Warlord

by Elizabeth Vaughan

  Essa stepped forward. “Daughter of Xy. You speak the truth when you say that you did not talk to Keir of the Cat?”

  “I did not. We …” I kept my eyes on him, resisting the urge to look down. “We spoke only with our bodies, Eldest Singer.”

  “What does she know of truth?” Antas growled. “She lies at any time, as she sees fit.”

  “I do not!” I replied hotly, stepping forward to face the Eldest Warrior.

  “You lied to Atira of the Bear.” Antas folded his massive arms over his chest, and sneered at me.

  “How so?” I demanded.

  “Atira of the—” Antas bellowed, but Essa cut him off.

  “Before you bawl out for a truth, we will call this senel to order.” Essa turned to face the Elders, who began to settle down. He turned back, and gestured to someone behind me. Amyu appeared, with a folding stool, that she set up for me between the fire pits.

  I adjusted my satchel and sat. Amyu remained at my shoulder, standing just behind me.

  Essa stood before all, watching as everyone settled down. As far as I could see, the tiers were full, almost crowded. Those that stood on the edges were clearly warriors of stature. Keir had taken his position as close to me as he could, on the other side of the fire pit. Liam and Simus stood with him, with other familiar faces just behind. I drew a deep breath, tried to relax my shoulders, and turned back to face the Elders.

  “I call this senel to order,” Essa announced in a strong voice. Everyone quieted magically. Essa turned to me. “Daughter of Xy, welcome to our tent. May we offer you kavage?”

  “No, thank you,” I answered.

  “Daughter of Xy, we have now heard the truths of those that we have called before us, all but Joden of the Hawk. We delayed his truths, because Iften of the Boar and Eldest Warrior Antas, also of the Boar, have asked that his words be given the weight of a Singer, although Joden cannot yet claim that status.”

  So Antas was a pig, too. I wasn’t surprised.

  Essa folded his arms over his chest. “We have kept you out of these meetings, for you are not of the Plains. But now, a decision must be made, and we have decided that you should be heard on this matter.”

  “First, she must prove that she knows what truth is!” Antas jumped to his feet. “I say that she has lied to a warrior of the Plains.”

  “I deny that,” I responded calmly, as my heart beat in my chest.

  “Atira of the Bear,” Antas called out. Atira stepped forward to stand before them, moving well. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Antas as if she wished to slaughter him with the sharpest weapon she could find.

  “Tell us again, how the Xyian lied to you,” Antas demanded.

  “You are the only one that calls it a ‘lie’, Eldest Warrior.” Atira’s words were polite, but her voice dripped with contempt. “I say that the Warprize saved my leg and my life.”

  “Tell it!” Antas thundered.

  Atira scowled, then turned to face me. She gave me a full nod. “Warprize.”

  “Atira.” I greeted her with a smile. “How does your leg?”

  Essa cleared his throat.

  Atira winked at me, but turned back to face him. I was pleased to see her standing so tall and proud, her blonde hair gleaming in the lights of the fire. “As I spoke my truth before, so now I speak the truth again. I was practicing mounting a running horse from a standing position when I fell and broke my leg …” Atira retold the story of her fall, and how I insisted that she let me heal her leg. I was amazed at the detail that she could recall, right down to the words that I’d spoken.

  “ … she reached over and handed me a piece of willow bark to put between my teeth. ‘All right, Atira. Ten deep breaths, then we begin.’” Atira shook her head. “I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Then another. Then, as I drew the third breath, she grabbed my ankle and my world exploded into pain.”

  “Thus I am proven,” Antas said with satisfaction. “She lied.”

  A murmur washed through the crowd.

  14

  There was an outburst from Keir’s direction, but I just gaped at Antas, caught off guard. “You can’t possibly be that stupid.”

  It was Antas’s turn to gawk at me. I pressed the point, speaking loudly enough to be heard by all. “That is not a lie. That is a skill. A trick of the trade. If you wait until the tenth breath, the patient tenses up, and the muscles fight against the healer.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Is it a lie to hide in wait for an animal while hunting?”

