Warsong (Chronicles of the Warlands, #6)(57)

Hanstau couldn’t see her eyes, but he could read the shame in the way she avoided Reness’s gaze. “But there is a lad missing from Elder Nancer’s camp. Nancer fears he has gone to Antas.”

“Or Hail Storm.” Reness shook her head.

“Come back with me,” the thea urged. “Join our camps. You would be welcome, and there is strength in our numbers.”

“No,” Reness said firmly. “I have other plans, plans that involve staying away from Antas. I have not yet decided which direction I will take.” She squared her shoulders. “Make it known to the other Elder theas that Wild Winds is dead.”

“Skies,” the woman breathed.

“There will be a Fall Council of Elders,” Reness said. “And I will be there.”

“As you say,” the woman said. “I will spread the word.” She looked up at the night sky. “I should be off. Antas hasn’t stirred from his camp, still dealing with the consequences of fires. You should not be pursued.”

“My thanks again for responding to my call.” Reness said.

“An honor, Eldest Elder,” the thea mounted. “May the elements be with you,” she added and rode off. Hanstau stayed where he was until Reness spoke.

“Come,” she said softly. “I will not be easy until we put some more distance between us and Antas.” She knelt at his side, frowning.

“In the dark?” Hanstau heaved a sigh, eyeing the tall horses behind her.

“Not far,” Reness said. “A few rises, and we will keep the horses at a walk.”

Hanstau nodded and rose to his feet. Reness helped him mount, and wasn’t that shameful? But he didn’t even have the strength to be embarrassed.

They rode in silence, Reness leading the way, which left Hanstau alone with his thoughts.

Well, worries, really. About the golden light that had seemed willing to fry warriors like so many eggs. About how easy it would have been to do just that, in his anger and fear.

About whether Reness would still want him. It was easy enough to say in the confines of a prison but now? Here? Surrounded by handsome, muscular Plains warriors?

Hanstau looked up when he realized his horse had stopped moving. They were between two rises, next to a stand of alders.

Reness was already dismounting, and pulling the packs off her animal. “There’s a stream here,” she said softly. “Within this grove. We’ll set the tents, eat, and sleep.”

Hanstau fretted as they worked to make camp. He could help with the basics, carrying food and seeing to the horses. But he wasn’t much help with the small tent, even when Reness explained that it was actually two smaller tents combined into one.

She had him build a small fire as she finished. “Just enough for kavage,” she said.

Hanstau nodded, and set to work, finding the tinder and a striker. Easy enough to get a small spark, and sit and feed it tiny bits of wood and dried grass.

Reness settled next to him, and dug out a small pot, and some dried meat. She handed him a share, and for a long moment, they both sat in silence, chewing and waiting for the pot to boil.

“Give me your dagger,” Reness said softly. She was close enough to him that he could feel the heat of her body against his side. She took it, and tried to pull it from its sheath. The blade was stuck.

“Tsk,” Reness clucked. “You are supposed to clean it, you know. On the grass or the clothes of the enemy.”

“I’m sorry,” Hanstau sighed.

“No matter,” Reness stared at him. “I will clean it for you. But, Hanstau, what troubles you?”

Hanstau opened his mouth, but the pot favored him by boiling, and he managed to busy himself with the kavage. Once they were settled back, warm mugs in hand, Reness nudged his shoulder, and gave him a questioning look over the edge of her mug.

Hanstau sighed. “Reness,” he started, then rushed on. “I am no warrior. I am not muscled, not tanned, not strong. I am a stout, balding healer of Xy who, tonight, broke his sacred oath to bring harm to none.”

Reness leaned in closer. “He would have delivered you to Antas.”

“Or Hail Storm,” Hanstau shuddered. “But I could have found a way to—”

Reness kissed him. Her lips were warm, and soft, and wonderful. Hanstau closed his eyes, and kissed her back.

Reness broke the kiss. Her breath danced on his cheek. “You are who you are, Hanstau of Xy, and you are who I want. I have a need for you. A need to learn all of you.”

Hanstau opened his eyes, and stared into hers. Her eyes reflected the stars.

“Hanstau of Xy, would you share with me this night?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, his mouth dry.

“Good,” Reness’s smile was bright. “Now, take off those boots.”





Chapter Twenty


Antas was fond of the scent of death and smoke on the battlefield.

Just not in his own camp.

The sun was just rising, just enough to see. Smoke and stench filled his lungs as he stood with his Token-Bearer and his Second, and considered the damage. All around them his warriors sorted through smoldering tents, stomping the few flames that remained.

Antas knew that every eye watched and every ear listened.

“Report,” he commanded softly.