Warsong (Chronicles of the Warlands, #6)(107)

Essa nodded. “It has ever been the way of the Plains to use the strength of a warrior’s weapon to support their truths.”

Essa looked coolly at Antas. “The death of one of you ends this conflict,” he said. He turned his gaze to Keir. “The death of armies wastes the lives. Quartis and the others will prepare the challenge circle. My Singers will ride to your respective armies and warn them of what is to happen. Warn them also not to interfere. A trial to the death needs no Singer to judge. But we will witness.”

Simus pulled Keir away. “A word,” he said.

Keir moved, and Joden found himself eye-to-eye with Essa.

“Joden?”

All the Singers stopped in their tracks, and stared, rendered speechless. Joden would have laughed, but there was no humor here.

“E-e-eldest E-e-elder E-e-essa,” Joden let him have the full truth of his voice.

Essa’s eyes bugged out for a moment, but then they narrowed into slits. He opened his mouth, and then snapped it closed, as if remembering his audience. “We have Singer matters to speak on, after this,” Essa said.

Joden bowed his head, and followed Keir and Simus. The other Singers dashed to their horses, and started off with their messages. Quartis started cutting the sod to create the circle. Joden glanced back to see Antas and Veritt in a whispered discussion as Ietha stood off, calmly watching. Essa stood where he had been, looking aloof. But as Joden walked to his friends, he could feel Essa’s glare on the back of his neck.

“What are you thinking?” Simus asked Keir in hushed tones. “You risk everything.”

“The skies favor the bold,” Keir said calmly, reaching for the waterskin on his saddle.

“Lara is going to kill you, if he doesn’t,” Simus pointed out.

Keir drank, then glanced up at the keep. It was too distant to make out anyone, but Joden was sure Lara was watching. “Best if this is over before she knows she needs to worry,” Keir said. He turned back to glare at Antas. “I will kill him and end this.”

“You’re good,” Simus said. “But he is, or was, the Eldest Elder Warrior.”

“I fear treachery,” Joden sang softly.

Keir fixed him with a stare. “Do you have a vision of this? One way or another?”

Joden shook his head.

Keir nodded in satisfaction. “Simus, leave. If I fall—”

“I am not leaving,” Simus said. “Don’t die.”

Keir grinned. “I won’t.”




The circle finished, both Keir and Antas stepped into the circle and wasted no time. Keir, with his two curved swords. Antas, with sword and shield.

Antas moved fast, to block and swing. But Keir leapt to one side, and slashed hard, cutting Antas below the eye. Blood dripped down into Antas’s blond beard. He roared his anger.

Keir grinned, took a stance, and waited for the charge. Keir’s swords thudded on Antas’s shield. The air whispered as Antas’s blade failed to hit.

It was brutal, which was exactly as expected. Two warriors evenly matched as far as Joden knew. Antas was older and experienced; Keir was younger and stronger. They both hated each other with a passion, and Joden could feel it in their blows. Any outcome was possible.

Joden watched, holding his breath, transfixed as the two circled on another, looking for an opening. But a slight movement, caught his eye. Veritt, Antas’s Second had shifted his stance, his arms folded over his chest. Joden looked away, but something felt… wrong.

Joden focused on Veritt.

Antas’s Second was a troubled man if ever Joden saw one. The signs were subtle, but they were there. Twitchy, shifting weight, watching the fight with a desperation that made little sense.

“Ha,” Antas shouted. Joden looked back as he scored a blow on Keir’s arm, drawing blood. Keir never stopped, just charged in with a flurry of strikes against Antas’s shield, forcing him back.

Essa and the other Singers watched, their faces neutral. Simus and Ietha were stoic as well, arms crossed as unconscious mirrors of each other. Joden gave them a glance, then stared back at Veritt.

Who was looking at the piles of sod beside him.

The sounds of the continued fight filled the air, the sounds of two men locked in deadly combat.

But Joden kept his eyes on Veritt and waited.

Veritt looked up, and Joden caught his eye. Veritt met them for a second, and then flicked past to look at Antas.

Joden didn’t look away. He waited.

The fight raged on, with the sounds of scuffling feet, the ringing of sword on sword, and the clang of blows on the shield. Antas’s breathing grew ragged as the fight went on. Keir was silent, but Joden knew his friend’s entire focus was on killing his enemy.

Joden watched Veritt, who glanced at him every now and then. Joden made sure the man knew that his eyes were on him every time he looked Joden’s way. Joden didn’t look with hate, didn’t glare or threaten.

But he was watching.

Veritt’s glances grew more frequent as the fight went on. Joden kept staring. Veritt’s nervousness seemed to grow, and then oddly he stilled, staring at the earth.

Joden didn’t dare look away, although the sounds of the fight were changing. Antas seemed to be retreating, catching his breath behind his shield. Keir was having none of that, if the blows to the shield were any measure.