WarDance (Chronicles of the Warlands #5)(102)

“Wyverns?” he asked Destal.

“They’ve settled since the nooning—the horns have not sounded for some time,” she said. “But I wouldn’t linger.”

Simus repeated her words for Essa, then turned back to Destal. Simus lowered his voice. “My thanks,” he said.

“It will be instructive for my charges to watch the Council administer the oaths,” Destal said. “Nothing more.”

Simus grinned at Snowfall.

Snowfall puffed out a breath from behind Destal. “Well?” she demanded, showing cracks in her reserve. “What happened?”

Simus opened his mouth to answer her, but Essa’s voice cut him off. “Simus of the Hawk,” the Eldest Elder Singer called. “Come and be the first to be sworn as Warlord.”

Snowfall’s smile was blinding and quick, for his eyes only.

Simus laughed, turned, and strode to where the four Eldest Elders stood, surrounded by the Elders and other Warlord candidates, and all the other warriors gathered to watch.

He stood before them, tall and proud, trying to take it all in.

“Kneel, Simus, and offer your sword.”

He pulled his sword, and knelt, offering his blade between his two hands.

Essa spoke loudly, his voice carrying over the crowd. “Simus of the Hawk, Warrior of the Plains. You come before us as a candidate for Warlord. Do you wish to serve the Plains?”

“I do,” Simus said.

“Name your Second,” Essa said.

“Tsor of the Bear,” Simus said. Tsor stepped forward and rested his right hand on Simus’s left shoulder.

“Name your Token-bearer,” Essa said.

“Elois of the Horse,” Simus said. Elois stepped forward and rested her left hand on Simus’s right shoulder.

“Have they passed through their Trials?” Essa asked.

“They have,” Simus said. “I am witness to this truth.”

“Do any deny this truth?” Essa asked the crowd. There was no response.

“Tsor of the Bear. Elois of the Horse. Has Simus of the Hawk passed through his Trials?”

“He has,” Tsor said. “I am witness to this truth.”

“He has,” Elois said. “I am witness to this truth.”

“Do any deny this truth?” Essa asked. There was no response.

“Simus of the Hawk, we of the Council entrust you with the lives of the Warriors of the Plains. Will you take responsibility for these lives and hold them dear?”

“I will,” Simus vowed. “I will be their Warlord in all things. Their flesh is my flesh, their blood is my blood.

“Simus of the Hawk, the Council of the Elders names you Warlord of the North.” Essa drew a deep breath, and placed the tips of his fingers on Simus’s blade. “May the very air of this land grant you breath.”

Wild Winds moved closer and placed his fingers on the blade. “Simus of the Hawk, the Council of the Elders names you Warlord of the North. May the very earth of this land support your feet.”

Haya placed her fingers on his blade. Her voice sounded oddly rough, and Simus glanced up to see tears in her eyes. “Simus of the Hawk, the Council of the Elders names you Warlord of the North. May the very fires of this land warm your skin.”

Nires was next, and there was no hesitation in his actions or voice. He placed his fingers on the blade. “Simus of the Hawk, the Council of Elders names you Warlord of the North. May the very waters of this land quench your thirst.”

“Rise, Warlord, and serve your people,” Essa commanded.

Simus did, sheathing his sword and standing tall. And ever after remembered his pleasure in the moment, for the goal achieved, for the blue skies above, for the horns in the distance, for the cheers of the warriors around him...and the joy in Snowfall’s eyes.





Chapter Forty-One


Amyu was dismayed to discover a man at the cheese cart instead of Kalisa. She hesitated, letting the crowd swirl around her in the busy marketplace. With the wyverns gone, life had returned to normal in Water’s Fall.

She tried to settle her nerves. She’d the permission of the Warprize, and she was an adult in this world. A warrior. She could do this. And if the old one knew anything of airions...

Amyu marched over before she let herself think.

“Excuse me,” she said.

The man was finishing a trade of cheese and hard bread. He flashed her a grin as he pocketed the coins. “How may I aid you, m’lady?”

“I am Amyu,” she said, repeating the words the Warprize had said she should say. “I am in the service of Queen Xylara. I wish to speak...to hear the words of Kalisa, the cheesemaker.”

“I am Anser,” the man replied. “Aunt Kalisa could not work the cart today, due to her aches. I cannot leave the trade,” he continued. “But my wife will be by soon with my midday meal, and she would gladly take you to her.”

“I wish to hear her tales,” Amyu said. “Because she is old. As old as any the Queen knows.”

Anser barked out a laugh. “Well, don’t tell her that, or she’ll bite your ear off. Old Auntie is sensitive about her age.”

Amyu raised her fingers to her ear.

Anser laughed again. “I forget you Firelanders...those of the Plains...take everything at its word.” He sliced some of the yellow cheese, and put it between two crackers. “She would not bite your ear off. She would be offended if you tell her she is old.” He offered her the food.