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Warlord
  • Текст добавлен: 8 сентября 2016, 22:58

Текст книги "Warlord"


Автор книги: Elizabeth A. Vaughan



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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Chapter 3

“Ehats?”

Keir bounced up immediately and I was right behind. I’d heard so much about these animals, I couldn’t wait to see one. The closest I’d come was when the warriors had stomped around the living chess board, pretending to be ehats. I stuffed my journal in my satchel, took Keir’s hand, and let him pull me through the grass.

Marcus was before our tent with a scout and Tant. Others were gathering, drawn by the news. The scout and Tant were both grinning like fools as Keir strode up. “Ehats?” Keir asked again.

The scout’s smile grew broader. “Four ehats, Warlord.”

Keir stopped, stunned. Then his face hardened. “You lie.”

I sucked in a breath at the insult, since there’d been no exchange of tokens. But the scout merely threw his head back and laughed. “I knew those would be your words, and can’t fault you, Warlord. But may the skies and the earth witness that I speak true. Four ehats, young males, away from the herd, unmated and qualified for hunting.”

Everyone stood there, stunned.

“Four ehats, Warlord.” The scout patiently repeated himself. “As many as the elements themselves, and upwind of the camp.” He paused for effect. “At least, for the moment.”

“Four,” breathed Keir. “A gift from the elements.”

“Or a challenge.” Joden spoke from behind us.

“Either way, it’s one I will take.” Keir looked back at the scout. “If this is true, I’ll honor you with first meats. If false, I’ll kill you with my own hands.”

“Done,” the scout responded, still grinning. “Know that you will gift the first meats to Lail of the Badger.”

“Summon the warleaders, but use no cries,” Keir ordered.

Warriors ran off, in every direction.

“We’ll need musk teams and kill teams, ten members each,” Keir snapped out. “Marcus, gather what we need for the musk teams, four in all.” With a nod Marcus disappeared to do his bidding.

“You’ll try for them all?” Joden demanded.

Keir gave him a defiant look. “The skies favor the bold, Joden.” Keir turned to face me, then looked back over his shoulder. “Besides, you need something to sing of, yes?”

Only I saw the look of shock on Joden’s face.

Keir faced me, his eyes alight. “An ehat hunt, Lara. It’s rare enough to find two, but four is unheard of. We will try to take all of them, together.”

“It’s dangerous, isn’t it?” I asked, stepping closer.

The warleaders were coming from all across the camp; I only had a moment to express my concern.

Keir drew me close, and lowered his voice. “Death comes in an instant, Lara. We both know that. But ehats are the finest meat on the Plains, and the leather, wool, everything down to the gut is valued for its use. Four ehats will fill the hands of all my warriors, and their hearts with the glory of the tale.”

I kissed him gently. “Have a care, my Warlord, for you carry my heart with you.”

I stepped back as Yers ran up, with Iften and Wesren right behind. The warleaders were gathered now, and Keir stepped forward. Yers smiled at him, with no hesitation. “Four ehats, Warlord? Simus will curse that he was not here.”

“Is this wise, Warlord?” Ortis asked, his voice carefully neutral. “To risk for all, when we could easily take one?”

“Perhaps we should let them go, to appease the elements,” Aret offered. She took one look at Keir’s face and hastily added, “In case we have offended.”

Sal snorted.

Iften stood, his arms crossed over his chest. “We are not worthy of this gift.”

Keir’s face was tight with anger, but he controlled it. “Our skill at the hunt will show our worth. Any who think they are unworthy,” he glared at Iften, “or have offended,” he moved his glare to Aret, “they are free to decline the hunt.” His upper lip curled. “They can chant for their evening meal.”

“I want fresh ehat, fresh from the fire.” Yers smacked his lips.

Keir laughed, nodding in agreement. “As is traditional, I will take the first musk team. Iften, if you would hunt, you may have the second. Yers—”

Iften interrupted. “I’d rather first kill.”

Keir raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You decline the honor?” At Iften’s nod, Keir wasted no more time. “Yers, you may have the second musk team.”

“An honor, Warlord.” Yers reached for the buckles of his armor and started to remove it.

