WarDance (Chronicles of the Warlands #5)(67)

“They dance?” Essa asked.

“Filthy city-dwellers do not dance.” Ietha of the Badger stood, and folded her arms. Big-chested, blonde, and glowering at Simus, her words rang out over the crowd.

Simus couldn’t figure out how Essa arranged that, but the challenge must be answered. “Yes, of course they dance,” he said. “They even have special places within their stone tents for dancing.”

“City-dwellers are nothing but prey to our hunt,” Ietha spat. “What need we to know of them?”

Her words were not echoed, and in the silence after Essa gave her a cool look.

Ietha sat down among her warriors.

Essa turned back to Simus. “And what patterns do they dance?” he asked, and his words were repeated.

“Patterns,” Simus scoffed. “Xyians use no patterns.” He waited as his words echoed around. “Better to show you,” Simus said. His heart skipped a beat in excitement, and on impulse he threw out his hand. “Snowfall,” he called. “Come and dance with me.”





Chapter Twenty-Seven


Snowfall looked at Simus’s outstretched hand, and then into his eyes.

With anyone else she’d suspect that they were trying to make her out to be a fool. She hadn’t danced since her days in the thea camps. He could make her stumble, show her lack of grace...

But Simus’s eye were filled with hope, anticipation, and that joy that seemed to underline his every breath.

When did she become so certain that she could trust him?

It was confusing and yet it stirred something within her in return. An answering joy. A hope.

She stood, walked to him, and took his hand.

A murmur rose from the crowd as word passed back among the warriors.

Simus’s hand was warm in hers, his hardened calluses rough against her fingers. She gripped his hand tightly as she drew closer. “Warrior-priestesses do not dance,” she said to him softly.

But soft or not, her words were echoed through the crowd. Snowfall glanced at Essa, suddenly wary.

Simus squeezed her hand, as if in reassurance, and gave her a smile. “You are not what you were,” Simus said ignoring the echoes of his own words to focus on her face. “Or so Wild Winds has told us. I will teach you.”

Snowfall raised an eyebrow.

“It’s simple,” Simus faced her. “Nothing so complicated as our patterns.” He seemed very conscious of the echo, taking the time to explain his movements for those that could not see. “So we face each other, but our bodies do not touch. To be respectable in Xy, one must keep one’s distance.”

Snowfall watched as he took a position before her.

“I take your right hand in my left hand,” Simus said, holding their joined hands together and out to the side. “And my right hand goes here,” and he reached for the middle of Snowfall’s back. His fingers brushed the warm flesh between her corselet and her trous.

Snowfall gasped, allowing the slightest intake of breath between her parted lips. His fingers seemed to burn her. Her tattoos rippled over her arms and shoulders as seeking more of his touch.

Simus’s gaze dropped, and his lips curved in a sly, satisfied, irritating smile.

“And my left hand?” Snowfall prompted.

“Goes on my upper arm,” Simus said. “Now we shift a bit so that we are off-center, so our knees and feet don’t knock together.”

Snowfall adjusted her position slightly, glancing down to see the positioning of their knees and feet. Simus glanced around, and she realized that some of the warriors around them were standing and mimicking their actions.

“Our arms act as a frame for our movements. Now count with me, and watch my feet,” Simus said. “You must step backward in an opposite motion.”

“Why must I step backward?” Snowfall demanded.

“Because you are the woman,” Simus said. “The males ‘lead’.”

“You lead by pushing me backward?” Snowfall asked, and laughter rose as her words echoed around them.

“Watch now,” Simus admonished. “Step forward, side-step, feet together, step forward, side-step, feet together.”

Snowfall put her head down, watching their feet.

“One, two, three,” Simus chanted. “One, two, three,” he said and then brought them to a stop. “Do you have it?” he asked, glancing over at Essa.

Snowfall looked up. “I think so—” she started.

Essa raised his hand, drums sounded—

Simus swept Snowfall off into the dance, swirling them both around the Heart.




Simus felt her gasp through his fingers rather than heard it, but other than a slight stumble at first, Snowfall flawlessly matched his movements. Simus waited until she was a bit more confident, then he started to move them about the Heart in a slow circle in time with the music.

For a moment it was as if they floated there on the Heart, the dark sky above reflected in the glitter of Snowfall’s eyes as she looked into his. Simus sighed with pleasure at the sight, and drew her closer. She felt good in his arms as they moved as one, the sweet scent of her skin filling his senses. He drew her closer—

Snowfall stopped the dance, and pushed him away. “You said that bodies do not touch,” she pointed out and he had to laugh as those words echoed around them. Laughter rose from the crowd.