WarDance (Chronicles of the Warlands #5)(33)

“Eat,” Liam commanded, seating himself opposite her.

Eloix tore off a piece off the loaf, made good use of the butter, and crammed it in her mouth.

“I’ve barely arrived from Water’s Fall, but it seems they’ve stored up all their disputes for me to resolve. That chaos in the outer yard—” Liam tore off a hunk of bread for himself. “That chaos is the supplies that Othur has sent to Simus.”

Eloix’s mouth was full, but she raised a questioning eyebrow, then leaned back to let the girl place a plate of roasted fowl before her.

“The Seneschal thought to send a healer with the supplies,” Liam said. “I am not sure that was wise decision. You have met the Warprize?”

Eloix nodded, tearing the leg from the bird, and bit into the succulent meat.

“Well, let us just say, he is not Lara.” Liam grimaced. “Be that as it may, I will hear your news, have you sleep this night within my walls, and then send you on your way with two warriors as escorts as soon as the sun rises.”

“But, there’s no need,” Eloix protested then choked, and reached for kavage. The meat was sweet and tangy, with spices she didn’t know. Good, though.

“Eat,” Liam commanded again. “I know there remains hours of daylight yet, but you will be all the better rested for the journey ahead. You met no opposition on the way here?” At her nod, he shrugged. “That may not be so for the rest of your journey. There has been no word from the Plains since the night of the fire needle that reached into the sky, and sounded the tones that shook us all to our very marrow.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “You will tell me what occurred, yes?”

Eloix swallowed and nodded.

“Finish your meal first. Keir has asked that I secure this place for a time, then continue on to the Heart to aid Simus,” Liam continued. “No word has followed me from Water’s Fall. That worries me, but it may be too soon to expect a rider, or it may be that nothing of consequence has occurred.” Liam scowled. “I dislike silence.”

Eloix kept eating, since she was fairly certain he wasn’t talking to her. Not really.

“If nothing else, he promised to let me know if aught threatened anyone within the walls of the City.” Liam shook his head. “Marcus, you foolish old badger...”

His voice trailed off, and Eloix did the smart thing and kept her eyes down and continued eating. Nothing good could come of that topic, and she’d no mind to speak with no token in sight.

Skies, even if he’d had his token there, she’d a mind to stay silent. Her thea didn’t raise a fool.

“At any rate, I have messages that I would have you take to Keir and Lara,” Liam said, then held up a hand before she could stop eating. “Written messages, for there is a Xyian here who takes down my words. When you leave you will take them with you.”

Liam drummed his fingers on the table. At first Eloix thought he was impatient with her, but his eyes were far away and lost in thought. She ate steadily then, finishing the meal with a sigh and a long drink of kavage. She set down the mug, a burp catching her by surprise.

But it served to bring the Warlord back from his wanderings. “Done?”

She nodded.

“Then give me your truths,” he commanded.

“On the morning of the night of the pillar of fire,” she began, settling in for a long tale. “The warrior-priests drove us from the Heart...”





Chapter Thirteen


Simus dodged his challenger’s blade with an elaborate spin, bringing his dagger within a hair’s breadth of his opponent’s cheek. But she dodged, shifting just enough to avoid his blade. Simus laughed in pure pleasure as she danced back away from him.

Clearly this Misa of the Cat was wary of his next attack.

The Trials may have gotten off to a slow start, but like a waking sleeper, they were rousing. The Heart of the Plains was beating, growing stronger and faster as warriors gathered around the great circular stone. More warriors arrived every day, adding to the chaos, confusion and growing strength of the Heart.

Simus feigned a charge, holding his sword low, and his dagger high, pulling up short as she darted just at the edge of the circle, trying to get behind him. He laughed out loud as he spun again, daring her to close with him.

She didn’t rise to the lure. She stood, breathing hard, swords at the ready. Her pale brown hair stuck to the sweat on her face.

Simus stilled, watched, and waited.

Fighting with two swords was all well and good, but Simus preferred the sword and dagger. The shorter blade offered strikes one couldn’t achieve with two longer weapons. Not that two swords were a bad choice; Keir preferred that style. His opponent was good with them, there was no doubt of that.

Simus was better with his.

He drew a deeper breath, enjoying the warm looseness of his arms and legs, the sheen of sweat on his face. The past days had been filled with questions and problems as others sought his leadership and guidance. Simus dealt with them all, taking charge of his growing army, worrying about tent placements, organizing rosters and hunts, knowing that this too was the work of a Warlord.

But he relished the challenges. Blade against blade under the open sky, with his blood singing through his body. And, of course, the admiring glances of those that gathered to watch.

And they did gather. Simus grinned, but he wasn’t fool enough to glance around to see who watched.