Warlord

by Elizabeth Vaughan

  “Pah.” Essa stood, unsteady on his feet, his face white. Either he was angered beyond belief, or in pain, or both. I narrowed my eyes, and studied him and Wild Winds carefully. “You’d speak now,” Essa continued, “when you and the others failed to force your truths upon us.”

  “She is a threat to us all, a danger to our people,” Iftan spat. “We had to try to make you—”

  “Make us? Force us?” Wild Winds spoke from his stool. “Your truth had been heard and considered. All arguments had been made. But Antas would have used his blade rather than let this Council make its decison.”

  “I do not know how Antas convinced so many to betray this Council and the Plains,” Essa spoke. “But all who lifted a blade in the Council senel died for it, or have fled the Heart.”

  “Except the coward that dropped his sword,” Simus added.

  All three of the Eldest glared at him. Wild Winds spoke first. “You have no rank to—”

  Simus laughed. “You have no Eldest Warrior to sit on the tier. A warrior’s voice should be heard, yes?” He spread his arms wide. “My truth is yours, Eldest of the Elders.”

  Keir snorted softly, but didn’t say anything. I shifted so that I could see his face, thinking that he was looking at the tiers. But Keir was focused on Iften, and Iften alone.

  Who chose that moment to cry out, “You will see.” He came up on his knees, wincing as the bonds pulled at his arm. “She will bring disaster and death with her ways. Keir is a fool, to bring a city-dweller among us. Even her own people wished to be rid of her. Punish me if you will, but the truth will not be changed.”

  Essa took a step to glare at Iften. “I will explain this to you, Iften of the Boar, for it seems you have forgotten a truth of our People. You are not being punished for opposing the confirmation of the Warprize.”

  “No.” Wild Winds stood, using his staff to pull himself up. The three skulls clattered against each other. “No, Iften of the Boar. Your crime was not to oppose Keir of the Cat and Xylara. It was to attempt to silence this Council’s voices and impose your will.”

  Reness stood. “We are of the Plains and of the Tribes, our lives intertwined and dependent on each other. Yet you would use violence to force, not your voice or your wisdom to persuade. That is your offense, Iften of the Tribe of the Boar, Warrior of the Plains. And for it, I name you Outcast.”

  Essa nodded, folding his arms over his chest. “I, too, name you Outcast.”

  Wild Winds was grim. “I, too, name you Outcast.”

  Iften had paled, the bruises about his face in stark contrast to his skin. “No, I—” He swallowed hard. “You warrior-priests have much to lose if the Xyian’s ways are brought to the Plains.”

  “Do we?” Wild Winds asked.

  Essa turned to face the Elders on the tiers about him. “What say the Council? Shall Iften of the Boar, Warrior of the Plains, be cast out of his Tribe and out of the People?”

  Reness and Wild Winds sat down. All of the Elders remained seated. Every single one.

  Essa spoke again. “For this ceremony, an Eldest of the Warriors is required. Antas will answer to this Council for his actions. There is no time to select a new Eldest. I would ask that Nires of the Boar, Warrior of the Plains, Elder of the Tribe of the Boar, stand as Eldest for this senel. Do any oppose this?”

  All of the Elders stood.

  A figure moved on the lowest tier, walking down to stand next to Reness. “I thank you for the honor, Eldest Singer.”

  Essa inclined his head, then turned to face Iften. “Iften of the Boar, Warrior of the Plains. The Council of the Elders names you Outcast.” He drew a deep breath. “May the very air deny you breath.”

  Iften’s eyes were wild as he glanced at the condemning faces before him.

  Wild Winds spoke. “Iften of the Boar. The Council of the Elders names you Outcast. May the very earth collapse beneath your feet”

  Reness spoke. “Iften. The Council of the Elders names you Outcast. May the very fire scorch your skin.”

  Nires drew himself up. “The Council names you Outcast, without Tribe, without a name, no longer of the Plains. May the very water of the land refuse to quench your thirst.”

  Essa gestured to the guards. “Take this one out into the Plains, a half-day’s ride, and leave him. Without weapons, without people, without a name. The elements will have him, to do with as they please.”

