WarDance (Chronicles of the Warlands #5)(40)

“A good man,” Simus said shortly. “Poor Lara, for such joy and such sorrow all in the same day. And Keir has lost an advisor of great worth.” Simus looked north. “I wish I knew what was happening there.”

“They wish the same,” Joden said. “And we’ll know more when Elois wakes. If I know her, that won’t be long after sunrise.” He sighed. “But I had another reason to seek you out. Late last night I learned that the last of the candidates has established a camp, and the bulk of the warriors have arrived. The mood is changing, and the challenges will be more serious from here on.”

“That was to be expected,” Simus said calmly, but his heart sped up as he headed back to his tent. “The next few days will tell the tale.”




Eloix saw clear field beyond the trees and sighed with relief. She’d caught glimpses of the towers of Water’s Fall as they rode, but she’d be glad just to be out from under the forest. Once in the open, she’d be able to breathe. She didn’t like the way the trees hung over her and blotted out the skies and sunlight. It felt unnatural.

The horse’s ears perked up, and she felt it quicken its pace. No doubt the animal saw the walls, and was ready for its stall in a barn. Strange Xyian customs, that went against the elements in every way. But it was what the horse was used to, and that she could understand.

She’d be just as glad to be off its back, that was certain.

Her two escorts, both Xyian warriors, had been friendly enough. The road had been good, and they’d made decent time for Xyian horses. But she’d be glad to see the Warprize and Warlord and finish her task. And Lady Anna’s bread, so different from the Plains. Fluffy and white and good. Eloix’s stomach rumbled at the thought.

They were half way up the road when horns sounded from the walls. “They’re hailing us,” one of the escort said.

Eloix looked at the walls, to see the warriors there, waving their arms, and calling out. “That looks more like a warn—”

A huge shadow moved over them, blotting out the sun. There was a sudden gust of wind, bringing the smell of rotting meat.

Eloix’s horse laid its ears flat, and jumped into a gallop. Eloix kept her seat and looked back, over her shoulder.

A monster flew in the sky behind her, a huge beast with wings outspread, clawed feet reaching for her horse’s rump. It was dark and leathery, with cruel eyes in a head topped by two wicked, spiraled horns. It had missed its target, hissing with frustration. It beat its wings to climb higher into the sky, raising a cloud of dust and debris.

Her escort was shouting now, one galloping off the road. Horrified, Eloix watched as a second beast tore that warrior from his saddle, and pulled him into the air. Its tail was long, arching over its body. It stung the man, who screamed again and again.

Arrows and bolts arched over her head, from the walls. Eloix went flat against her horse’s neck, and urged it on, thinking only of shelter.

The shadow drew closer, coming at her across the grass. Eloix snarled and reached for one of her lances, determined to strike a— Pain ripped through her shoulders as the sun was blotted out; the sound of hissing filled her ears. She flung herself to the side, hoping to tumble off. There was the road, and then grass, and then...blackness.





Chapter Sixteen


Simus acknowledged that Joden was right. The tone of the challenges had changed. It was in the winds that blew warmer, in the rising sun that shone hotter, in flowering grasses where the petals were falling away. In the sounds of the camps, and the talk of the warriors...

And in the blade of his opponent.

Simus held his sword and dagger before him defensively, drew a breath and considered the man. One Pero of the Badger, who had served as a Tenth with Keir in the past and knew Simus well. An older, seasoned warrior of many campaigns. Grey of hair and dark of skin, Pero was a short and wiry warrior, with strength behind his blows.

Pero had started the fight with cautious intent, probing Simus for weaknesses. No reckless moves from this one. Nor was he quick about it. They’d been at this for some time. Careful, steady, relentless: that was the challenge this Tenth gave Simus. Testing him, that was certain.

The change of tone was also in the faces of the other Tenths who stood around them, silently watching their combat. Simus felt the weight of their judgment as a knot between his shoulder blades.

Simus rolled his shoulders to release that knot as he waited for Pero to make his next move. He’d need to conserve his energies. As tempting as it was to attack, better to—

Pero’s teeth flashed in a grin, as if he’d read Simus’s mind, and rushed in low and fast.

Simus’s sword rang as he blocked Pero’s weapon, and then shifted to try to bring his dagger to bear. Pero was ready for that, and blocked with his shorter blade. Pero stepped back, and to Simus’s surprise, darted a glance off to the side. As if looking for a signal? Approval?

It didn’t matter. Simus took his opportunity and struck hard with his sword. Pero blocked that, but seemingly stumbled and almost seemed to turn into Simus’s dagger, letting the blade cut his cheek.

They broke apart, breathing hard, as the Singer called out Simus’s victory.

Simus stood silent as Pero sheathed his sword with a shrug, and then offered his dagger, hilt toward Simus, the point at his heart. “I offer my surrender, Warlord.”