  Antas scowled. “A warrior is no animal, to be—”

  “Enough.” Wild Winds stood. “The snows come. Do not waste time on this. The Xyian knows what truth is.”

  “Agreed?” Essa turned to the Elders. They were all seated, and no one moved. But Essa turned back, as if the matter was resolved. He looked at Antas. Antas glared, but sat back down. Essa then turned his attention to me. “Then, we will proceed. Daughter of Xy, Joden of the Hawk has been in training to become a Singer of the Plains. You know this?”

  “I do.”

  “All listen well to the words and truths of a Singer of the Plains. They hold our ways and our knowledge. You understand?”

  “Yes, Eldest Singer.”

  “Now, there are those who would have Joden of the Hawk named Singer now, without the normal contests, ceremonies, and celebrations.”

  Contests? I glanced over at Joden but he was studying the floor. Essa continued. “This has been done in the past, but under dire circumstances.” He glanced over at Joden. “There are those that oppose this, because Joden of the Hawk has not held to our ways.”

  “Because of Simus?” I looked over to where Simus stood next to Keir, tall, proud and healthy. “But if Joden hadn’t stayed his hand—”

  Essa raised an eyebrow at my interruption, but he nodded in agreement. “Yes. Because of his failure to grant Simus of the Hawk mercy.”

  “For which I am deeply grateful,” Simus chimed in, a large smile on his face. There was a stir of amusement amidst the Elders.

  “No doubt,” Essa spoke dryly, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “If I may continue?”

  Simus grinned then, and inclined his head, as if giving permission.

  Essa gave him a telling look, then turned back to me. “But only the Singers can allow this, and the Singers will not. I have consulted my brethren and we will not rush to allow Joden of the Hawk within our ranks. That is the end of that, for that is not something within the authority of the Council of Elders.”

  “I don’t understand, Eldest Singer.” I shifted a bit on my stool. “If you will not let him become a Singer, what is to be discussed?”

  “The weight that his truth will be given.” Essa answered plainly. “Joden of the Hawk is well respected. He has witnessed many of these events. Antas argues that his words should be given the weight of a Singer’s, even if he does not yet have that status. The Council is free to determine the value and weight of his truth.” Essa sighed, glancing back at the tiers of Elders behind him. “There has been much talk about this.” He faced forward and grimaced slightly. “Too much talk.”

  There was another stir of amusement at his words, and I took a chance and glanced over at Keir. His face told me nothing, gave me no hint as to what was going on. I licked my lips, and turned back to look at Essa as he spoke. “So, Daughter of Xy, what say you? How shall we treat the truths of Joden of the Hawk?”

  I looked down at my hands, clasped tight in my lap, and considered his question. The tent fell silent around me, with only the crackle of the fire to be heard. “May I have some kavage now?”

  “Of course.” Essa’s voice was full of amusement. “And a moment to collect your thoughts, if you wish. But kavage would be welcome for all, I think.”

  I kept my eyes down, thinking. I could hear the sounds of people moving, and the clatter as mugs were filled. Amyu held a mug out to me in silence. I took it with whispered thanks, but she said nothing. It was hot and
black, just like I liked it.

  The room settled back down. I placed my mug, on the floor and stood before I spoke, lifting my eyes to the tiers, trying to look confident. “Joden of the Hawk was the first to call me ‘warprize’ after Keir of the Cat claimed me in Xy. He was the first to help me understand what ‘warprize’ truly meant.” I glanced over at Joden’s solemn face, but his dark eyes gave nothing away. “He was also the first to come to me and explain his opposition to Keir, and to my ways.”

  I focused back on Essa. “I have seen what happens to a land when its leader surrounds himself with men who speak only the truth he wants to hear.”

  I looked pointedly at Iften, standing opposite Keir on the other side of the fire pits. “I’ve seen what problems it creates when opposition is not expressed openly or honorably.”

  Iften bridled, glaring at me and putting his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  I turned back to face the Elders. “I value Joden as an honorable friend and warrior. His truths deserve to be given the highest value.”

  “Even if his truth is spoken against you?” Wild Winds prodded.

  “Even so.”