  His captors dragged Iften up, and dragged him off. He made no sound, said nothing, but stared at Keir and me as he was taken away. I shivered, and clung to Keir. Somehow, Iften’s silence was that much more frightening. I’d never know the truth of Gils’s death. But in my heart I was sure that Iften had poisoned him.

  Essa watched until Iften was removed. He heaved a deep breath. “That done, we must turn to the issue at hand. This Council must decide whether to confirm Xylara, Daughter of Xy, as Warprize.”

  “Can there be a doubt?” Simus asked.

  Wild Winds scowled. “It is not your place to say, Warrior. And sheath those weapons. The violence is over.”

  Simus stiffened, then looked back over his shoulder at Keir. There was a long pause, long enough to make Wild Winds open his mouth as if to speak.

  Something wasn’t right. I looked into Keir’s face. He hadn’t relaxed now that Iften was gone, the arms around me were taut and his eyes were wary.

  Keir gave a nod, and Simus turned back, sheathing his sword. But then Simus crossed his arms over his chest in a manner that let everyone know that he would not be moved.

  Essa spoke then, his face strained and white. “The truth of Joden of the Hawk was interrupted by events. Joden of the Hawk, do you have any more to say?”

  Joden stepped up. “I would add nothing. Whether the change Lara brings is for good or for ill, I believe her to be a true Warprize.”

  “Never before has the kind of change been an issue in the confirmation,” Essa agreed.

  “The dead rode with her,” Joden continued. “And the herds protected her.”

  Reness’s eyes widened. She turned to Wild Winds. “The dead aided her, and still you doubt?”

  Wild Winds shook his head. “I do not know what to make of this.” He swayed slightly.

  “Sit down before you fall down,” Reness snapped. “Or is your pride so fragile?”

  Essa and Wild Winds both glared at her, but they each sought their stools. I lifted my head to whisper to Keir. “They’re hurt.”

  His eyes flickered over them, and he grunted in agreement.

  “I could—”

  “Only if they beg,” was his soft response. His arms tightened around me.

  I relaxed against him, more than willing to be sheltered in their strength.

  “Let it be done,” Reness demanded. She stood, and faced the tiers. “Let us make this decision now. No more talk. No more debate. Enough is known. Is Xylara, Daughter of Xy, to be confirmed as Warprize?”

  For a moment, no one moved. Then with a great rustle, the entire Council of Elders sat down. Essa and Wild Winds remained seated.

  “It is done,” Reness said with satisfaction. She turned to look at us, her face lighting up with a rare smile. “Only the ceremony remains to be held, and that will take a day to prepare.”

  “They should be separated until the ceremony,” Wild Winds demanded. “She has not yet made her choice and he—”

  I heard Keir’s blade leave the sheath as I twisted my wrist. His sword was out, in front of both of us like a shield. My blade sprang forth, and I lifted my arm so that it could be seen.

  “Never again,” I spat. “You’ll not separate us.”

  Keir snarled, “I’ll kill any that try.”

  Silence filled the tent, to be broken by Simus’s chuckle. “Separate them at your peril.”

  Essa frowned. “That is not—”

  Wild Winds snorted. “Let them be. Why waste more time?” He stepped stiffly off the platform. “The ceremony will be tomorrow night, under the darkening skies. She will
make her choice then.” He looked over at Essa. “End this senel, Eldest Singer, and let us seek out our tents and our beds.”

  Simus cleared his throat. “I and Keir’s warriors will guard the Warprize with the warrior-priests until the ceremony. I will protect the Warprize with my life.”

  Joden spoke then, causing all heads to turn. “I would guard her as well.”

  Keir stood, keeping me in the shelter of his arms. I rose with him, my legs trembling.

  “You would be welcome, Joden of the Hawk,” Keir spoke as he placed his hand at the small of my back and steadied me.

  “This senel is at an end, for this session, and for the season. The issue of Antas will be dealt with in the spring,” Essa said. “Word will be sent to you of the plans for the ceremony. You will be … ?”

  “In the tent of the Warprize.”

  I looked up at Keir in surprise. His face was still taut and tense.

  Essa inclined his head.

  With one swift move Keir swept me up into his arms, and started toward the tent entrance. I sighed, and let my head fall onto his shoulder. My head hurt and my nose and eyes were raw from crying. The bandages that I’d wrapped around my hands were in tatters, my tunic was stained and filthy, and there had to be bits of grass and gurtle fur in my hair.

