Warsong (Chronicles of the Warlands, #6)(103)

Reness jerked her head around at those words.

“So I say this truth to you, Reness, Eldest Elder Thea, Warrior of the Plains and woman I love, I am sworn to you. Forever.”

Reness stared at him, her tears forgotten. “Those are ritual bonding words,” she whispered.

“Good,” Hanstau lifted his chin. “I got them right then. Now, I believe you have something to say to me?”

“Do,” she hesitated, her eyes wide with growing delight. “Do you know what they mean?”

“Yes,” Hanstau mock frowned at her. “Well?”

Reness’s smile was a pleasure to see, and her hands trembled as she reached for his. Damp and cold, and shaky, he took them into his grip. The golden sparkles surrounded both their hands.

“Hanstau of Xy, Healer, and man that I love, I say this truth to you. I am sworn to you.” Reness leaned in, and pressed her forehead to his. “Forever.”

Hanstau kissed her until they were both out of breath.

Reness broke away, chuckling. “This means your toes are mine,” she teased.

“Yes,” Hanstau. “My toes are yours, as yours are mine. But perhaps we could keep that under the bells.” He shook his head. “I must tell you that I am not fond of that ear thing your people do.”

“Your people wear rings?” Reness asked.

“Yes,” he said. “A nice plain gold band on the ring finger.” He splayed out his hand and pointed.

Reness leaned in, joy in her face and desire in her eyes. He could feel the heat of her body on his skin. “How do you feel about toe rings?” she asked slyly.




“So, you have had some time,” Heath, Warden of Xy said. “What have you learned?”

Amyu rose to her feet. They—the warrior-priests-in-training—had all agreed that she would speak for them.

Heath had called this senel at their camp, still close to where she had found the airions. The cows had been moved out, and she’d heard more than enough about the precious-bloodline-of-milk-cows to last her a lifetime. But Heath had soothed hurt feelings with bright coins, and other cows and sheep had been brought in to feed the airions.

So they had established their camp, and set about learning to fly.

They had all gathered around the main cook fire, with the airions around them, curled in sleep. The warcats were scattered about, apparently sleeping too, but Gilla kept a watchful eye on them. They could not resist trying to kill the airion’s tails whenever there was so much as a twitch.

Heath gave her an encouraging nod across the fire.

Amyu took a breath, and began. “Flying is not as easy as it looks,” she said. “Even with the saddles you brought us, it requires power to stay on the airion. The saddles help, especially if one loses their concentration.” She glanced at Cadr.

“I tried,” he offered. “On a horse, keeping one’s balance is easy. But airions,” he put out a hand and dipped it around in the air. “They do not stay level to the ground.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Amyu continued, “There are other risks to being buckled in too tight, or having a girth snap. Too easy to tumble right off, and while they try to aid us,” she gestured toward the golden airion. “You can fall far in a short time.”

Heath frowned. “And if you were fighting wyverns?”

“That’s another problem.” Lightning Strike leaned forward. “Fighting on a horse there is only what is around you and under you. But with these creatures, there is also up.” He shook his head. “We have had some near misses.”

“But up is an advantage,” Amyu pointed out. “And we can use the sun to our aid.”

“How?” Heath asked.

The entire group started talking then, using their hands to try to describe moving through the sky, using the sun to blind the enemy.

Heath nodded. “I think I understand. What other problems?”

“Throwing a lance in mid-air,” Amyu said. “We have tried using trees and stones as targets, and it is much different.”

“And yet?” Heath asked, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“It is wonderful,” Amyu said, still amazed at what the sky offered. “Dangerous and wonderful.”

Heath nodded. “I am having more saddles made, and Atira is creating more lances. Do not rush this,” he cautioned. “You are all of us that use the power. We will need you all.”

“No,” Amyu said, catching Heath by surprise. “We need to rush this. To push ourselves.”

“Why?” Heath asked.

“We don’t know,” Lightning Storm said “But we all feel this sense of dread. That we will be… are… needed.”

“But you can’t tell me why?” Heath asked.

“It could be the wyverns,” Lightning Storm suggested, but he looked at Amyu.

“I fear for Joden,” she admitted. “Like sensing a storm on the horizon.”

Sidian stirred by the fire. “We’ve no skill at augury,” he admitted. “But both I and Mage feel it too. We have scryed the Heart, and nothing has changed. The wyverns seem only intent on feeding their young.”

Heath stared into the fire, then looked up. “Continue to train. Go at the pace you feel best, but try not to take unnecessary risks.” He rose to his feet. “I end this senel. The watches are set. Let us seek our beds.”