  That created quite a stir. I couldn’t resist looking at Joden. He was considering me gravely. I inclined my head to him, and after a brief hesitation, he did the same to me.

  “Keir of the Cat has said much the same,” Essa commented, drawing my attention back to him. “Thank you, Daughter of Xy.”

  I sat down.

  “So.” Essa turned, speaking to the tiers of Elders. “Enough has been said. Do we give the truths of Joden of the Hawk the weight of a Singer’s?”

  A few of the Elders stood up, but the majority remained seated on their stools. Was that how they indicated their position?

  “Very well.” Essa stretched a bit, flexing his back. “This decision made, it grows late. We have been at this since the dawn. Let us meet again in the morning, to hear the truths of Joden of the Hawk.”

  “No,” Antas demanded, as he jumped to his feet. “Let us do this here and now. The snows come, Essa.”

  “I know that well, Antas,” Essa snapped. He glared for a moment, then turned to Joden. “Joden of the Hawk. What say you?”

  Joden shook his head. “Eldest Singer, I’d ask for the night to think on my words. The burden of this is heavy and I’d wish to—”

  “NO.” A shout came from Iften who stepped forward, gesturing toward Keir. “Do not allow this! Joden will be influenced by Keir, by Simus—”

  “By what right do you challenge, Iften of the Boar?” Essa pulled a dagger, and advanced on Iften. “You, who hold no status within this Council?”

  Iften’s face was a strange mixture of rage and chagrin. He glanced at Antas, as if for support, but even Antas was offended. As Essa approached, Iften went to one knee, and bowed his head. “I beg forgiveness, Eldest Singer.”

  Essa placed the tip of his blade on Iften’s neck. Iften flinched, but made no other move. Satisfied, Essa walked back toward his stool, sheathing his dagger.

  “The warrior has a point,” Antas spoke as Essa returned to his place. “Joden should speak now.”

  “I agree,” Wild Winds said.

  Essa turned. “What say the Elders? Should Joden speak now?”

  Everyone remained seated.

  “Very well.” Essa returned to his stool. “Joden of the Hawk, you are summoned to speak your truths. Daughter of Xy, please leave the Council tent.”

  The last caught me off guard. I opened my mouth to protest, even as Joden spoke, “Elders and Eldest, I would ask that Xylara be permitted to stay. It is right that she hear my truth.”

  Essa shrugged, and nodded. I settled back down on my stool. Joden stepped forward and placed himself at the corner of the fire pit, in front of the Eldest, but not so far as to block my view.

  Suddenly I was back in the throne room of the Castle of Water’s Fall, seated next to Keir, and watching Joden emerge from the crowd to sing at the mourning ceremony. There’d been a light in his eyes then, a kind of peace deep within. Now he stood, a man who would be haunted forever by the events at Wellspring, where he’d sung for all the dead.

  So many dead.

  “Speak, Joden of the Hawk,” Essa urged.

  “Not before I’ve had my say,” came a voice from behind me.

  I looked over my shoulder to see Reness march into the tent. She’d caused a stir, and knew it. She strode between the fire pits to stand at my side.

  “Eldest Thea.” Essa was displeased. “Welcome to these discussions. Your absence was noted.”

  “I’ve better things to do than sit, swill kavage, and cluck like gurtles,” Reness replied. “Days you’ve been at this, and still no decision? Pah.” She huffed out a breath. “I’ll speak my truth and be gone.”

  “About Joden of the Hawk?” Wild Winds asked.

  Reness snorted. “No. As to Xylara, Daughter of Xy, and Warprize.”

  Antas sprang up. “That is not yet—”

  “Fool,” Reness spat.

  Antas closed his mouth in a hurry.

  “You wish to stop change from coming to the Plains,” Reness said. “Might as well tell the winds to stop blowing.” She shook back her hair. “I’ve spent the last few days listening and learning. Of bloodmoss and fever’s foe. Of joint cream, and a game played on a board. Of the tales told by warriors newly returned, of the healing power of the Xyian woman before you.”

  Reness set her hand on my shoulder. “We need her ways, her knowledge and her skills. We’d be stupid to ignore the benefits that she would bring to the People of the Plains. The theas have discussed this, and I speak for all when we say that she is truly a Warprize.”

