knelt, pulling it up just enough so that we could squeeze under. I paused, suddenly uncertain.

  Amyu sensed my hesitation. “Please. We need a healer.”

  I nodded and knelt, pushing my satchel before me, and squirmed outside. Amyu followed, and we got to our feet together. “Your guard watches the dance.”

  Mentally, I rolled my eyes. I could just imagine the kind
s of ‘dances’ they were watching.

  Amyu’s voice was the barest of whispers as she took my arm. “Come.”

  We hadn’t gotten five steps when a large man loomed up before us. “What’s this?” he asked.

  “Prest.” I spoke as I sagged in relief. He took a step closer, and I could make out Epor’s warclub in its harness over his shoulder.

  Another voice came from the shadows behind us. “Warprize. This is not safe.” Amyu spun, hand on her dagger, but I wasn’t surprised to hear Rafe’s voice.

  “Someone needs my skills,” I responded.

  Amyu recovered. “You are Keir’s men.” I could tell she was surprised that they’d caught us.

  “We guard the Warprize,” Prest said.

  “And we do not watch dances,” Rafe responded firmly. “Now why do you lure the Warprize away?”

  “She is needed,” Amyu whispered urgently. “For a healing.”

  Rafe gave her the once over. “Can she be trusted?” He spoke in Xyian.

  “I don’t know,” I answered in the same language. “But I won’t let that stop me from healing someone.”

  Rafe looked at Prest.

  Prest shrugged.

  Rafe rolled his eyes, and let out a soft, exaggerated sigh. “You are of no help.” He turned back to Amyu. “Show us the way.”

  She gave a quick nod, and moved silently away in the darkness.

  We followed, quietly, as she took us on a path between the tents, careful to disturb no one. While the Heart never stops beating, it does sleep, and there were very few people about, and most were focused on their own tasks.

  As we walked, I moved close to Rafe. “How is Keir?” I asked, keeping my voice as soft as I could.

  Rafe smiled, his eyes twinkling under his hood. “Frustrated. Furious. But determined, Warprize. He hasn’t killed anyone.”

  “Yet,” Prest added.

  I sighed. “He’s not the only one.”

  Rafe gave me a sympathetic look. “I’ll tell him, Warprize. Provided he doesn’t kill me for letting you do this.”

  “Look.” Prest pointed.

  Ahead of us lay a series of tents, alive with torches and movement. Amyu guided us to the largest one and threw open the flap. The tent was filled with light, heat, and people, both men and women. And the all too familiar smell of blood, sweat, and fear.

  “Call out if you need us,” Rafe’s voice came from behind me, and I absently nodded in response. All of my attention was on the figure on a pallet in the middle of the tent.

  It was a woman, a very naked, very pregnant woman, sprawled on the bedding. Her skin gleamed with sweat, and she was clearly exhausted. Her eyes were glazed, unseeing. Surrounded by the others, she was gasping, panting through her pains. Her distended belly shone in the light, looking tight enough to burst.

  “How long?” I asked. It had to be hours, by the look of things.

  All heads turned as I spoke, and Amyu pushed in from behind me.

  “Why have you brought her here?” A woman who looked as old as Keekai stood before me, as if to bar my way. She was naked from the waist up, and sweating as well.

  “She is a healer.” Amyu stood her ground, even as her voice trembled. “If there is any chance to save Eace—”

  “That is not your place, child,” the woman snapped. For a moment I thought I’d be thrown out of the tent, but her features softened. “What is done is done.” She turned away, then, towards the woman on the pallet. I followed, to look between the woman’s legs. She was open, and I could see a tiny foot, trying to emerge.

  “I am Reness, Eldest Thea.” The one who’d barred my path was speaking. “This is Eace’s first. I’ve tried to turn the babe, but it will not shift.” She reached out, and a man handed her a knife, its blade bright in the light. The flames from the braziers flickered on its surface, and in her eyes as she looked at me. “I have heard of your skills, you who would be a warprize.”

  She held up the knife, and looked at me, her face a mask of pain. “I’ve cut babes out before, but the woman always dies.” She took a deep breath. “I would ask that you use your skills to bring her back from the dead, once the baby is born.” She turned away, and brought the knife to bear on the woman’s stomach.

  12

  One quick step, and I had my hand on the clenched fist that held the dagger, preventing it from touching the skin. I looked at Reness’s stark face, and gave her a serious grave look, even as my heart sang with happiness. “I’ve cut out babes before, and the women have lived.”

  Hope flared in eyes where there’d been none. Some of the faces about us mirror’d hers. Reness stilled her hand. “You have?”

