WarDance (Chronicles of the Warlands #5)(76)

“WILD WINDS,” came a roar from outside the tent.

“Let him in,” Essa called and with that the tent flap blew open as if the winds themselves demanded entrance.

Simus of the Hawk stood there, chest heaving, eyes flashing. “Where is she?”

Wild Winds raised an eyebrow and took another bite.

“Where is who?” Essa asked, clearly irritated. “Having survived your Trials, shouldn’t you be gathering your warriors for the raising of the tent?”

Simus only had eyes for Wild Winds, and his glare was dagger-sharp. He took a step closer, to tower over him. “Where is she?”

Wild Winds took a drink of kavage, and raised an eyebrow at the warrior. “Who?”

“Snowfall,” Simus grated out. “She lost a challenge as Token-bearer. Where is she?”

Wild Winds studied the tall, dark man before him, breathing fast and clearly agitated.

Interesting.

“I do not know,” he said calmly. “Why would you expect to find her here?”

“You were her mentor,” Simus said. “She would—”

“Did she not swear her sword-oath to you?” Wild Winds asked.

“Yes, but—”

“And when a warrior swears a sword-oath, and loses a challenge, that warrior is still oath bound to your service, yes?” Wild Winds asked.

“Yes, but—”

“You have not released her from her oath, yes?” Wild Winds said.

“Yes. No.” Simus stumbled through his words. “I mean that I have not released—”

“Then her proper place is in your army, serving the duties of a warrior,” Wild Winds said. “Yes?”

Simus looked stunned. “Yes.”

“Then why would you think to find her here?”

Simus stared at him, blinked, spun on his heel and left the tent.

“Were we ever that young and stupid?” Essa mused.

“You are not so old that you have forgotten those feelings,” Wild Winds chuckled, and reached for the bowl of gurt.

“Aren’t you done eating yet?” Essa huffed out a sigh and sat on the gurtle pad next to Wild Winds. He reached for the flatbread and spiced meat. “Still, I expected him to ask after Joden.”

“Ah.” Wild Winds smiled as he poured them both more kavage. “I think his mind is on other things.”




“What kind of sloppy sword-work is that,” Destal bellowed at the two warriors sparring before her. “Ouse, keep your blade up. Lander, don’t just wave your dagger around like a stick. It has a point. Use it.”

Both young warriors were circling each other, swords and daggers at the ready. Destal snorted at that idea of ‘ready’. Both of them fresh from the thea camps and it showed. She’d have to give them other partners. They might be free to share bodies and tents, but not bad habits. They’d improve if they had to fight others.

She caught a glimpse of the Warlord coming, stomping through the tents, looking riled up and irritated. Elements, but he looked to be in a mood, a rare thing for her Warlord.

“Where is Snowfall?” the Warlord demanded.

Ouse and Lander had stopped their sparring, staring at the Warlord.

“Here now,” Destal commanded. “Who told you to stop?” When the young ones resumed their clash she continued. “She’s been assigned duties, as any young warrior would be.”

“What duties?” The Warlord was looking about, clearly seeking the warrior out.

“Collecting fuel for the fires,” Destal said, and didn’t blink when the Warlord flashed her a glare. “As all young warriors do,” she reminded him. “I’ll give her this much, there was no complaint out of her.”

“Where?” came the growl.

“At the farthest edge of the gurtle and horse herds, behind the thea tents,” Destal said. “You’ll need a horse.” She looked over to where a group of older warriors were preparing for their scouting run. One had a horse ready, saddled and equipped with lances. “Here, Amer,” she called. “Give the Warlord your horse.”

Amer came and handed over the reins. The Warlord mounted. “I’ll be back soon,” he said, and started off at a trot.

Destal waited until he was out of earshot. “Might want to get another saddle out of supplies, Amer.”

“You think he might be a while?” Amer asked, shading his eyes to watch the Warlord gallop off.

“Aye,” Destal said. “I’m thinking he might.”




The horse was fast; Simus urged it to go faster.

She’d be at the edge of the herds, more than like, well beyond the thea tents. If he circled the thea camp, he was sure to see her. The idea that he might not had his heart beating faster in his chest.

The morning sun inched up, the air cool and still. The herds were quiet, the horses concentrating on grazing, occasionally lifting their heads to watch him ride past. Another rise and he spotted the first of the gurtle herds, grazing steadily toward him.

He pulled his horse to a stop, patting its neck as it huffed at him, restive and ready to go. He scanned the area looking for any signs of humans.

“Muwapp.”

Simus turned his head to see a gurtle coming closer. Mounted on its back was a young girl, her hair pulled back and high on her head. He recognized her at once.