WarDance (Chronicles of the Warlands #5)(14)

“In the moment when the Token-bearer summoned the horses to the Heart, not just the living ones answered her call. The dead, too, both horse and warriors.” Wild Winds went silent for a moment, his eyes distant. He heaved a sigh, and shrugged. “The Sacrifice cried out for justice, and the magic answered with a needle of power. Those that followed Hail Storm offended the elements, and they died for it. You have seen the results.” Wild Winds raised his hand, his palm up in the traditional gesture. “May the people remember.”

“We will remember.”

“The sun is well above the horizon,” Wild Winds said. “These truths will be repeated again and again as more warriors return to the Heart. For now, let us rest and sleep on the truths we have shared.”

There was a rustle as the crowd roused and stood, yawning and blinking sleepily. They filed from the tent, their voices a soft murmur as they left.

Simus didn’t stir. He sat and waited as the tent cleared, the mug of kavage in his hand long cold. Joden, Eloix, and Yers remained as well, until the only ones left were themselves, Wild Winds, and his Snowfall.

“You have heard my truths, Simus of the Hawk.” Wild Winds shifted slightly so as to face him.

“I thank you for your truths,” Simus replied, considering the man before him carefully, then made an abrupt decision. “Wild Winds, I would ask for your token.”

Snowfall’s eyes went wide. Around Simus, Eloix, Joden, and Yers all started, Yers actually reaching for the hilt of his sword.

Simus waited. Warrior-priests had never honored this ritual, never sought or gave tokens, always responded with silence or violence. If there was true change...

Wild Winds gave Simus a wry smile. He nodded to the full mug of kavage in Simus’s hands. “You hold my token, Simus of the Hawk. What truths would you voice?”

“You’ve told me what has happened,” Simus said. “For which I thank you. But you haven’t told me what it means. For the warrior-priests. For the Plains.”

“I will speak to your truths.” Wild Winds sighed, his shoulders sagging. “I haven’t told you what it means, because I do not know,” he said.

Simus leaned back, struck by the plain honesty of the words. Even more, it was the worry in Wild Winds’s eyes that made him think the older man was telling the truth. Simus glanced at Joden, who seemed to share his own confusion.

“In truth, I never expected to see this dawn. The Warprize had a name for my death, slow and painful. ‘Cancer,’ she called it,” Wild Winds said.

“Yet you live,” Simus said.

“I was healed.” Wild Winds’s eyes flickered to the side and Simus knew there was more to that tale than what Wild Winds was telling.

“You are not telling me everything you know,” Simus said.

“Truth,” Wild Winds said. “We all have our secrets. But these events have come at me like a violent storm across the Plains.” Wild Winds shook his head, his long, matted braids moving around his face, “It happened so fast, I’ve had no time to consider the consequences.”

Simus nodded slowly.

“I know this much,” Wild Winds said. “There is work to be done.” He gestured with his chin toward the Heart.

Simus grimaced, but nodded his agreement. “The bodies must be seen to, the camps cleared.” He frowned, considering the full mug of kavage in his hand. “Osa and Ultie are not far, with their warriors,” Simus pointed out. “Other candidates will be arriving. We will make short work of what must be done, and, if you are willing, share these truths with them as well.”

“Yes,” Wild Winds nodded. “This truth must be shared with all.”

Simus stared at him, still not quite sure he believed what he was hearing.

Wild Winds chuckled then sobered quickly. “Do you know where Eldest Elder Reness is? Or Essa?”

“Eldest Elder Reness left with Lara and Keir to aid with the birth of their child,” Simus shrugged. “I’ve heard nothing of Essa. Do you fear—”

“I do not know,” Wild Winds sighed. “But always Essa has been the first to the Heart in the Spring. I feel the need for his truths now, and Reness as well. But I am too tired to think much past that thought.” He frowned, opened his mouth as if to say more, only to be cut off by a yawn. He chuckled, and shrugged at Simus ruefully. “It seems the night and day has caught up with me.”

“With us all,” Simus agreed, suddenly feeling his own weariness.

“Have I answered your truths?” Wild Winds gestured toward the mug, completing the ritual with a slight smile.

“You have.” Simus drained the mug, and then offered it back with his own rueful grin. Snowfall advanced to claim it from his hand.

“Then let us sleep on these truths we have told each other,” Wild Winds rose, and with him all in the tent rose as well, stretching stiff limbs.

Simus nodded. His own exhaustion was creeping up on him; he needed to sleep. “Until tonight, then.”




Simus led the others to where his tent had been pitched, greeting his warriors on watch. “The camp is set?” Simus asked.

“Aye, Warlord,” the First responded.

“Form a hunting party,” Simus ordered. “With any willing to go. The others are to grab what sleep they can, when off watch.”