“Ortis and Aret, if you would hunt, you may have third and fourth musk.” Ortis nodded, and handed his weapons to those around him. Aret paused, then shrugged, and started to remove her armor as well.

“Joden.” Keir started to unlace his leather. “I offer you second kill.”

This caused a bit of a stir, but Joden refused. “I must watch the hunt, Warlord, if I am to sing of it.”

“Then Sal, Uzaina, and Tsor, you have the honors. Choose your warriors well.”

They all nodded, and moved off, talking and sending runners off as well, apparently to summon warriors. Wesren stood silent for a moment, without an assignment. His face flushed, he turned toward Iften. That warrior-priest was there as well, handing something to Iften, who placed it in his mouth. I looked away before they could catch me staring.

Keir had dropped his leather armor in the grass, and started to pile his weapons on top. “Joden, would you keep watch over the Warprize during the hunt?”

“I will tend to Xylara,” Joden answered. “See to your own hide, Keir. Ehat horns know no difference between warlord and warrior.”

Keir nodded. “Rafe and Prest, would you ride with me?”

They both jerked in surprise, Prest’s eyes going wide. Rafe responded, “YES!” They both began to strip.

“Marcus! Where is that oil?” Keir called, having stripped down to his trous.

“Here.” Marcus led a pack horse close, and started handing out pots of a thick greenish paste. I grabbed one to look at. Keir took a handful from the pot I held and started rubbing it on his chest.

“What is this?” I asked, dipping my finger in and holding it to my nose. A faint sweet smell caught me by surprise, since it felt almost like lard. “I haven’t seen this before.”

“Sweetfat,” Keir answered, stepping out of his trous, standing there naked. “Would you do my back?”

With a nod, I looked up to discover myself in a crowd of naked men and women, in the process of rubbing this stuff all over themselves and each other. I flushed, moved behind Keir, and focused on his back, and his back alone. Which was no real sacrifice, since his bronze skin looked well with the gleam of the oil. I tried to keep my mind on other things. “Sweetfat?”

Marcus came up beside me with another pot. “We use it for rough skin, or when the wind blows faces red and raw. Or to prevent the musk from sticking to skin.”

“Musk?”

Keir was rubbing the oil into his face and hair. “Ehat musk is vile. We have to get the animal to empty its sac before we can kill it or the meat will be tainted.”

I scooped up a handful and smeared more on his back. There was a very faint greenish tinge to the fat. “What kind of grasses do you use in this?”

Keir shrugged.

Marcus had gone to another pack horse, and was handing out cloths and garments that were torn and tat tered. The warriors chosen for the musk teams were putting these on, tattered trous, or wrapping shirts and loose cloth about their loins. Old footwear as well was offered and everyone tried to find something that fit.

“The clothes will be burned when we are done. Water does no good to remove the stink. Instead we will strip and rub ourselves with dirt and grasses afterwards,” Keir explained.

“It sounds unpleasant.”

Yers laughed. “Which is why the ‘honor’ goes to the highest ranked warriors, Warprize.”

I kept my eyes averted, but I pondered Yers’s words. If that was the case, why had Iften refused a musk team?

The horses were being led up and I decided it was time to beat a hasty retreat out of the way. Joden fol lowed, as did Ander and Yveni. By now most of the teams were covered, although they all shone from the fat they’d rubbed into their bodies. The decision made to hunt, the excitement and tension was starting to build.

“Ander, just how dangerous are ehats?” I asked as the teams started to wrap thin cloths over the horses’ eyes. The horses had been stripped of their tack, except for their headgear. The riders were going bareback. Keir was searching for a cloth thin enough for his eyes as well.

“Very,” Ander said.

“The teams will harass from a distance, Lara, trying to get the creature to spray them.” Joden sounded reassuring. “They use the lances to kill from a distance, since arrows can’t pierce the wool and hide.”

Marcus had come up to us. “The scouts have found a place for us to watch this hunt. We need to leave now to be in position.”

I mounted Greatheart, and looked back to catch Keir’s eye. But Marcus got us moving, and my last glimpse was of Keir mounting his black and gathering his team.

No wonder they’d replaced the castles on the chess board with ehat figures. The animals were as big as castles.

