WarDance (Chronicles of the Warlands #5)(25)

“Ah.” Antas leaned forward, feeling a bit more confident. “But you know that the Council of Elders have failed us. Failed to protect the Plains from Keir of the Cat and those of his ilk.”

“I hear that blood was spilt,” Haya said, staring into her mug of kavage. “I hear that a Warprize was claimed, and that Keir of the Cat was stripped of his position, Warlord no longer. What dangers do you speak of, Antas?”

“The threat to our ways, our traditions,” Antas said. “The loss of respect for our warrior-priests—”

“If it’s lost, it’s their own fault,” snapped the young warrior who had served them, the pitcher of kavage clutched tight in her white-knuckled hands. “They—”

“Tenna,” Haya cut her off. “See to the warriors without.”

Tenna pressed her lips together, bowed her head, and limped from the tent.

“Forgive her lapse,” Haya said tightly. “The dead we mourn this day were of her tent.”

Antas gave her an understanding nod. “Haya, you are known as a thea of strength and ability. For years you have raised strong young warriors to serve the Plains—”

“I have already released my young ones to the Plains,” Haya said. “If you seek warriors, you must go the Heart and raise your banner.”

“I seek your entire camp, Haya, to place it under my protection,” Antas said.

That shocked the old gurtle into silence.

“I protect this camp,” Seo growled.

“I honor that.” Antas gave the Elder a nod. “You are weaponsmaster to the young, and keep them safe from the normal perils of the Plains. But these are not normal times, Seo. And the dangers can come in many forms. We must keep to the old paths and restore the old ways. The young ones must be kept safe and free of taint.”

The three before him were still and silent, waiting.

“There are those of us that feel that the Council itself is a danger, when it allows strange ideas and brings changes to our ways,” Antas continued. “I would gather those that would resist those changes, so that we may protect the Plains by any means necessary.”

He met their unblinking stares with his own.

The sound of wailing came through the tent walls.

Haya rose. “I thank you for your truths,” she said. “We will consider them.”

There wasn’t much more he could do but rise from his seat, and allow her to escort them from the tent.

Veritt waited until they were mounted and moving away from the camp before speaking. “She mentioned Reness,” he said under his breath. “Do you think she knows?”

Antas settled himself into his saddle. “She knows nothing of what has happened,” he huffed. “Else we’d have not been met with welcome.” He set his horse to a trot, and the others moved with him.

“And now?” Veritt asked.

“We’ve convinced three theas to join us,” Antas said, thinking aloud. “We’ll return to our camp. I hope to find Hail Storm there with word of what has happened at the Heart.”

Antas glanced over his shoulder at the tents behind them. Haya stood there, her arms crossed over her chest, watching them depart. He smiled grimly to himself as he faced forward. “From there, we will see. Decisions must wait until I know more.”

“Simus of the Hawk will be raising his banner,” Veritt warned.

“Let him,” Antas growled. “It will do him no good. If those that challenge him fail to take him down, I will face him myself, mace in hand.”




Haya watched as Antas and his warriors rode off. She felt Seo move up behind her, his warmth at her shoulder. “Of all the Councils I did not attend,” she muttered, irritated with herself. “It had to be this last one.”

“You had three life-bearers giving birth,” Seo reminded her.

“Truth,” Haya said.

“And if you had been there?” Seo asked. “Would you have supported Keir?”

“I don’t know,” Haya admitted with a shrug.

“But you weren’t there,” Seo said. “Besides, what are Councils but hot breath, wasted words, and stale kavage in a tent?”

“Useful, to have my words returned to me,” Haya said dryly. “My thanks for your truths.”

Seo chuckled.

“Antas drew first,” Quartis said as he emerged from the tent. “He called for the death of the city-dweller before she could be named as Warprize. Or so Essa said last season.”

“I would have preferred to have seen this truth for myself, or heard it from Reness.” Haya frowned as she watched Antas and his warriors disappear over a rise.

“You did not tell him of your role with the Sacrifice, the Token-bearer, and the Guardians you provided,” Quartis observed with a neutral tone.

“A Singer’s question,” Haya gave him an amused look. “Singers, ever asking without actually asking.”

Quartis returned her look with a half-smile.

Haya turned back to watch the departing warriors. “It seems to me the less said of that the better. Especially after last night.”

Tenna limped up, a basket of dirty mugs in her hands. Her hands were shaking, but she stood tall before them. She’d been one of the Guardians. Haya’s heart filled with pride, but it wouldn’t do to show it.