Warsong (Chronicles of the Warlands, #6)(83)

“To Xy?” Gilla asked.

“To Xy,” Lightning Strike confirmed.




Hanstau lay back on the bedding, staring at the tent over him, safe and warm and toes well and truly curled.

Reness was out by their fire braiding her hair. He turned his head enough to see the curve of her back and the glow of her skin in the firelight. As she moved, lifting muscular arms, he caught glimpses of her breast. It roused him, as it had in the past, and always would, he suspected.

At least, for as long as this lasted.

Reness had found a small herd, and they had stayed within their midst the past few days, hiding from the world. Hanstau knew he should return to Xy, and take word to his Queen of all that had happened. But his heart wanted to stay here, with this woman, in this bubble of time for as long as he could.

He tried to feel guilty. He really did.

But in all honor, they needed to travel more directly so that they could—

The golden glow of power appeared in the corner of his eye.

Hanstau turned his head toward it, away from Reness, to see the glow pooled beneath horses’ hooves. It couldn’t be true, but the light seemed to dance around them, deliberately, as if celebrating light and life and joy. Foolishness on his part, surely.

As if it noticed him watching, the light danced over and gathered around his fingers. He held them up, looking at the glow that surrounded his hands against the dark of the tent.

“You are playing with the light,” Reness said, crawling in beside him, and stretching out her long legs against his.

“How did you know?” he asked. “You can’t see it.”

“You get this look in your eyes,” she chuckled. “Like fleeing prey.”

“Er,” Hanstau huffed out a breath. “I’m not sure—”

“Like you are looking at something dangerous and fascinating at the same time,” she said. “Maybe like a child with its first real sword. Or—”

“Maybe you should stop there,” he said dryly.

She huffed a laugh.

“But you are right,” he said. “I am looking at something dangerous. I don’t think I should try to use it again.”

“Why?”

Hanstau frowned. His fingers still glowed. “Because.” he said slowly. “Because what I did back there, it felt loud. Obvious. Frightening.”

“You did the right thing,” Reness said. She eased up to pull their bedding over them.

“Yes,” Hanstau said. “I know that. But they were trying to kill you, and it was dire. My fear could have led me to do terrible things, Reness.”

“How is it terrible, when they are trying to kill you?” she asked with simple warrior logic.

“It is,” Hanstau said firmly. “And I am not going to try to use it again.”

“Unless someone tries to kill us.” Reness reached over to caress his cheek.

“Unless someone else tries to kill us,” Hanstau agreed.

Reness smiled against his lips and kissed him, driving away any need for talk.




Antas stood on a rise, and watched an army approach.

It had taken time and precious supplies to repair the damage, deal with the dead, and calm his warriors.

Ietha had also required careful handling, and he still wasn’t certain that she’d support him in the end. Antas flexed his fists. Talking with no action was starting to irritate him, and he knew if he lost his temper he’d lose support.

And now Reht approached, and all the messengers would say was that she wanted to talk. Reht was a short woman, short of stature, short of hair, short of temper. Antas wanted in the worst way to say exactly what he thought of that, but he kept his truths in his mouth and agreed to a meeting. He brought Veritt, his Second with him.

He could only hope it came to blows. Much more talk and he’d—

“Hail, Antas of the Boar, Warlord and Eldest Elder Warrior,” Reht rode forward, ahead of her warriors.

That boded well. Antas stepped forward and boomed his own greeting. “Hail, Reht of the Horse, Warlord of the Plains. What brings you here?”

“I’ve come to join with you,” Reht said. “I offer my support against Keir of the Cat.”

Antas grinned. “Welcome,” he said simply.





Chapter Twenty-Nine


Amyu slowly climbed the last remaining stairs of the highest tower of the castle, her heart as heavy as her footsteps. She went up through the trap door, stepping out into the sunlight and clean, clear air.

She walked to the low wall that surrounded the top of the tower, and with a puff of breath, tried not to look at what she dreaded to see.

The City of Water’s Fall stretched out below her, as it had in the past. Beyond that the fields and forests still sprawled out in the valley below. The long road still snaked down the valley from the main gates of the city.

Only this time, down that road marched the combined armies of Xy and the Plains.

Somewhere in their midst rode Joden of the Hawk.

The wind caught Amyu’s brown hair, whipping it around her head. She caught the long strands in her hands, and bound it up in a quick knot.

She hadn’t gone down to the castle courtyard to see them all off. It would have been more than her heart could take. Joden had honored her request, and he’d not come to her. Nor had she gone to him. She’d managed to avoid him as she’d aided the Warprize in preparations, thinking she’d done the right thing and yet—