Huge, in fact, with thick dark wool that dangled from their bodies in long shaggy strings. The horns were massive, wide and sharp, and stuck out from each side of the beast’s forehead. One sweep would easily knock a horse from its feet and impale the rider. I swallowed hard from the image in my head.

“They’re young.” Marcus spoke softly. He was laying next to me on the rise, in the tall grass. We’d crawled here, he, Joden, and I, to watch the hunt. Ander and Yveni were down with the horses, keeping watch.

“How can you tell?” I asked softly. The animals had their heads down, eating the grasses. I couldn’t make out their eyes, since the thick hair hung down over their snouts. The horns seemed to go on forever, and I couldn’t take my eyes off the tips.

“If they were older, one would watch as the others grazed,” Joden answered. “They’d also stay closer to gether.”

“Why bother?” I asked. “What can harm them? Besides men?”

“Cats,” Marcus replied. “A cat can pull one down.”

A cat? I frowned, looking out at the hulking beasts, and opened my mouth to question Marcus, when a group of riders appeared, and charged the nearest animal.

I’m sure that the other groups charged as well, but whether by accident or plan, Keir was in the group closest to us. I had a clear view and I almost wished I didn’t.

It was one thing to hear that Keir would be riding bareback and weaponless, with no armor, but it was another thing entirely to see it. He looked small and vulnerable, and I sucked in a breath as he and the other riders with him galloped toward the ehat.

They swept around the animal at a full gallop, yelling and waving their arms. Some threw stones, more to annoy than to hurt, since they seemed to bounce right off. I could see Rafe and Prest in the thick of things, trying to anger the beast.

The ehat raised its head from the grasses, its nostrils flaring as it took in their scent. It had a short, stubby tail that fluttered in annoyance at being disturbed. Even at this distance I could hear a deep growl, and then the animal snapped its head to the side, sweeping its horns at the nearest rider.

Dearest Goddess, it was fast.

Far quicker than I’d assumed it would be. I must have spoken out loud, because Marcus agreed. “They are, Warprize. It’s tricky, it is. They need to be close enough to anger, but far enough to avoid the horns or being trampled.” Joden nodded in agreement.

The other teams were also moving, but I watched only Keir as his team circled yet again. My heart stopped as Keir charged right into the ehat’s face, and the black reared to paw at the sky, neighing a challenge.

The ehat’s head came down with a terrific snort, and it stamped, as if preparing to charge. But Keir and the black had already moved off, to join the others circling back behind the animal, beyond the reach of those horns.

“That’s done it,” Joden said.

“How do you—”

“The tail.” Marcus pointed.

I looked in time to see the stub of the tail stand straight up, and a thick stream of yellow ichor shoot out at the riders. Keir was missed, but others weren’t so lucky. Prest seemed to be dripping in the stuff.

“Two left,” Marcus commented.

“They can do it three times?”

Joden nodded, gesturing off to one of the other groups. “Looks like Prest took a full hit to the head.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Keir. The ehat he faced was fully aroused now, stamping, and spraying out at anything that moved. I watched as everyone was sprayed, including Keir. As soon as it was certain that the animal had exhausted its supply, the riders moved off, away from camp.

“Normally, they’ll not bring that stink to camp,” Marcus replied to my questioning look. “They’d find a place to rub in the dirt and use crushed grasses on their skin and the horses. It takes the worst off.”

“Oh, the poor horses.”

“They’re better off than the warriors. The stink doesn’t seem to cling to horsehide as bad.”

“What about water? Soap?”

Joden joined in. “Water seems to make it worse. After a few hours, the dirt and grasses absorb it, and then they’ll bathe.”

“But this is not a normal hunt.” Marcus pointed off where Keir and the other musk teams had gathered. “They’d not miss this.”

“Who would?” Joden agreed. “Simus will rage that he missed this.”

“The kill teams are moving in.” Marcus pointed, standing up, and waving to let Ander and Yveni know they could join us.

We’d crawled up the rise so as not to spook the prey, but that wasn’t a worry now. I stood with Joden and watched as the next teams swooped in, full armored, and bearing lances. Two of the ehats seemed to realize the danger, and were trying to move closer to each other, but the teams were heading them off. Their musk might be gone, but those horns were still wickedly sharp, and the ehats weren’t afraid to use them.

