WarDance (Chronicles of the Warlands #5)(68)

“Truth,” he said, standing there, feeling the loss of her in his arms.

“Again,” Essa demanded.

“This time,” Snowfall said, grabbing his right hand, “I lead.”

Laughter rose at her words, but Simus willingly conceded control to her, only to discover how hard it was to move backward with any grace. But he only stumbled a bit before he caught on. Snowfall lead him in a graceful swirl around the Heart.

“The male always leads?” Snowfall asked. She had a look of concentration as she led him through the dance.

“Yes,” Simus smiled at her. “It is the way of Xy.”

“Foolishness,” Snowfall said sharply.

Simus shrugged. “It is their way.” He grinned at her. “Besides, there is a practical reason.” He stopped dancing and the music stopped. “Xyians do not dance alone,” Simus called out. “They would fill the entire Heart. Who will join us?”

Yers jumped up, holding his hand out to pull a protesting Elois to her feet. Other couples ran forward as well, not all from his people, Simus was glad to see.

“What is the pattern?” Essa called, for he had joined the dancers with a partner.

“There is none,” Simus said.

“How do they avoid running into one another?” a warrior called.

“I don’t know,” Simus laughed. “They usually just got out of my way.”

The drums sounded again, and the couples started to dance.

Snowfall lead again, and it was a struggle. “Ah, I see,” she said. “The male leads because it’s easier for the taller partner to watch for obstacles. That makes more sense.”

Simus nodded. “It requires an awareness of the enemy, for the one who leads watches. If I may?” he asked, and they reversed their hands, and swirled with the music.

Soon it seemed that all the warriors were dancing, except a few old fools Simus saw glowering at him. But he paid no attention. He had the lovely Snowfall in his arms, and the very skies seemed to sparkle in approval.

He glanced out over the crowd, at the warriors dancing on the Heart and around it. “What would it be like, if we could get them all dancing?”

He heard a soft, short, snort of a laugh, and looked down quickly. But Snowfall’s face was calm and serene. “Did you just laugh?” he asked.

“Of course not,” she replied. “Warrior-priestesses do not laugh.”

Simus rolled his eyes at her, and swirled them around again.

Essa raised his hand and the music speeded up, the drums pounding faster. Around and around they danced, Simus watching carefully to keep them from a collision. But it was inevitable, and three couples spilled off the Heart on to the grass, laughing as they struggled up from an untidy heap.

“Enough,” cried Essa. “Let us see a pattern.”

The Heart cleared to allow the more traditional dancers to perform.

Simus walked back to his people, joined by Yers and Elois, both laughing as they settled back down. Snowfall took her place beside him. Someone passed forward skins of fermented mare’s milk, but Simus waved them away. He was content, with his people around him, the stars above, and pattern dances that would go late into the night.

And if Snowfall was looking at him with a new light in the depths of her eyes, well, he would count that a win as well.




Snowfall felt breathless as she took her place beside Simus. She could still feel the tingle on her palm and her waist from his touch. She drew deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. But it didn’t help that she could still smell him, a mixture of metal, leather, sword oil, and sweat. She bit her inner lip, and set about to calm her mind and body.

It was interesting, to watch him interact with his people, with Yers and Elois. He was still scanning the crowd as well; looking for Joden no doubt. The man had a deep sense of loyalty to his own.

Was that what made her trust him?

She fully expected the invitations he received, from warriors that asked him to join in their patterns. But he declined all of them with a friendly laugh and a smile. He even refused to join Yers in a battle dance.

She said nothing, but after a while, he caught her gaze and chuckled. “You wonder that I do not dance?”

She gave him the slightest of nods.

He faced forward. “The other Warlord candidates are not dancing either.”

She casually looked around, and searched her memory of the night. “They have not,” she confirmed.

“Not stupid enough to get themselves hurt dancing. We of the Plains do everything with abandon, and to risk injury so close to the end of the Trials is foolhardy,” Simus pointed out. “A pulled muscle, a sprain, could make all the difference tomorrow.”

“Ah,” Snowfall said.

“Besides, you can learn a great deal about a warrior by how they dance a pattern.” Simus gave her another smile, his eyes warm. “And I would deprive them of that knowledge.”

Snowfall glanced over to where Ietha was talking to Nires. Wyrik stood with them, glaring at Simus. “A good point,” she said softly.

“Praise?” Simus straightened, and placed his hand over his heart. “My dear Token-bearer, I—”

“Enough.” Essa was standing in the middle of the Heart, and once again his words were being echoed. “Let the drums go silent and the dancing end. Seek your beds. The morrow brings the final challenges.”