WarDance (Chronicles of the Warlands #5)(78)

And still he laughed at his own blindness, and the realization that filled his heart.

“Warlord, are you well?” Snowfall asked. She glanced toward the thea tents. “I could fetch Hanstau. I think he is with Haya—”

“I love you,” Simus said.





Chapter Thirty-One


Once again Amyu found herself pressed against a wall within the Council Chamber of Water’s Fall. This time she stood behind Archpriest Iian’s chair, her arms filled with his books and scrolls. She’d offered to aid him, and the Warprize had smiled and nodded. But Amyu had another purpose for this morning meeting and she quivered to tell it. But not now. Not yet.

The room was stifling with clusters of candles burning on the table and mantle. The large tapestry of the winged horse-eagle hung heavy against the wall, still and silent. As if waiting.

Amyu forced herself to look away, and still herself to patience.

Warlord Keir stood at the head of the table, never content to just sit. The Warprize sat beside him, her face tight and anxious. The Lords of the realm, and those that served, were crammed in tight, some seated, others standing along the walls.

“What do you mean, gone?” Keir asked.

Lord Marshal Warren answered. “The reports are coming in, the last from scouts well outside the walls. Over the last few days the wyverns had been gathering on the mountainsides, clinging to the rocks and hissing. Then they launched, all of them, and flew south.”

“All of them?”

“Like a cloud,” Warren confirmed. “I’ve had watchers on the Castle walls, and have sent scouts as far and wide as I dared. There are no sightings of the monsters, and no attacks.”

“Then perhaps we could open the shutters,” Lord Korvis said, mopping at his sweaty face with a cloth.

No one moved to do so.

“Let’s not take the risk just yet,” Keir said dryly. “How certain can we be?”

Warren shrugged. “It’s possible that they’ve hidden themselves in the wooded areas or caves. Only time will tell. But those that saw the flight said it was dark clouds of the beasts rolling down the valley.”

The Warprize caught her lip with her teeth, and made a soft noise of distress. When Keir glanced at her she looked at him with her fey blue eyes. “The Plains,” she said.

Keir jerked his head in a nod, but turned back to the table to scan those gathered. “We cannot be certain that they are gone, nor can we assume that they are gone forever.”

“I am fairly certain they are not,” Archpriest Iian spoke up, which caused a stir.

Amyu smiled slightly as he spoke. She could barely see his head over the back of the chair. But his words carried weight.

Iian stood and started to unroll a thick scroll of soft leather such as Amyu had never seen.

“Have a care with this,” he demanded. “It’s already split in places.”

“What’s this?” The Warprize craned her neck for a better look.

“The Sun’s Book of Days,” Iian said absently, gesturing for the Lord next to him to hold one end as he unrolled the other. “An ancient copy. The part I want you to see is—”

Everyone shifted slightly in order to see. Amyu pressed back against the wall. She had already seen. She’d already been convinced.

The Warlord was asking something of the Warprize and she was smiling at him as she answered. “A very old book of the Church of the God of the Sun, that sets out all the days of the year. It tells when to plant, when to harvest, sets out the holy days and festivals.”

“You track your days with words?” The Warlord shook his head in disbelief.

Amyu agreed, it was odd.

“Here,” Iian said finally. “Look. Each month begins with a picture.” His finger jabbed down but never touched the scroll. “Here, you see wyverns. In all other months, you see wyverns. But for the spring months, the months of late spring, early summer? No wyverns.”

“You think they will return, then?” Warren asked.

“Yes.” Iian was confident. “What’s worse,” he said as he rolled the scroll open further, “I think they return with their young.” Now he pointed down again, and necks craned, but Amyu had already seen the pictures of wyverns, large and small.

The Warprize frowned. “Iian, for such an event, wouldn’t the litany have been more specific? There is no mention of the wyverns in the words, is there? Certainly none in the versions I have read.”

“There’s no mention of the dawn or dusk either,” Iian said. “Why repeat what all know? That the sun will come up and set again. That the wyverns will leave and return. The lack of words does not trouble me. The fact that they pictured the event? That does.”

“So you think they are gone?” Warren leaned forward. “And will return?”

Iian shrugged. “There may be stragglers. But yes, I think the wyverns have left, and will return.” He touched the symbol of his office. “With the Grace of the Sun Lord, after the harvest.”

“Amen,” was the whisper from many of the Xyians.

“We will not lower our guard,” Keir commanded. “Heath, what of the search for ballistas?”

“We found parts hidden in various tunnels,” Heath said. “But the leather and gut that held them together has dried and cracked. I have craftsmen working to reconstruct, but they need time.”