WarDance (Chronicles of the Warlands #5)(62)

Simus knelt and his warriors followed his lead. “We welcome you to my tent, Eldest Elder Singer,” Simus said.

“You honor me,” Essa said, his voice rich and strong. He walked forward, and four warriors followed him within. “Rise, please, all of you.”

Simus rose, and vacated his seat, gesturing for Essa to sit in his place. He stepped down off the platform to join the others, and they all seated themselves before the Eldest Elder.

Essa settled himself on the seat, his escort arranged around him, and waved off kavage. “Simus of the Hawk, as candidate for Warlord, I bring you word that I have called for the Gathering of the Council at the Heart of the Plains. The Council tent will be raised over the Heart. On that day, present yourself and ten of your strongest to aid the Council in this matter.”

Simus’s heart swelled, and started beating faster. It was here, finally, finally here. “My thanks, Eldest Elder. My warriors and I will present ourselves as you require.”

“Excellent,” Essa said.

Simus bowed his head.

There was a rustling, and then Elder Haya rose to her feet. “Eldest Elder Essa, I would ask for your token,” she said, her face wrinkled in a frown.

“Elder Thea Haya.” Essa gave her a nod of his head. One of his warriors produced a leather strip adorned with copper wires and small bells that gleamed in the light. The warrior handed it to Haya with a bow.

“You hold my token,” Essa said. “What truths would you interrupt me with?”

Simus exchanged a glance with Joden. That was not the tone one used to address an Elder.

Haya was not put off. She gave Essa a frown. “I do not understand how you can summon a Council—”

“As I do not understand the presence of your camp here during the Trials,” Essa said smoothly.

Haya continued. “The Spring Council is for Warriors, Singers, and Warrior-Priests. Wild Winds is not here—”

“He will be,” Essa said firmly.

“There is no Eldest Elder Warrior,” Haya pointed out. “After the Sundering last Fall.”

“There will be,” Essa responded. “One will be selected.”

“And last of my truths,” Haya said, her tone defiant. “The Eldest Elder Thea always attends the Spring Council, the sole voice of the theas. Reness is the Eldest Elder Thea. And Reness is not here nor has she sent word of her intent.”

“Then I would expect that you, as the only thea within the camp, to step into her place,” Essa said, raising an eyebrow. “As is traditional and appropriate and necessary.”

Haya’s mouth closed with a snap.

Simus would have laughed at her expression, but he had better sense. Weaponsmaster Seo had no such restraint, chuckling out loud.

“I thank you for your truths, Elder Haya,” Essa said. “If there is nothing further?”

Haya returned the token to the warrior, and sat down. Simus saw Seo poke her in the ribs and whisper something in her ear. Simus looked away, careful to control his own face.

Essa was not finished. “Tonight, if the rains clear, the drums will call all warriors to the Heart for the dancing. We shall gather as one before we divide into the armies of the Plains. Organize your watches accordingly.”

“Heyla,” Simus said, and clapped his hand on Yers’s shoulder. Yers grinned, and all the warriors around them exchanged smiles and laughter. Soon, the Trials would be at an end. Essa held up a hand, and the warriors went silent. “This ends my words for now,” he said. “But I would have further words with you, Simus of the Hawk. Under the bells.”

“Of course,” Simus said, and rose to his feet as he turned to face the group. “This senel is at an end,” he said, and the warriors arose, talking amongst themselves. “Yers,” Simus said, turning to his Second. “Stay and—”

“No,” Essa said from behind him.

Yers’s eyes widened. Simus went silent and looked back at the Eldest Elder.

“Clear the tent,” Essa said calmly. “Of all except for your Token-bearer and yourself.” Essa turned to look off to the side where Joden hovered, looking almost wary. “And you, Joden of the Hawk.” Essa pointed to one of the gurtle pads directly in front of him. “Sit.”

Joden obeyed and sat.

Yers gave Simus a worried look, but herded the other warriors out. Snowfall moved to close the flap, but Essa stopped her.

“My warriors will see to the bells. Sit.” Essa looked up at Simus. “You too,” he said.

Simus sat next to Joden, and Snowfall sat next to him. “This is my tent,” Simus said mildly, keeping his anger in check.

“Truth,” Essa said. He watched as his escort secured the tent flap, and wove bells into the ties. “But there are some truths that I wish to tell that are best not shared with all.” He raised an eyebrow, and fixed Joden with an imperious look. “You have been avoiding me,” he said.

Joden blinked and shook his head. “No, Eldest Elder. I was just waiting for the best time to—”

“A Singer must be impartial in all things,” Essa said, overriding Joden’s explanation. “A Singer’s word is above suspicion of any influence or taint. You understand this?”

“Yes, Eldest Elder.”

“Have you offered Simus your sword?” Essa demanded.