Текст книги "Warlord"

Автор книги: Elizabeth A. Vaughan

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Chapter 5

The warriors stamped their feet and raised their voices, demanding more from Joden. So he sang two more songs after the breakfast song. One was a rousing song about a troublemaker named Uppor, and how he stole something from each element to create horses for the Plains. The crowd loved it, especially the part where they all joined in the chorus.

The last was about traveling at night, under a full moon and a sky full of stars. Joden’s voice soared above us, making my eyes travel up to see the stars that were spread out over our heads. The song seemed to hold us all spellbound. It took my breath away.

I wasn’t the only one. There was a profound silence when Joden’s last note quivered in the air. He bowed and walked back into the crowd, with Keekai’s grateful thanks. Neither song had been about Keir, so I’d relaxed, grateful to my friend for staying neutral. Whatever his doubts about Keir’s plans to unite our peoples, I couldn’t see Joden being unfair or cruel.

“Ah! The battle dance!” Keekai gestured and I followed her arm to see a group of warriors taking the field, with wooden swords and shields in hand.

Keekai turned slightly. “Your pattern, Marcus?”

Marcus said nothing, but he came to stand behind me, cloaked as always, his arms crossed over his chest. I looked at him, and he gave me a slight smile from the depths of his cloak. With a nod, he turned my attention back to the dancing field.

Two groups of warriors faced each other, lined up on either side. Keir stood before the one group, dressed in his black leathers, but without his cloak. Yers faced him from across the field. Both held a wooden sword and shield, as did each of the warriors behind them.

Keir raised his arms. Yers raised his in response, and silence covered the crowd. Then they dropped their arms together.

At the signal, both groups leaped forward, charging, swords high, yelling blood-curdling war cries.

They came together with a clash, and I would have jumped to my feet had Marcus not put his hand on my shoulder. “Watch.”

There was a wild burst of drumming and only then could I see a pattern to the confusion. Each warrior faced another, exchanging blows with their swords, defending themselves with their shields. It was a fight that was also a dance. I relaxed slightly, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the sight of Keir and Yers trading blows.

For all that it was a dance, it was clear that the warriors were giving it everything they had, from the sounds of grunts and the crack of wooden swords against shields. For all that it was a pattern, it held a fierce wildness that I’d not seen before. Each pair moved about the other, striking wherever they could, the cracks of wood on wood adding to the beat of the drums. Keir was intent on his dance, his body moving with all the power and grace he was capable of.

My mouth went dry at the sight.

A weapon cracked and splintered, and a warrior threw herself down on the ground to lie ‘dead’. I feared an injury for a brief moment, until it was clear that she’d been taken out of the dance by the loss of her weapon. Her opponent turned to engage another, even as another warrior dropped.

My heart pounded with the drums as warriors dropped ‘dead’ on the field, the dancers now forced to avoid their bodies even as they continued their fight. Keir felled Yers, and then moved to another warrior with the barest of pauses. As I watched him move, I realized that he’d been holding back with me, holding back the wildness within, probably to protect me. A flash of physical heat went through my body as my heart beat faster still. I wanted that wildness, wanted to provoke that power within him.

At last, with a final blow, Keir was left standing among the ‘dead’.

The drums beat once more, then cheers rose, as did the ‘dead’, to congratulate the dancers. They laughed and embraced each other in celebration of the dance. One woman warrior hugged Keir, and an ugly flash of jealousy pierced my soul. These people knew nothing of marriage, and while we’d pledged ourselves to each other, that woman was strong and had breasts the size of—

Keir gave her the briefest of embraces, and then turned to look at the platform, searching for me. His eyes found mine, and he grinned, his teeth flashing. He strode through the crowd of dancers, headed for me. Keir seemed to glow, the black of the leathers contrasted by the bronze of his skin. But as much as he glowed, his eyes gleamed even brighter. They were like sparks, flaring with joy and love.

I couldn’t help myself. I left the platform and ran to meet him. His smile lit his face, and he swept me up, lifting me high by the hips, and spinning us in a circle.

I laughed, all my fears washed away by the look in his eyes.

He set me on my feet, and kissed me hard, his hands slipping down my back to press my hips against his. I wrapped my arms around his neck and returned the kiss, greedy for his mouth. It was only a lack of air that forced us apart. Well, that and Keekai calling out to us, “Keir, you promised to teach me chess.”

Keir’s eyes never left mine. “With all due respect, Elder, ask Marcus.” Keir called over his shoulder, sweeping me up into his arms, “I’ve promised this night to my Warprize.”