  Her statement was greeted with silence.

  She nodded, well satisfied. “I’ve work to be done. Summon me, if you need to see me sit on my stool in her favor.”

  She turned then, but paused long enough to drop a whisper. “Eace is well and healing.” With that, she was gone, long strides carrying her out of the tent and away.

  A murmur of voices rose as she left the tent, but Essa seemed to take it all in stride. He gave everyone a moment to settle, and then once again turned to Joden. “Speak your truths, Joden of the Hawk.”

  He was still standing by the fire pit, the oddest expression on his face, as if he’d seen something long hidden. He jumped slightly, startled when Essa spoke his name, and it took him a moment to acknowledge the summons.

  “Elders and Eldest, I thank you for the honor of speaking my truths before you.” Joden took a long breath, and seemed to steady himself. His voice was deep and loud enough to be heard by all. “When I left the Plains this spring with Keir of the Cat, my feet were light and eager. Keir’s intention to change our world and our ways was known, and I welcomed the challenges it would bring. Welcomed, too, the chance to witness and craft songs of what would happen.”

  His voice filled with pain. “It is well we do not know what the winds will bring. Had I known …”

  His voice trailed off, but the tent remained silent. Joden lifted his head to look at the Elders. “I will not speak of what has already been told. Of the deaths due to affliction. Of the loss of Epor of the Badger and Isdra of the Fox. Of the pyres that burned day and night. Of my laments as I sang the dead to the snows.”

  I bowed my head, and squeezed my eyes closed against the tears that came.

  “Did the dead raise a blade?” Joden’s voice was a growl, full of anger. “Did they die in battle, and go to the snows as warriors? No. They lay in their beds and shivered, no awareness in their eyes, crying out for friends and loved ones, their wits scattered to the winds.” Joden stopped himself, and drew another deep breath. “No, I will not speak of it. Someday, I may sing it. But not today.”

  Joden rubbed his face with both hands, to gather himself together. The tent remained silent. I wiped my eyes, and then clasped my hands tight in my lap.

  After what seemed like forever, Joden continued. “I have prepared to becom
e a Singer. And I have learned that a true Singer sings the truth. A Singer must not be swayed by friendship or loyalties or the opinions of others. A Singer must sing the truth as he sees it, with his own eyes.” Joden drew a shuddering breath. “But as a Singer must stand against pressures from others, he must also stand from the pressure within. He must not be swayed by his own fears or sorrows.”

  Essa gave Joden a half-smile and spoke. “That’s a truth that cuts both ways. And not the easiest to understand. Or recognize.”

  “It is.” Joden’s lips pressed to a thin line as he pointed to Keir. “Keir dares much, and it is said that the skies favor the bold. But I fear that he goes too far too fast. The ‘plague’ has shown me that to combine the Plains and the Xyians is madness.

  “Yet,” Joden looked at me now, his gaze steady. “How can I speak against the woman who saved so many, Simus included? Who gave herself over to what she thought would be degradation and abuse, to save her people?” He turned back to face the Elders. “My truth is this. I was torn by my own pain. Never again do I want to tend to so many dead.”

  “So how say you now, Joden of the Hawk?” Wild Winds pressed, his voice soft contrast to Joden’s. “What is your truth?”

  Joden lifted his head, to look at Iften, and then at Antas. Both men were tense, as if waiting for … something.

  But Joden looked away from them and focused on Wild Winds. “I would say this truth. Xylara, daughter of Xy, is a true Warprize of the Plains.”

  I straightened in shock. I wasn’t the only one. All around the tent, heads jerked in surprise. Even Keir looked stunned, and Simus … Simus just smiled.

  Antas was on his feet, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “This is your truth, Joden of the Hawk?”

  Joden faced him calmly. “We have forgotten our ways, in our reaction to the change she represents. Acceptance of Xyian ways has nothing to do with her confirmation as Warprize.” He turned to Essa, and lifted a finger. “A Warprize must be discovered during the course of a battle, or on or near a battlefield. A Warprize must render aid to the Warlord or his men.”