Warsong (Chronicles of the Warlands, #6)(60)

It had been years since his Trial as a Singer. Quartis only had a vague memory of the Ancients when they had blessed him. The tent was as dark and hot as he remembered, and the three old figures wrapped in blankets had not changed.

Essa marched up to stand in front of them, and glared. “What?” he demanded. “It’s not enough you have cost me a fine, potential—”

“Where is Joden of the Hawk?” Came a thin, quavering voice.

Essa gaped at them. “You don’t know?” he asked.

The Ancients stared at him with three sets of glittering eyes. Quartis felt the very air grow thick and oppressive.

“You don’t know,” Essa breathed.

The silence was deafening. Quartis’s heart pounded in his ears.

Essa folded his arms over his chest. “When we opened the grave, Joden was gone.”

“Dead?” this voice was a cackle. Wavering and uncertain to Quartis’s ears.

“We’d know,” a third voice said. “We’d know if he were—”

“Silence,” whispered the last voice.

“You are supposedly all powerful, all knowing,” Essa demanded. “And yet you—”

“Be gone,” the voices chorused, and with that Quartis found himself outside the tent, Essa at his side. Before he could even turn, he knew the tent was gone.

“What was that about?” he asked Essa.

“I have no idea,” Essa said. He glanced behind, snorted, and then started walking back to camp. “But my decision is made. We will fade into the grass, and stay safe and distant from any and all disputes. Except for you, Quartis.”

“Me?”

Essa nodded. “You, I am sending to the border of Xy. You will be my eyes and ears.”

“To watch for?” Quartis pressed.

“Whatever is to come.”





Chapter Twenty-One


Joden awoke to Amyu in his arms, the camp stirring around them.

Amyu was warm, cuddled close, her head under his chin. He breathed in the scent of her hair, as he blinked against the morning. Something smoky in the smell, carrying a hint of the grasses of the Plains and the open sky.

Rafe knelt by the fire, stirring up the coals. Joden caught his eye.

Rafe smiled. “Toasted bread with gurt, and some hot kavage before we start,” Rafe offered. “Then we will get you to Water’s Fall.”

“If he can ride,” Fylin said, setting flat bread to warm on the stones.

“He can ride,” Amyu said sharply. She moved in his arms and Joden released her with regret. She rose, tossing the blankets aside. Joden stood slowly, feeling every bruise, and started to fold blankets.

“We could load you up in that cheese wagon, and haul you to the city.” Rafe made the offer with a grin, his eyes sparkling as he nodded toward the wagon over by two big wooden doors.

Joden stopped what he was doing, narrowed his eyes and glared at Rafe.

Rafe laughed, and shrugged. “Just as well. I have no idea how you harness horses to it anyway.”

Amyu wore her leathers, and now stared at the mass of white cloth Joden had shed the night before. She frowned. “This is the worse for wear.” She glanced over at the wooden doors. “I wonder if there is anything in there we could use.”

Joden caught her eye, and tilted his head toward the doors with a lift of his brow.

“It’s where they store their cheese,” she explained. “Those saddles I told you about? They are in there as well.”

“Locked up tight,” Soar said as she brought out a sack of gurt. “Kalisa’s…” she paused, frowning. “Sons of sons?”

“Nephews.” Rafe said firmly. “They moved most of the herds to different grasses and locked up the barn. Not too happy, it seems.”

Amyu flushed bright red.

Joden stepped close, and took the white cloth from her hands. “W-w-we can m-m-make this work.” he said.

“Best not to shock the city-dwellers with naked Firelanders,” Rafe laughed. “At least, not this early in the morning!”




It felt good to be riding again. The feel of the horse under him, the reins in his hand, the wind on his face, it was all familiar and welcome to Joden.

Rafe had taken the lead and the other warriors had surrounded Joden. Amyu had dropped back, behind and to Joden’s right. He frowned at her, but she shook her head at him. He gave her a nod, and faced front. Now was not the time to make an issue of her status.

Not that he had the words to aid her, or argue in her defense.

The road ahead went through the trees, heading down to the valley before the City of Water’s Fall. Rafe had said it would take a few hours, and he kept them at a good pace.

Joden tried to focus on riding, and not on the meeting to come. While it would be good to see Lara and Keir again, whether Master Eln or Lara could heal his affliction was not something he wanted to think about.

Had the winds done this? Joden strived to remember. He’d asked to take the old paths. He could remember singing to the others, dancing in the ring of earth. But the memories grew hazy and faint, until there was a blank in his mind. Joden shook his head, as if the motion would restore lost thoughts. He’d never felt this before, being unable to recall. It was a terrible, empty feeling and— “Finally,” Rafe called out ahead. “I can see the walls.”