Warsong (Chronicles of the Warlands, #6)(73)

Joden slipped out as Lara stepped forward to make her farewells, with soft words and hugs. Amyu was waiting down the hall. They went out together into the morning air.

The cooler air felt good, but Joden was far more concerned with Amyu. Her face was pained, her eyes anxious. “She hated me,” she said. “How can someone hate like that?”

Joden wrapped an arm around her, offering as much comfort as he could. Amyu leaned into him and put her head on his shoulder.

Keir was a step away, leaning against the outer wall of the building, his arms folded over his chest. “Uppor,” he said. “She knew Uppor? Uppor the Trickster of the Plains?”

Joden nodded.

Amyu looked up, wide eyed. “So old,” she said. “Did her hate build over all those years? Such that she took her secrets to the snows? Did her hate blind her so to our need?”

“And you can see the power?” Keir’s voice was flat and abrupt. “Like a warrior-priest?”

Amyu stiffened in Joden’s arms, then stepped away to face Keir. “I do see the power,” she lifted her chin. “I do not know how to use it, or what it means, but yes. I see it. That does not make me a warrior-priest.”

Keir’s eyes were dark and brooding. He glanced at Joden, then looked down at his boots.

Joden tilted his head slightly. Amyu nodded, and stepped back. “I’ll see to the horses,” she said, and walked off.

Joden waited, looking at Keir, who hadn’t moved, his arms crossed over his chest.

Joden shifted then to take the same position next to his friend.

Keir looked up.

Joden raised his eyebrows.

Keir shook his head. “Her hate was so real,” he said quietly. “She was striking to kill, Joden.”

Joden nodded.

“Keekai once told me that blind hatred of the warrior-priests is a dangerous thing,” Keir added with a rueful shrug. “Well, more than once.”

Joden snorted, remembering the Elder in question.

“And now our children may be touched by—” Keir paused and seemed to swallow hard. “They may be warrior-priests, Joden. I do not know what to think. What to do.”

“I do.” There was a rustle at the door as Lara emerged. She walked to Keir’s side. “We figure this out,” she held up her hand. “Together.”

Keir straightened away from the wall, and put his hand to hers. They laced their fingers together, tight. “Together.” He nodded, his voice strong.

Lara leaned into him for a hug. “I feel so tired. As if drained of all life and hope.”

Keir wrapped his arms around her, and Lara put her head on his chest as she continued, “I knew her all my life, and yet I didn’t really know her at all.”

“Come,” Keir said as Amyu walked up leading the horses. “Let’s return to the castle.”




Amyu thought the Warprize looked exhausted when they reached the main doors of the castle.

The Warlord looked haunted.

The Warprize lifted her eyes up the spiral staircase with a sigh, and put a foot on the first step. “Let me,” the Warlord said, and swept her up into her arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and put her head on his shoulder.

They were silent as they climbed the stairs to the floor of the royal chambers. The Warlord turned as they reached the doors to their rooms chambers, the Warprize already asleep in his arms. Marcus had opened the doors, and stood waiting.

“I want to think on this,” Keir said quietly to Joden. “Let us talk in the morning. There is much to consider.”

Joden nodded.

Amyu hesitated, but Marcus let the Warlord enter and then caught her eye. “See to him,” Marcus said jerking his head toward Joden. “Return to your duties at the nooning.”

She bowed her head in obedience as Marcus closed the door.

Joden gave her a soft smile, and then yawned. She shook her head, took his arm, and they walked together toward his small chamber.

It was as they had left it. Rumpled bed, blankets tossed on the floor. The fire had burned down and the air was chilled.

Amyu knelt, stirred the coals, and added tinder, waiting for the flames to catch. She could hear Joden moving behind her, removing armor, climbing into bed.

The fire crackled and she added a few logs, careful not to extinguish the flame, knowing full well she was stalling. She wasn’t sure if he’d want her to stay; she wasn’t sure she should if he did. The events of the night had whipped her hard. She ached from the cold, the fear, and emotions that had been poured over her head.

Finally, she rose, and turned. He was naked, seated on the side of the bed, the blankets half over his legs. He looked up at her with tired, brown eyes.

She took a few steps forward, close enough to catch the scent of his skin. “Do you need anything?” she asked, expecting kavage or gurt as his request.

“Y-y-you,” Joden said, taking her hand.





Chapter Twenty-Six


Joden didn’t know if Amyu was aware of the tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked so tired and so defeated. “Seer,” she said, her voice a cracked whisper. “She called you a Seer. What does that even mean?”

Joden put his hands on her hips, and tugged. Amyu stepped closer, between his legs and put her hands on his shoulders.