“Any down yet?” Ander asked as he and Yveni joined us.

“Not yet,” Joden responded. “But I think that far one is going down.”

I looked to see the animal staggering, and the riders crying out as it fell.

“A quick kill,” Marcus said. “Thanks to the skies.”

Yveni came to stand behind me, looking out at the land behind us. She and Ander were taking turns, watching the hunt and our backs. Even here, even now, they didn’t let down their guard. They shifted, so that she could see. “Good. The faster the kill, the less risk to one of ours.”

Joden grunted, but never took his eyes off the scene before us. He was intent, trying to see it all. I knew he would remember it all, and wondered how he’d capture all of this in a song.

The air filled with the cries of warriors and the bellows of wounded ehats. Two more went down, leaving the last ehat, the one closest to us, still standing. “What is Iften playing at?” Marcus grumbled.

He was right, Iften was in the lead on this ehat. The animal was stamping, bellowing and using short charges to fend off the riders. I watched as Iften came around, a lance in his hand, aiming for the beast’s head.

“He wants an eye shot,” Joden noted absently.

“He cares more for his personal glory over the good of warriors,” Marcus snapped.

I held my breath as Iften rose in the saddle, raising the lance, headed right for the head. He threw up his hand, brandishing the lance—and dropped it.

There were gasps all around me as Iften fell back into the saddle, his arm cradled in front of him. But the ehat didn’t hesitate. It swung its head hard, and its horn caught both Iften and his horse, throwing them both in a tangle far into the grass. The ehat bellowed its triumph, and swung again, trying to catch another rider.

“They’ll lose it,” predicted Joden, as the riders on the team changed their tactics, interposing to keep the ehat from trampling Iften. But that gave the ehat a way out, and it turned to flee. “If it runs, it will be miles before it stops.”

I heard the cry first, a warbling that rang in the ears. It was Keir, racing in on the black, headed straight for the ehat. I held my breath in horror, he had no weapon or armor. What was he thinking?

But the cry had put new fire in the team, and they surged forward toward the animal, to try to cut if off. One warrior broke off and met Keir, tossing him a lance in mid-gallop.

“He’ll try for it.” Marcus spoke in satisfaction.

Goddess, he was going to do it. My mouth dried as he raced closer and closer to the beast, coming up from behind, under the horn. He seemed to rear up, the lance high, and then he threw. The lance pierced the ehat’s chest, just behind the leg.

“Lung hit,” Ander announced with satisfaction. Marcus and Joden both grunted in agreement.

The ehat took a step, another, staggered, and then dropped in its tracks.

A great shout arose, the cheering of all the warriors.

Warriors were leaping in the air, shouting and dancing. They were giddy with their success. I shouted too, sharing their exhilaration and relief. But I was made even happier by the sight of Keir heading our way, riding his horse with graceful lopes toward us.

Until the wind shifted.

I am a healer, used to the sights and smells of corrupted and sick bodies. There wasn’t any putrid substance that I hadn’t dealt with before. Still, I didn’t dare risk another breath. I’d empty my stomach for sure.

Yveni stood next to me, and leaned into my ear. “It means much, when one greets a lover covered in ehat musk with a kiss,” she said.

Mentally I rolled my eyes, and wondered if I could make this so called ‘sacrifice’.

Everyone else drifted back as Keir came closer, even my guards. Not that I could blame them. The stench was horrific. As he got closer, I could see the yellow globs all over him, and his poor black horse. I frowned. It looked like the musk had thickened in the air. What was that stuff?

“Warprize!” Keir shouted, laughing and smiling. His poor eyes were streaming tears, as were mine. He pulled to a stop in front of me, and leaned down. Goddess help me, who could resist? I stood on tiptoe and kissed the man. His mouth was warm and salty and tasted of musk: I dropped down in haste, breaking the kiss.

Keir sat back up, breathing hard. His eyes sparkled with a deep, satisfied look. He laughed at Marcus and Joden and gestured out where the hunters danced around their kill and celebrated. “You must sing of this, Joden!”