  But under my ear, Keir’s heart beat strong and steady. His arms cradled me close. His mail would no doubt leave a pattern on my cheek. I didn’t care.

  I’d never been happier.

  We were out of the tent, and I shivered a bit as the chill air touched my skin. The sun had set, and stars were starting to appear. With each step, I could feel Keir’s body move, alive and well. I closed my eyes and breathed a silent prayer to the Goddess.

  Oh, Lady of the Moon and Stars, thank you for Keir’s life and health. Thank you for returning my beloved. Oh, Lady of the Moon and Stars, never let me take him for granted. Each day will be as a gift, each night will be a prayer of thanks.

  “Her tent is a good choice,” Simus spoke softly as we walked along. “The area around it is clear, and it will be easy to guard.”

  “Yveni, Ander, go fetch Marcus and the others, if they will come. Bring them to her tent,” Keir ordered. “Go quickly, and be wary.”

  I opened my eyes at the sound of his voice, to see the others were surrounding us, weapons drawn. Yveni and Ander were running off through the tents, to carry Keir’s message. I tensed, uneasy at the thought. “Do you think we’ll be attacked?”

  “Those that support Antas have fled,” Joden answered

  “Perhaps. We take no chances.” Keir’s voice was grim. He kept walking, a steady pace.

  “Essa seemed to think not.” Simus looked back at me, and flashed a grin. “But who is to say?”

  I worried my lower lip with my teeth. “Iften could—”

  “There is no longer a warrior by that name, Warprize,” Joden corrected me.

  Keir’s arm tightened around me. “How much farther?”

  “Not far,” Simus responded.

  It wasn’t. Rafe and Prest went in first, to check the tent. They emerged and indicated it was safe. Simus held the tent flap open as Keir tucked his head to enter. The tent was dark and cold, the sleeping area open to the main part. The fat little lamp was there by the bed, unlit and unhappy.

  Prest and Rafe stayed by the entrance, on guard.

  Keir sat me on one of the stools in the main area. He took off his cloak with a flourish and then wrapped it around me. The cloth held his warmth, and I pulled it in tight. Keir knelt for a moment, looking into my eyes with a look of wonder. “I’d thought I’d lost you.”

  I reached out and stroked his cheek. “I’m fine, Keir.”

  Joden stirred a brazier, as if looking for coals, but it appeared to be stone cold. “No one to tend to it.”

  That caught my attention. Was Amyu dead then as well? “What happened?” I asked Keir. “What happened after I left?”

  “What happened to you?” Simus asked. He took a stool near to me. “That’s what we want to know!”

  The sound of running feet distracted us. Keir stood, and drew his sword. Joden and Simus stood as well. Then Rafe opened the flap, and in ran Marcus with Atira, Heath, and Amyu.

  “Lara!” Marcus’s face was a joy to see. I leaped up and we hugged, his wiry arms wrapped around me.

  “Oh, Marcus, I’ve missed you so,” I sobbed, pulling back a bit to look into his eye. “You are well?”

  “Now that you are back where you belong.” Marcus stepped back, and looked around. “What is this? A cold tent? This will not do!” he sputtered, covering the tears I was sure he was about to shed. “Not that you could take her to yours!”

  I looked at Keir. “Why not?”

  “He never had it put up,” Simus said. “Too busy trying to gather support at first, talking and seeing people, sending us to guard you from a distance.”

  “I had other concerns,” Keir growled.

  “The Warlord would not let me return here,” Amyu explained. “Not after I disobeyed an Elder of my Tribe.”

  “Amyu.” I hugged her hard. She stiffened for a moment, and then returned the gesture. “Amyu, thank you for sparing my life.”

  “For which I also thank you,” Keir said.

  Amyu inclined her head. “I am not so much a child that I cannot repay a debt, Warlord.”

  Rafe got a funny look on his face. “And such a debt. The Warprize actually reached into the body of the life-giver and pulled the babes forth.” His voice was filled with admiration, but he looked a bit sick.

  “I would hear that truth,” Joden said.

