WarDance (Chronicles of the Warlands #5)(15)

“Aye, Warlord,” came the responses as he ducked into his tent. He turned to face Joden, Eloix, and Yers as they entered behind him. He lowered his voice, not bothering with bells. “You heard it all. I’ve not the wits left to talk it out now. Eloix—”

“There’s enough daylight for some hours in the saddle,” she murmured. “A few mugs of strong kavage, and I can be off.”

“Good.” Simus smiled his approval. “Tuck yourself into the hunting party. Ride for Xy once you are clear of watching eyes.”

“We should send two messengers,” Yers suggested. “By separate ways.”

“I cannot spare a warrior,” Simus said. “There are few enough here with me that I trust, and the loss of another may mean failure on our part. Little good that will do our cause.”

Yers crossed his arms over his chest, but nodded his agreement.

“Go carefully,” Simus said to Eloix. “Stop at the border and tell all to Liam of the Deer if he is there. Then make haste to Xy. Keir must be told of this.” He sighed. “I do not trust this sudden change, but for now we will take it as truth.”

“I will tell him,” Eloix said.

“Tell him this as well,” Simus stared at the wall of the tent, organizing his thoughts. Eloix waited silently.

“We’d thought that this year would be spent in preparation,” Simus said. “I would build my army; Joden would become Singer. Keir would build his strength in Xy, and then he would return next Spring to reclaim the title of Warlord, and then to WarKing. I will continue with that goal, but I think he should consider returning to the Plains now. This season. His presence could make a difference.”

“Even if Eloix rides like the winds themselves, Keir could not get here before the Trials are concluded,” Yers protested.

“Truth,” Simus said. “But Keir’s presence gives us more choices than his absence.” He focused on Eloix. “He will have to decide.”

“I will tell him,” Eloix said.

“Say this as well to Lara,” Simus said. “Little healer, I regret pulling him from your side.”

“From your lips to her ear,” Eloix promised.

“The elements ride with you,” Simus said softly. Eloix bowed her head. Yers opened the tent flap and they both left together.

Joden stood there, blinking in the shadows of the tent. “Such a song I could write,” he breathed.

“Not now,” Simus said firmly. “Sleep, then we will see what the skies bring our way. Get to your tent, Joden. Or better yet—” Simus barked an order and one of the warriors threw back the flap and looked in. “Joden and I will snatch a few hours’ sleep. See to it that Joden returns to his tent,” Simus commanded, starting to remove his leathers. “And make sure he’s bedded down before you leave, else he will make songs in his head the rest of the day.”

“I’ll see to it,” the warrior chuckled. “Come, Singer.”

“Not a Singer yet,” Joden protested, as the warrior tugged on his arm.

Simus snorted his amusement as he stripped and crawled into his bedroll. He settled into the furs with a willing sigh of relief, and closed his eyes. His old thea had always said that a warrior sleeps when he can, the better to be prepared. But his thoughts raced, filled with his own questions.

With a huff, he rolled over and forced himself to think on something else. Something...distracting.

Like the mysteries in the depths of cool, grey eyes.

Those thoughts, that sense of curiosity. Simus smiled at himself. As if a warrior-priestess would share her secrets. That would be even stranger than the events of this day. He yawned and settled into sleep.

And dreamed of kavage laced with milk...and just a touch of honey.





Chapter Seven


Wild Winds tiredly stripped and curled up on his bedroll. Snowfall fussed as she carefully covered him completely with his furs, as if he were still ill. Still dying.

“So?” he asked sleepily, pulling the blankets to his shoulders. “What do you think of Simus?”

“I do not understand,” she said softly, dodging his question and his eyes. “Why you would send me from your side.”

Wild Winds rolled over onto his back, stretching under the bedding, then relaxing with a sigh as they warmed with his body heat. “Now it’s more important than ever.” He yawned. “And you are avoiding my question. Tell me your truths.”

“He is a handsome, strong warrior, taller than most. But Simus does not trust you.” Snowfall shrugged. “He does not trust us.”

“No reason that he should,” Wild Winds said. “One night will not change that. But I am still intent on my purpose. You must contest to be his Token-bearer.”

“You have seen to my training,” Snowfall countered, her voice crackling with pain. “You will need my help with the others.”

“No.” Wild Winds looked at her. “I need your help to win back the trust we lost with Hail Storm’s actions, for he has destroyed what the warrior-priests were. Now we must rebuild what we are, and how better than to offer one of our own to serve Simus? To learn more of the man who would stand at the side of one who would bring change to the Plains?”

“He is an arrogant, over-confident wind blowing over the Plains,” Snowfall blurted out. “Over-sure of himself, and rude as well.”