  “I have.” I looked around at hopeful faces, including Amyu’s. “It is difficult and dangerous. But let me try.”

  There was silence for a moment, as the theas around us considered each other.

  “She is not of the Plains.” One spoke softly.

  “Do not trust in this woman, Eldest Thea,” another urged. “The winds may rise up in anger.”

  The woman moaned and writhed in pain. I didn’t look away from Reness, who stared at me.

  Then Reness nodded her head and sheathed her dagger. “Do it.”

  “Get a table in here, and get her on it,” I ordered. “I need water, cloths for the blood, and the sharpest, smallest blade you can find me. Quickly. This has gone on long enough.”

  There was a flurry about us as they acted as quickly as I could ask. I concentrated on digging out one of my precious needles from my satchel, and some of the dried gut that I always kept there, trying to keep my joy off my face. My heart swelled, filled with a sense of comfort, of pure satisfaction and delight. Here was a task I could do, and do well, in a situation I’d been in many times before. A wonderful sense of being needed filled me, a sense of being wanted.

  Of being home.

  I schooled my face, and braided my hair up to get it out of the way as I watched the preparations.

  Amyu was kneeling by my patient’s head, smoothing back her damp hair, and murmuring something in her ear. She stayed with her even as they lifted Eace onto the table. I caught the words ‘warprize’ and ‘help’. Eace’s eyes seemed more rational now, her head straining up so that she could see me over her belly.

  A small knife, probably a skinning blade, was pressed into my hand. I recognized the black flint that was used in the tips of their throwing lances. Ironic that such an instrument of death could be used to save a life. Everyone else was stripping off their tunics, men and women, due to the heat. One of the men offered me a bowl and a pitcher of water, and I held out my hands for the ritual blessing, praying as the water poured over my hands and the knife. Goddess, please guide my hands.

  I took my place, and watched as another contraction wracked through my patient. “Scream, Eace,” I offered. “It will help with the pain.”

  “I will not,” Eace panted, laying flat, her face white as snow, sweat pouring off her. “I am a warrior of the Plains. I will not move, I will not flinch. I will chant battle cries.”

  I exchanged glances with some of the older women in the room, about to roll my eyes at that comment. But their faces were grim, and I realized that they expected the pain. They thought that was normal. I sighed, and shook my head. “I will not take a chance. Hold her down.”

  Many hands reached, and Eace started to chant. “Birth of air, death of—”

  Warrior that she was, the poor thing didn’t scream. She jerked under their hands at the touch of my blade, and then conveniently fainted away. I worked swiftly to take advantage of that, making my first cut carefully. Two men stood off to the side, and used cloths to keep the site as clean as possible.

  Eln had developed a new technique with these births, pushing the muscles aside instead of slicing them, cutting only where absolutely necessary. I strained, working my hands in, trying to keep my cuts as small as possible.

  Once through the womb, I handed the knife out, and reached in to sort out
the babe, feeling for the cord, to make sure it wasn’t wrapped around—

  I laughed right out loud as my fingers told me what I needed to know.

  The theas looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. I just shook my head, and eased forth the babe, who popped out screaming. One of the men stood close, with a clean cloth held open for the child. I placed the crying boy in the blanket, the cord still attached.

  “Heyla!” The man laughed and grinned at me. “Hear a warrior’s cries!”

  The others broke out into smiles, but I just plunged my hands back inside. “Then here’s double the joy!”

  I carefully pulled forth another baby, a girl, red-faced and furious, screaming at this new world. She was even louder than her brother, and she had every right to be, since it was her foot that had blocked the canal.

  “Twins!” The theas around us crowed in joy, crooning to the babes.

  Reness moved closer, and I looked to her. “Can you tie off the cords, Reness? I must finish here.”

  Reness drew her dagger again, her face as bright as the blade. “I am honored, Warprize.”

  I turned my attention to Eace, and worked to make sure that I cleaned her out well, before I started to stitch her closed. I tried to be careful, with small stitches, but I was fighting time and her bleeding. Amyu remained by Eace’s head, stroking her forehead, and stared at me with wide eyes.

  The babes were off behind me, being cleaned and checked over. But theas remained with me, helping to keep the site clear of blood, dealing with the mess. No wonder she had such a problem, the babes were so large, and Eace a small thing. I concentrated on my work, mindful that my patient was a warrior, and would want to leap to her feet at the first moment of awareness.

  Which gave me an idea. Once I had the birthsack closed off, I gestured to my satchel. “I’ve bloodmoss in there, wrapped in blue cloth. Could someone—”