Warsong (Chronicles of the Warlands, #6)(65)

“Kayla had just started to fuss,” Keir was telling Lara as they walked. “Keirson is with the wet nurse.”

“We can eat and talk in our chambers,” Lara said. She glanced back at Joden. “Privately. Joden has much to tell us.”

And no words to tell you with, Joden thought.




Marcus waited for them in the chambers. He allowed Keir and Lara to pass, and Joden. Amyu was not surprised when he blocked her way. “We will talk later about the pain you have caused Herself,” he growled.

Amyu nodded.

Marcus huffed, allowed her in, then blocked Rafe and Prest. “Herself is about, feeding,” he announced. “Go about your own work.”

The Warprize may have adopted many of the ways of the Plains, but she was still of Xy.

The wet nurse was already in one corner nursing Keirson, but that was acceptable. “She does not speak the language of the Plains,” Lara said, avoiding the Xyian tongue. She settled in one of the chairs before the hearth where a small fire burned, just enough to take the chill from the stone.

These chambers had not changed, and yet it felt strange to Amyu. Different. But her real focus was Joden. She stepped forward, and saw to it that he settled in one of the more comfortable chairs, facing the Warlord and Warprize.

The Warlord leaned forward, his blue eyes intent. “Joden, how do I come to find you in Xy?”

“Amyu,” Marcus jerked his head at her. “Aid me with the nooning.”

“No,” Amyu stood by the arm of Joden’s chair.

All three looked at her in astonishment.

“At least,” she amended. “Not yet. I will tell the beginning of the tale from my truth. Joden can speak after he has eaten.”

There was a clatter at the door, of servants and dishes. The smell made Amyu’s mouth water.

Keir leaned back in his chair. “As you say,” he said mildly. “Tell me your truths.”

Amyu took a breath, and felt the slightest pressure of Joden’s hand against her hip. The smallest of things, but it gave her confidence.

“I went into the mountains, searching for airions,” Amyu started, using the same words she had given to Master Eln and the Warprize. But this time she left nothing out, about the caves, and the animal attack, and almost giving up until she saw a flutter of white and heard a snatch of song.

Lara rose to trade babes with the wet nurse. “You heard singing? Coming from Joden?”

She returned to her chair with Keirson in her arms, and put him to her shoulder, patting his back. “Are you sure?”

Amyu shrugged. “He was unconscious when I found him, Warprize.” She continued to describe his condition and the actions she had taken. She told of Joden walking toward the edge, but didn’t mention the visions. That was Joden’s part of the tale to tell.

She kept an eye on Joden as she talked, making sure he ate and drank as he listened, occasionally nodding his agreement.

Once she was sure he’d eaten his fill, she wrapped up the tale with meeting Rafe and the others.

Marcus shoved a plate at her, with a mug of kavage.

“Joden?” Keir leaned forward. “How did you get there from the Plains?”




He’d dreaded this.

Joden took a sip of kavage, and then stared down into it. Whatever else he was, he was no coward.

The babe in Lara’s arms started waving his fists around. Lara moved her face away, avoiding those tiny hands.

Joden smiled at Lara. “Th-th-the T-t-tribe h-h-has g-g-grown. Th-th-the t-t-tribe h-h-has f-f-f-” he closed his eyes, and screwed up his face. “F-f-f-lourished.”

Lara returned the smile a thousandfold.

Joden lifted his head, and looked Keir in the eye.

“I-I-I,” he paused and took a breath, fighting panic. How was he going to—

Amyu settled down on the floor with her meal, just in front of his chair. She leaned back slightly, putting pressure against his leg. With no other obvious sign of support, she started eating.

Joden puffed out that breath and tried again. “T-t-the T-t-trials of S-s-singer,” he forced out. “I ch-ch-chose an old path.”

There was a flicker of pained sympathy over Keir’s face, but then he settled back in his chair and waited.

Joden frowned, more to himself than anything, trying to decide what to say. “I-I-I c-c-cannot tell all. B-b-but the winds t-t-took me wh-wh-where they w-w-willed.”

Marcus had taken Kayla into his arms, and the wet nurse slipped out the door. He brought the babe to Keir, who took her with a smile of thanks. Kayla was fussing, and Keir put her to his shoulder and drummed her back softly.

“And Simus? When did you leave him?” Keir asked.

Joden struggled on, telling of Simus’s trials and Snowfall’s appearance. It took what felt like hours, but he didn’t give up. Keir had to know, and had to hear it from Joden.

“Y-y-yers w-w-wrong,” Joden said finally. His head was pounding, and his neck and shoulders ached with the strain of trying to speak. He was tired and frustrated, but his truth needed to be said. “S-s-simus is l-l-loyal t-t-to y-y-you.”

Keir stood, taking the babe to a cradle nearby. His face was grim, his silence speaking more than words.

Keirson started to cry as Lara rose. “This boy,” she said, shaking her head. “I swear he hates to sleep. Like he might miss something.” She rocked him for a bit until he settled, then put him in the cradle next to his sister.