WarDance (Chronicles of the Warlands #5)(75)

Simus finished pulling on his trous and stomped into his boots. “Where is she?”

“Elder Haya?” Elois couldn’t resist asking.

“Snowfall,” came the growl as Simus finished dressing.

Elois dropped her eyes and her teasing tone. “I do not know, Warlord,” she said. “She showed me how your tent was set up, told me you like your kavage strong, and left with her gear.” Elois raised her eyes then and gave him a narrow look. “As is the way of challenges, yes?”

“Yes.” Simus belted on his weapons.

Good, he wasn’t going to be difficult. One never knew with Warlords. “Tsor says to tell you that Yers is with the healer,” Elois said. “Yers is well enough, although he has not yet woken. The Council tent will be raised today, and Eldest Elder Essa has sent word that warriors should—”

She kept talking, even though she knew he wasn’t really listening. He was distracted, clearly.

“You need to eat something,” Elois finally gave up. “Since you aren’t hearing anything I say.”

“Uh,” Simus said. He took the mug she thrust in his face. He looked down at it like he’d never seen it before. “I need...I have to find...” Simus drew in a deep breath. “Do you think I am bewitched?” he demanded.

Elois looked at him seriously. “No, Warlord,” she replied. “But it is better for you and the army you lead that she is not Token-bearer. I am the better choice.”

The stunned look vanished from the Warlord’s eyes, replaced by a flash of heat. “That choice is mine to make,” he growled, raising the mug and draining it in a gulp.

Elois lowered her eyes and bowed her head. “Yes, Warlord.”

“Have Tsor gather the necessary warriors for the tent raising,” Simus commanded, taking a handful of gurt from the bowl. “I will return shortly.”

“Yes, Warlord.” Elois watched as the tent flap fell closed behind him. Only then did she let herself grin.

Tsor stuck his head in the tent. “The Warlord is headed for Essa’s tent.”

“Eldest Elder Essa’s tent,” Elois scolded. “If you would be Second, best you use his title at all times.”

“I will.” Tsor stepped in, eyeing the tray in her hands. “Is that kavage?”

Elois nodded. “We may as well eat. I doubt he will be back soon. He seeks Snowfall.”

“Not a surprise.” Tsor helped himself to the gurt, and let her pour him a mug of kavage. “Yers was wrong,” he said, his mouth full. “I agree with Simus that he needs to take the chances the winds send his way. Better to have her with us than not. Warlord Keir would be the first to understand that.”

“I hope so,” Elois sighed. “But I agree with you. Warlord Simus is one I can support.”

“That warrior-priestess challenges him,” Tsor smirked. “The first I’ve seen to resist his charms. He is not bewitched.”

“Oh, he is bewitched,” Elois laughed. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”




“I don’t think you appreciate how difficult this will be.” Eldest Elder Essa made a fine sight in his silk robes as he paced back and forth in the confines of his tent. Wild Winds took a moment to appreciate the sight as he scooped a bit more of the spiced gurtle into his flatbread and started eating.

“I am Eldest Elder Singer, but not all will heed my words.” Essa was glaring at the floor, talking with his hands. “They will also listen to the likes of Ietha, or take a neutral path until forced to decide otherwise. Yet the Warlords must be chosen, the armies must raid as they always have. Our truths may be enough to carry the day, but what of Nires? And where is Reness?”

To Wild Winds’s mind, silence seemed the best response.

“You took a risk, coming without escort. If you had gotten here earlier...” Essa turned, and his robes flared around him dramatically.

The spiced meat burned Wild Winds’s tongue and he grunted in appreciation. He hid his smile from Essa with a quick sip of kavage. Essa continued to scold. He waited for a break in the flow of abuse to venture a word. “I got here as soon as I could.”

“You and I are the only Eldest Elders—”

“I am no longer Eldest Elder,” Wild Winds pointed out.

“Stop that,” Essa scowled. “The Elders are gathering, true enough, but I am uncertain that Nires of the Boar will agree to remain as the Eldest Elder Warrior. And Reness is nowhere to be found. For all I know, she is still in Xy, seeing to the Warprize.”

Wild Winds raised an eyebrow. It was not like Essa to repeat himself.

Essa stopped pacing and scowled at Wilds Winds. “Hurry up with that. The warriors will be waiting, and the tent must be raised.”

As grateful as he was for Essa’s hospitality, Wild Winds wasn’t about to rush. His friend needed to work off some of that worry before he dealt with the day.

“Have you eaten?” he asked Essa.

The man shook his head as he paced. “Not hungry.”

“It would be well if you ate something,” Wild Winds suggested.

“I don’t see how we can—” Essa broke off at the sound of a commotion outside the tent. “What now?”

Essa’s guards were arguing with someone. “Eldest Elder,” one of the guards called. “Simus of the Hawk would speak with—”