WarDance (Chronicles of the Warlands #5)(47)

There were gasps, then silence as she pulled her blades, knelt before him and swore her oath.

“My first command is that you are to use none of your powers without my knowledge and permission.”

That got him a startled glance of grey eyes that fell away, hidden under dark lashes. Clearly, she hadn’t expected that. There was a long pause before she spoke.

“I obey, Warlord.” Snowfall rose to her feet in one swift, graceful move.

“Further,” Simus said, “you may challenge for Token-bearer.”

Destal leapt to her feet, snarling. “I will kill you, bragnect.”

“It is not my wish that you kill her, Destal,” Simus said calmly.

“Is that an order, Warlord?” Destal snapped.

“It is if it needs to be,” Simus replied coolly.

Destal glanced at his face and looked away. “That will not be necessary, Warlord.”

“Quartis, will you judge?” Simus asked the Singer.

“It would be my honor,” Quartis responded quickly.

“Whoever wins should serve me my kavage,” Simus announced, turned, and went into his tent. The roar behind him indicated that the crowd was on its feet and had already chosen sides.

The clamor almost drowned out the voices of Yers, Joden, and Seo as they followed him within.

“What are you thinking?” Yers demanded.

“Haya will not be pleased,” Seo announced as they moved further into the depths of the tent, the better to hear one another. “She bears no love for warrior-priests.”

“Where is the Elder Thea?” Simus asked.

Seo beamed, his tanned face turning into a mass of wrinkles. “She’s trying to pry knowledge from that healer. She knows no Xyian, so he keeps speaking louder and slower as Cadr tries to translate. It’s going like a grassfire. I suspect that Haya may burst from sheer frustration.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Yers demanded again. “She is one of them.”

Simus sat on his gurtle pad at the head of the room. “I doubt she will survive the challenges. But if she does, as a warrior under my command she is a valuable source of knowledge about the warrior-priests, and she is sworn to my service.” Simus raised his eyes to Yers. “And you forget yourself.”

Yers drew a deep breath, clearly calming himself. “Warlord, I would be doing less than my duty to you if I did not point out that you are making a mistake. You yourself reminded us that the position held by Marcus is not the traditional role of a Token-bearer. You would have her speak for you? A warrior-priestess?”

Joden looked troubled. “Simus, he is not wrong. The choice—”

“The ultimate choice is mine,” Simus said. “At the end of the Trials, I pick my Token-bearer from those that have won the right to contest for it. It is a process, not an elimination. Allowing her to challenge is no risk to me.”

A roar came from outside the flap.

“But it allows her within your camp, and confidences,” Yers said. “If she doesn’t poison your kavage, or attempt to bewitch you with her powers. What would Warlord Keir think of this if he were here? He’d never trust—”

“Keir is not here,” Simus hardened his voice. “I will be Warlord within my own right. And have you not given me your oath?”

Yers dropped his gaze and lowered himself to one knee. “Yes, Warlord.”

“Do you wish to rescind your oath?” Simus pressed.

“No, Warlord,” Yers said, his eyes still down.

“No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy,” Simus stated firmly. “I will see this done as best I know how, knowing our goals. But the choices and decisions are mine to make.” Simus paused. “If you feel differently, give me your token, tell me your truths, and I will release you from my service.”

There was silence, then Yers bowed his head. “No, Warlord, I obey.”

“Like Keir, I wish to hear your truths,” Simus said. “But in the end, I will make my decisions and expect to be obeyed. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Warlord,” Yers said. With that, he seated himself at Simus’s side.

Simus glanced at Joden, who said nothing, then turned to look at Seo. The older man gave him a nod. Was that approval from his old weapons-master? He had to be mistaken.

Seo’s wrinkled face folded into a smile. “Can’t wait to tell this to Haya. She’ll have a few things to say, that is certain.”

The tent flap flew open, and Destal stomped through, a look of rage on her face and a cut on her cheek. Snowfall followed behind her, her face calm, her knives sheathed. They disappeared into the serving area, and Simus found himself holding his breath, listening. But there was only silence and the clatter of pottery.

Finally, Snowfall emerged carrying a pitcher of kavage and mugs. She walked up to them, still cool and calm. “Kavage, Warlord?”

“Yes, Token-bearer.” Simus took the mug from her hand.

Snowfall turned and offered kavage to Yers, who declined, and then to Joden and Seo, who both took a mug. She then turned back to Simus. “Should I raise your challenge banner, Warlord?”

“Yes,” Simus took a sip of the kavage.

“More warriors would ask permission to challenge for Token-bearer, Warlord,” Snowfall said calmly. “They are lining up outside.”