WarDance (Chronicles of the Warlands #5)(106)

His heart swelled with the joy of the moment. To have her at his side, to be Warlord, to have survived to reach this time, this moment...

Only one thing remained for perfection.

“Elois,” Simus bellowed. “Let it be known that I would trade with any in my army for the finest gold wire, beads, and small gems. The finest, mind.”

“As you say, Warlord,” Elois said. “But you’d find those things easier in Xy.”

“No, no,” Simus said. “For I would weave a bonding in the ear of Snowfall of the Plains long before we reach Xy.”

The looks of shock and horror around him made his happiness complete. But none more than that of Snowfall, stunned, her mouth hanging open.

Simus smiled.

“You,” Snowfall sputtered, her usual calm countenance alive with outrage and anger.

“You arrogant, stupid, insufferable—”

“One usually asks one’s bonded first,” Elois noted. “Usually under the bells.”

“There is no ‘usual’ with Simus,” Tsor pointed out.

“You and I shall be bonded,” Simus said to Snowfall. “You are the flame of my heart, Snowfall.”

“Your wits never existed,” Snowfall yelled. “Much less having been taken by the winds. Warrior-priests do not bond. Warlords do not bond while—”

“Yes, they do,” Simus said, smiling at her. “We will bond, Snowfall of the Plains, and you will be my star, my flame, my night wind, and my morning sun. You and I—” Simus moved his horse in closer, and swept Snowfall from her saddle.

She didn’t resist. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him settle her in his arms. “You arrogant, foolish—”

“Say ‘yes,’” Simus said.

Snowfall huffed. “As if I’d agree to bind myself to—”

Simus laughed. “Yes, you will, my heart’s delight.”

“And why would I do that?” Snowfall leaned back to look him in the eye.

“No one else makes your heart pound as I do,” Simus said simply. “No one else makes your mouth go dry with desire. No one else makes you laugh as I do.” He paused, and then grew serious. “As you do for me. Bond with me, Snowfall of the Plains.”

She looked away, and Simus’s heart sank. He’d acted without thinking, but it was his truth and— The tattoos on her shoulders started to move, and flowers appeared. Red, blue, yellow, all the colors of the Plains in springtime.

He lifted his eyes to find Snowfall giving him a warm look with grey eyes that sparkled.

“What do you say?” Simus asked, daring to hope.

“We will bond, Simus of the Hawk, Warlord of the Plains.” Snowfall pressed her forehead to his. “And you will be my star, my flame, my night wind, and my morning sun.”

Simus blinked away tears, and kissed her, softly at first, then—

“None of that now.” Elois rode closer and rolled her eyes. “You will fall off the horse, and then where will we be?’

Simus roared out his laughter. “Truth,” he said. He helped Snowfall regain her saddle, then looked around at his warriors, all grinning at him.

“There’s work to be done,” he called out. “To Xy!”





Epilogue


Hanstau just knew that his buttocks would be sore for days if he ever got off this godsforsaken horse.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to ride; he’d been taught the basics, and ridden in his younger years when he’d served as healer to the army. But that had been many years ago, before his marriage, before obtaining his Mastery. The Lords and Ladies of Xy rode horses. Craftsmen like him walked, or took pony carts.

He smiled despite his misery. How horrified his wife would have been to see him riding on the Plains, following a Firelander warrior-priestess, surrounded by Firelander warriors.

But she’d have been proud and pleased as well at the bargain he’d struck. Their children were now well placed, in good apprenticeships, holding promise for their futures. A practical woman, Fleure had been. For all that their marriage had been an arranged one, they’d done well together.

It still hurt to think of her death, of the lump in her breast, and her wasting away. He’d been helpless, and Master Healer Eln as well, though they’d tried every remedy they had. All to no avail.

Hanstau looked ahead, where Wild Winds rode, keeping them at a swift pace. If there was any chance that he might be able to learn to heal magically...the very idea took his breath. It was worth it, this discomfort, if there was any hope....Besides, Wild Winds had to be hurting as well, what with that wound to his head.

The horse under Hanstau’s legs huffed out a breath, apparently as tired of Hanstau as Hanstau was tired of it. Oh, for his oxen cart, or the pony carts he rode in Xy, or just to be able to get off and walk for a while. Was there really this need to rush?

Cadr rode next to him, and gave him a grin. “Straighten your legs,” he called, showing by example. All fine and well for him, Hanstau groaned. But there was only so long that he could hold that pose, and they’d been riding for what felt like hours.

He was just promising himself at least three cups of willow-bark tea as soon as they camped, when a buzzing noise went past his head.

“What?” was all Hanstau had time for. Cadr reached over, grabbed his arm, and yanked him from his saddle.