“No one tells a Singer how to craft a song, Warlord,” Joden chided him. “But this is a once in a lifetime sight.”

Keir nodded, but his smile had dimmed slightly. “If not for me, Joden, then for them. They deserve to hear it sung.”

“There is truth in that.” Joden nodded his agreement.

“The truth that needs to be told is that you stink, Warlord.” Marcus grimaced. “Be off with you!”

Keir laughed. He would have turned the horse away, but I spoke up first. “Wait.” I fumbled in my satchel, looking for an empty pot. “I want some of that musk.”

There was a collective groan from everyone around me.

We’d returned to camp, but Keir had been sent off to cleanse himself. I now had a small sample of the musk sealed in a pot and wrapped in leathers. If I couldn’t figure out a use for it, I bet Eln could. Would that I could be there when he got his first whiff.

The camp was preparing for a party, with large fire pits for roasting and the grass in various places being trampled down for dancing. Drums and rattles were emerging from packs, and there was an air of happi ness and excitement. Everyone was digging out streamers or scarves to add to their armor.

Marcus had laid out the infamous red dress for me to wear. Infamous at least in Xy, since that was the color worn by ladies of questionable morals. I’d worn it in the Throne room of the Castle of Water’s Fall, and been insulted as a result. An insult that Keir had avenged with one swift stroke of his sword. But here, on the Plains, this red dress meant something different and I put it on with pleasure. It promised to be a night of celebration of both the return to the Plains and the four-ehat hunt.

There were even plans of a more permanent camp, which had surprised me until Marcus pointed out that it would take days to butcher the animals. Only something called the first meats would be taken tonight, with guards posted to drive off scavengers. Even with everyone working, it would take time to cut and preserve the meat and hide.

While Marcus and the others worked on preparations, I had a job to do as well. A few of the injured sought me out for healing. Nothing truly serious, thank the Goddess, mostly bruises and cuts. It pleased me that some of them trusted me to treat these ills, accepting my skills.

Not everyone felt that way. I knew full well that there were others that would not come to me, and I made no effort to seek them out. There’d been no broken bones that I knew of, and I didn’t bother to ask after Iften.

Let him consult the warrior-priest that cast the ‘healing spells’ on his arm.

I thought about that as I sat by the fire, putting away the last of my supplies. I was sure that he’d tried to use his injured arm to throw that lance, and from the looks of it, the pain had flared when he’d hefted the lance. It was only a matter of time before the swelling damaged the arm, numbing the muscles and curling the fingers into a useless claw. But he’d made his choice, and he’d have to live with the consequences.

The sound of horses brought me to my feet, and I watched as Keir, Prest, and Rafe rode in, covered in dirt and grass stains on what was left of that old clothing. I took a few tentative breaths, but Keir just laughed and swept me up by the hips, holding me high as he spun, laughing up at me. I clutched at his hair, breathless with my own laughter. Thankfully, the smell wasn’t too bad, but it was still there.

Keir put me on my feet, and Marcus handed him saddle bags and his weapons. “Clothes and some soap. You have enough time to wash before the celebration begins.”

My eyes widened as I took in Rafe and Prest. Rafe seemed fine, but Prest. . . “Prest, you shaved your head!” Those long black braids were gone. Prest’s bald head gleamed in the light.

He shrugged and ran a hand over his baldness. “Easier to shave.” He flashed me a smile. “It grows back.”

“Eventually,” Rafe added. “Until then, I will need to protect my eyes from the glare.”

We laughed, then Keir took my hand. “I’ve something to show Lara down by the river. We will return.”

Marcus put his hands on his hips. “None of that, now. There’s a celebration to start, and no time for ‘showing’ her—”

Keir cut him off, as I blushed. “We’ll be back in time.”

Marcus gave him an evil smile. “I’ll have the first meats waiting.”

Keir grimaced, and grabbed my hand. “Come, Lara.”

We walked out of the light of the fires, heading away from the camp, Rafe and Prest trailing behind. I knew there was a river nearby, since others had talked of getting water there, but hadn’t ventured in that direction. It felt good to hold Keir’s hand and walk as the sun set in the distance. He tugged me along, looking as if he was searching for just the right place.

