Warsong (Chronicles of the Warlands, #6)(14)



Lara rolled her eyes. “You spar every day,” she said. “For the love of the Goddess, Amyu, go out and explore the city.”

Amyu’s hands stilled.

“Wander around and maybe check out the markets. I will give you coin to spend and—” the Warprize continued talking but Amyu’s head buzzed with an idea.

A day. She’d have an entire day. She could try again to have Kalisa, the old cheesemaker, tell her stories of airions. Maybe venture outside these stone walls and see the sky and feel the wind on her face.

She could head up into the mountains.

Not that she could get far, but she could take a small pack, with some basic supplies, just in case, she thought. Cache them for the future. A blanket, some dried— “Amyu?” The Warprize was frowning, trying to get her attention.

Amyu blinked, pulled from her thoughts. “Yes, Warprize?”

“So it’s settled then?” Lara asked. “You’ll go into the city tomorrow?”

“Aye,” she said.

“You could do me a favor, when you go,” Lara said. “I’ve jars of joint cream for my friend Kalisa. You know, the older woman who sells cheese in the market?”

“Yes,” Amyu said, trying to keep her excitement out of her voice.

“I haven’t had time to visit her,” Lara looked resigned. “I will have to make the effort. From your description, it sounds like she is fading. But take her the cream, and who knows? Maybe she will agree to tell you her stories of airions.”




She was out of the castle before dawn, her pack on her back and wearing her cloak.

The city was just stirring as Amyu walked the streets, but this time it didn’t seem quite so strange as the last. She knew where she was headed, and where the cheesemaker’s cart was usually found.

But when she arrived she was dismayed to find Kalisa’s son, Anser pushing the cart into place.

Just as dismayed as he was.

“Amyu,” Anser was polite, but there was a worry line between his eyes. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Amyu responded. “I’ve a rest day and I’ve come—”

“If you’ve come for Auntie’s stories, you have come for nothing,” Anser was firm. “She’s been in a foul mood since the last time you talked to her.” Anser shook his head. “But then, I hear tell that there are no old people on the Plains.”

“None so old as she,” Amyu confirmed.

“Well, you’ve no way of knowing that there’s no living with her when her temper’s up. And she’s having one of her bad spells. Her bones have been stiff these past few days.”

“The Queen sent these for her,” Amyu held out the basket with three jars.

Anser smiled then, relief in his eyes. “Well, that should help. Master Eln keeps her well supplied, but she swears that the cream from the Queen’s hands works better.” He took the bag. “My thanks,” he added.

“I also did come for the stories,” Amyu admitted.

“Afraid I can’t help you there,” Anser said. “I don’t know why she refuses to share them with you. Sun God knows, she repeats them to me and my nephews until we could recite them word for word.”

Amyu perked up. “You know them?”

“Well, it’s been a while since I really listened,” Anser chuckled ruefully. “I’ve forgotten most of the details.” He busied his hands with his trade, but his eyes were thoughtful. “The boys, my sons, now, they will remember.”

“Do you think they would tell them to me?” Amyu asked.

“Don’t see why not,” Anser said slowly.

Amyu stood still, held her breath, afraid to hope.

Anser stood for a moment, looking out over the market square. “The wyverns killed two cows before they cleared from the skies.” He gave Amyu a thoughtful look, and then huffed. “Tell you what. I need to go out to the cheese house this day and take the boys their nooning. Mya, my wife, is terrified I will be eaten by wyverns even though Auntie has told her that they won’t return until late summer. You can come with me, yes? Keep watch, help with the loading and unloading. And you can talk to my sons. Who knows what you might learn?”

“Yes,” Amyu said. “Please.”

“Mya will be here to take over the trade in another hour or so. Return then, and I will take you with me.”

Amyu nodded, then darted off. She’d use her coin for some supplies, dried bread and maybe smoked meat, a cooking pot if she could afford such. She moved off into the crowd, planning.

Just in case.




To Amyu’s relief, Anser’s sons were more than willing to share their nooning and their stories. Nerith and Usek both shared their father’s strong looks.

“No skin off my nose to tell you her tales,” Nerith shrugged.

“Auntie won’t talk to her,” Anser was already seated, digging in the basket, handing out the thick sandwiches of ham and cheese. They settled under the shade of some trees, close to the crick that flowed down out of the mountain. The great doors to what they called the cheese barn were on the other side of the grass, and cows grazed nearby.

“It might anger her further,” Amyu settled her pack behind her, and took the cloth-wrapped sandwich Anser thrust at her with a nod of thanks.

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