  “Atira! Heath!” I hugged Atira first, then threw myself into Heath’s arms. But I pulled back quickly. “Heath! Your eye! What happened?”

  His eye was black, with deep purple bruises and swelling all around. It was almost completely swollen shut.

  Heath grimaced. “Nothing, Lara.” He glanced over at Atira, who glared right back at him.

  “Next time, you will not get between a warrior of the Plains and her enemy,” Atira snapped, clearly unsympathetic.

  “Oh, there’s a truth that needs telling!” Simus crowed.

  “First the braziers, then kavage and food.” Marcus stirred himself. “The tent is small, it will warm quickly.”

  “But I want to hear her truths!” Simus protested.

  “Pah,” Marcus scolded. “When we’re warm, inside and out. Move that lazy carcass of yours, and we can all hear, together.”

  “I’ll fetch wood,” Joden offered.

  “Reness will have some stew,” Amyu offered. “I can go and ask.”

  Simus grumbled, but he stood as well. “I’ll start the fires.”

  “I have not the right to command—” Keir started.

  I looked at him in astonishment, but Rafe cut him off. “You are our leader, Keir of the Cat. I will follow you, regardless of the Council’s decision. That which has been lost can be regained.”

  Prest and the others nodded.

  Simus smirked at Keir. “Told you.”

  Keir’s face relaxed. “I thank you all.” He straightened his shoulders. “Prest and Rafe, remain on watch,” Keir demanded. “Yveni and Ander, take the back. We do not relax our guard.” At their crestfallen faces, he amended his command. “Until the time for truth telling comes. Then we will sit together. Agreed?”

  “My tentmates will aid us,” Rafe offered. “If you wish, Warlord.”

  “I am no longer a Warlord, Rafe,” Keir protested.

  “You are,” Prest said pointedly, “to us.”

  Keir considered him, then nodded in agreement. Everyone got to work.

  I would have stood as well, but Keir’s hand was on my shoulder. I looked up into worried blue eyes. “Is anyone seriously hurt?” I asked. I looked into his eyes and smiled. “I’m fine, Keir.”

  “Bruises only,” Simus offered. “The blood belongs to others.”

  “I—” Keir drew my attention as he stopped, and cle
ared his throat. “It may be some time before I can let you out of my sight.”

  I leaned against him, and sighed, forgetting my concerns for the moment. “I feel the same, my Warlord.”

  Marcus was right, once the braziers were lit the tent warmed quickly. Amyu returned with a pot of stew and flat bread. The kavage was on the fire, and Marcus summoned my guards in to eat. We all crammed into the tent and settled close. Rafe and Prest remained by the tent entrance, their eyes constantly watching for trouble. The four women of Rafe’s tent were posted all around, so that we were secure as we could be.

  I managed to get Keir to sheath his sword and sit on a stool next to me. He was close enough that I could feel his breath on my cheek if I turned my head. Keir ignored the stew, but did take some kavage.

  Amyu had lit the little lamp, and its flame flickered and danced in welcome.

  “So, tell us.” Simus leaned in, his face full of curiosity. “Tell us what happened.”

  So I did, between sips of kavage. When I finished, Simus shook his head, and turned to Joden. “Have you ever heard of such?”

  “No.” Joden shook his head. “There are stories of the dead appearing to the living, but never to one not of the Plains.”

  “I thought I’d sent you to your death,” Keir said softly. “The horse should have fled to the herds. But it seems he took you much further.”

  “Just as well,” Simus added. “Since those warriors got past us and into the herds.”

  Keir grunted. “Still. Out as far as where the Snake Tribe keeps its gurtles? Why so far?”

  “The dead did it,” I offered. “Greatheart ran, and they surrounded us and urged us on. Gils, and Isdra and Epor.” I hesitated. “And Keekai.”

  We all went silent. A sob filled my throat. “She helped me so much.” I looked over at Keir, the grief etched on his face.

  “She believed in us,” Keir offered. “And died to protect you.”

  I moved into the shelter of his arm and Keir hugged me a bit closer. “It took three warriors to take her down, Lara. And she still managed to take one with her. An honorable end.”

  “One to sing of,” Joden said softly.

  I nodded in sorrow, but then looked at everyone around me. “I am so glad you all survived. But, Prest, where is Epor’s warclub?”