Finally, he dropped the saddle bags, and took up his weapons. “Leave your satchel here. Walk behind me and stay very quiet. I want to show you something.”

He gestured for my guards to stay behind. Then we walked slowly and carefully down a small path to the banks of the river. Keir urged me off to the side, under the shelter of some alders. We crouched below the branches, and Keir settled us down, draping my cloak over the both of us. “Watch the far shore.”

We waited, sitting close together, silent.

I leaned closer, and put my lips to his ear. “What did Marcus mean? About the first meat?” I leaned back to look into his face.

Keir made a face, and put his lips to my ear. His breath tickled as he spoke. “A warlord is given the first meats, the heart, liver, and stomach, of the ehat as an honor, to keep or to share as he sees fit.” I raised an eyebrow. He sighed. “I hate the taste of first meats. Always have.”

I chuckled in spite of myself.

“So, I make a great show of sharing the meats with all my warriors. Out of my generous spirit and in honor of my warriors.” Keir rolled his eyes. “I still have to eat some, but usually only a bite or two. With four ehats, my plate will overflow tonight.”

I covered my mouth to stifle my laughter. “Marcus knows?”

“Marcus knows. And now you. My most shameful secret.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Keir placed a finger on my lips, and shook his head. His hand tightened on mine, and I looked over to see a creature making its way to the water.

It was big, its yellow eyes bright in the fading light. Its fur was striped like the grasses about us, black and orange. It padded to the water’s edge and started to drink.

“What is that?” I whispered, barely breathing.

“A cat,” Keir breathed back.

A cat? That was no cat, no cat like I’d ever seen in the mountains. I could easily see this creature pulling down an ehat by itself. I sucked in a breath as it lifted its head and looked straight at us. Then it shook its massive head, yawned, and started to drink again.

Goddess above, it had a lot of teeth.

“The scent of the kill pulled it close. The scouts told me it was lurking near here. I’d hoped to show you the symbol of my Tribe. Another gift of the elements.” Keir sounded smug and very pleased with himself. “We are favored, you and I.”

“Do you hunt those?” I asked quietly.

“No,” Keir answered. “Unless they take to hunting among the people of the Tribes. Then there is no choice. But the body is buried with honor, and the spirit mourned.”

The cat lifted its head, testing the breeze. Its mouth curled back in a silent snarl, and then it turned and padded off into the darkness, fading into the grasses in the blink of an eye.

“Come.” Keir tugged my hand. “I’ll bathe closer to people this night.”

I readily agreed.

Keir bathed quickly, with the other men and women of the musk teams who had waited to give the dirt and grasses time to work. I stayed on the bank with his clothes and weapons and snuck glances of my naked, wet Keir. Rafe and Prest stayed close. There were others about, cavorting in the water, men and women warriors alike. I still flushed at some of their antics. But most knew my customs, and I noticed that an effort was made to stay out of my view.

Keir, however, made sure I could see him.

Once he was dry, he dressed. Marcus had given him some soft brown leather trous, a vest of black leather, and a tunic of soft white cotton. I could hardly wait to get him out of it, if I were to be honest with myself.

But that would have to wait.

We started back, laughing and talking. He was describing the celebration to me, how the ehat spirits would be thanked, the honors awarded, the first meats handed out, and the merriment that would follow well into the night.

I took his hand as we neared the camp. “I’ve yet to see you dance, Keir.”

“I’ll dance this night,” he promised. “I’ll dance this night for everyone to see, and then we’ll dance together, you and I.” He pulled me close. “In the privacy of our tent, beneath the blankets.

I blushed, and he laughed, keeping his arm around my waist. We walked right into their midst without a warning, not even aware they were there.

It was Marcus’s stiffness that told us both something was wrong. Marcus jerked his head to the side, and we turned to see a horde of mounted warrior-priests, filling the intended dance grounds, their eyes glittering, their faces stiff and serious. The light of the fire pits made their multi-colored tattoos almost move over their bodies.

I gasped, without thinking, and Keir stepped forward, placing himself in front of me.

The warrior-priest in front urged his horse forward a pace. “We have come for the Warprize.”

With a swift move, he plunged his spear into the ground at Keir’s feet.


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