WarDance (Chronicles of the Warlands #5)(20)

“Ever have I spoken my truths,” Joden growled. “Even at the cost of friendship.” He danced back from the blood spray.

Wyrik’s only answer was to spit, raise his blade and charge forward. A charge that Joden met head on, catching Wyrik’s sword with his own and forcing it up. For a breath they struggled, then broke apart.

“You lied to Antas,” Wyrik snarled, his voice thick and wet. “You said the city-dweller was no Warprize, then turned and—”

“But I saw my mistake.” Joden’s anger distorted his face. “A Warprize must be discovered during the course of a battle, or on or near a battlefield. As Lara was. A Warprize must render aid to the Warlord or his men. As Lara did.” Joden never took his eyes off his opponent, but he raised his voice for all to hear. “Finally, a Warprize must be attractive to a Warlord, must spark feelings of desire.”

“As the heat of the sun that shines in the height of summer,” Simus announced. “And that is certainly true of Lara and Keir. Lara is a true Warprize to her Warlord.”

“Aye,” Joden growled, circling Wyrik, looking for an opening. Wyrik watched him warily.

“I may not support Lara and Keir in all things,” Joden said. “But I will ever speak my truth, even if it means I admit my mistakes. And I will prove it on your—”

“Enough,” Nires’s deep voice rumbled over them. “This gets us no answers. Withdraw your words, Wyrik. Or we’ll leave the two of you to resolve your truths.” Nires’s voice went dry. “From what I have seen, I have a feeling that Joden will have the last say.”





Chapter Nine


Wyrik stood, breathing hard as the blood ran down his chin to drip on his chest. His eyes never left Joden’s.

“I’m willing to leave it here.” Joden took a step back and sheathed his blade. “The day has been a long one, and I feel the need for kavage.”

“Spoken as a Singer-to-be,” Simus called out. “What say you, Wyrik?”

Wyrik swung his glare at Simus, then back to Joden. “I withdraw my words,” he spat, then stomped off, pushing through the crowd.

Simus almost laughed out loud, but decided not to. The Warprize had forced a supply of bloodmoss on every warrior. He could offer Wyrik some bloodmoss to stop the bleeding.

But then again, maybe not.

“What say you, Simus of the Hawk?” Nires asked. Simus watched as everyone focused on him. “Where is Wild Winds?”

“I do not know,” Simus said. “But he was here, and the warrior-priests were responsible for all that occurred. Joden and I can tell you the truths that were told to us; you can believe as you so choose.” Simus eyed the clouds on the horizon. “There is a storm brewing. I can offer you the comfort of my tent, with hot kavage and food, or we can tell it here so that none are tainted by my courtesy.”

Ultie snorted.

Nires frowned. “Take no insult, Simus of the Hawk. Sunset comes, and with it the winds bring a storm. I would hear the basics now; the rest can wait for another day.”

“I would ask Joden to speak then,” Simus said. “For he has witnessed all that was said.”

“I will start with our approach to the Heart, after the needle of light pierced the sky,” Joden said. His ire was still up; his tone was sharp, words clipped and terse. Joden recited the story as it had been told. Simus stood, listening, playing with his kavage mug as the wind began to rise. Clouds off in the distance promised rain soon to come.

“These are the truths I was told by Wild Winds,” Joden finished, his voice once again slow and reasonable.

“I confirm the tale,” Simus said firmly.

“I do not know what to make of this,” Ultie rumbled. “Warrior-priests turning on each other now? Becoming more powerful, and telling the truth of such?” Ultie pointed a finger at Simus. “What has Keir wrought upon the Plains, with that Warprize of his?’

Joden jumped in before Simus could open his mouth. “You cannot lay all of this at Keir’s feet. The warrior-priests seem to have brought this upon their own heads, no fault of the Warprize.” Joden shrugged. “Other changes, yes. But this?”

“I would offer no offense, Joden of the Hawk, but I’d not believe a word of this tale,” Ietha said. “Except my own eyes witnessed the fire in the night, and see the dead in the field.”

“A field that needs clearing,” Osa pointed out. “And with so many they must needs be given to the earth.”

“There’s truth to that, Joden,” Nires said. “In all my seasons, we have always left the battlefield to the enemy. Now I find it here, on the Plains, at the very Heart.” He shook his head, his face a mix of frustration and confusion and disgust.

“What of the Council?” Reht asked gruffly, picking at her gloves. “Will the Council form? Wild Winds is apparently here, but where is Essa? Reness?”

“And there is no Eldest Elder of the Warriors,” Zioa said pointedly.

“Eager for the title, Zioa?” Reht asked.

“Antas holds that place,” Loual growled.

“Antas of the Boar was stripped of the title when he called for violence against the Warprize in a Council meeting,” Simus said firmly. “Nires was named in his place.”