Laughter rose around us, and I laughed as well, even as I blushed. Keir strode toward our tent. Keekai called something out, but we ignored her, focused only on each other.

Once in the privacy of the tent, Keir gentled, setting me softly on my feet. But I’d have none of that, attacking his leathers, trying to wrest them from his warm, sweaty body. But the material clung, and I had to tug to peel the leather off his arms. Keir chuckled, letting me have my way, but offering no help. I growled, and finally stepped back in frustration, and huffed out a breath.

Keir arched an eyebrow, but said nothing, although his laughter was there in his eyes. He made no move to disrobe.

Two could play that game.

I moved closer, close enough that my breath tickled the skin of his throat. A pulse worked there, throbbing under the skin.

He didn’t move.

I pressed my hand over Keir’s groin, and leaned forward to lick the pulse point. Holding still, I counted his breaths. One ...

Two...

Leathers went flying. My clothes were not far behind.

Keir’s arm was around my waist as he nuzzled my throat, but I pulled him to the bed. I was willing and wet, and I pushed him down, and impaled myself on his length. I cried out as he filled me.

He froze. “Lara, did I—”

I braced my hands by his head, and leaned down to scrape my teeth on his jaw. My hair fell about us, a curtain against the world. “You didn’t hurt me,” I panted. “But if you don’t move, they will find your lifeless body outside this tent in the morning.”

He surged up, and I cried out again, and our bodies moved together as one. But now I knew enough to lay claim to the body beneath me. Keir gripped my hips, trying to control my movements, but I had my own needs, and I would not be denied.

My Warlord met all of my demands, and made some of his own. His eyes glowed, fierce and commanding as he rolled us over, and pinned me to the bed. It was his turn to take control, and I knew all of his power and strength, but it was tempered even then.

For when the moment came, that infinite breath of hot, white light, he cried out my name even as I cried out his.

The night air cooled our bodies as we lay there gasping for breath.

“We should talk,” I managed to whisper, even though my body craved sleep.

Keir sighed. “Talk?” He drew me close and nuzzled my neck. “With my wits gone with the winds, never to be seen again?”

I laughed, and kissed him, but moved out of his arms. If I knew Marcus, he’d have left something for us ... and sure enough, he had. A pitcher of cool water, and gurt. I took up the pitcher and mugs he’d left be hind and ignored the other. I got back into bed, where Keir was waiting to wrap me in the warm bedding.

We drank the cool water, and got comfortable together. I pulled my hair back and up, letting the air get to my neck, still damp with sweat. Keir gave me a hooded look, but I waggled a finger in front of his face. “None of that, now. Talk.”

He sighed again, nodded, and drained his cup.

“Why do you have to release your army?” I asked. “Won’t that leave you vulnerable?”

Keir smiled. “Once a Warlord arrives at the Plains after a season of raiding, he disbands his army, allowing his warriors to return to their tribal groups as they choose. The bounty is distributed and any that have shown valor are honored. The Warlord returns to the Heart of the Plains, to report to the Council of Elders, but only with a few warriors.”

“But—”

Keir shook his head. “You are thinking like a city-dweller. The Plains are hard, Lara. Especially during the season of snows. If the army stays together, it drains the land of animals and water, you see? Spread out, with the tribes constantly moving, that is how we survive on the Plains. In the spring, we come together again for the next raiding season.”

“There is more than one Warlord?”

Keir nodded as he put his cup to the side, and lay back, flat on the bed. “I must release my warriors soon. There will be ehat in their saddle bags, but not much more. It is important that I am here, to remind them of my plans, that the rewards we seek will come in time.”

“Even as Iften reminds them of their lack.”

“Even so.” Keir smiled evilly. “It will not help his cause that he dropped his lance in the hunt.” His smile faded. “Still, the warriors will listen. I cannot leave. And you must go with Keekai.”

I placed my empty mug on the floor, and moved to lay next to him, propping myself up on my elbows so I could see his face. “The ceremony?”

“Normally, a Warlord brings a Warprize directly to the Heart of the Plains as soon as possible. There, they are separated, because the Warprize must come freely to the Warlord, without force or threat. They protect you from me, to allow you to tell them your truths.”

“I know my truth, Keir.” He smiled as I asked my next question. “Courting?”

“The other Warlords are given a chance to court the Warprize, to show that they are more skillful in battle and in leadership.” Keir reached out to twist one of my curls around his finger. “So they each will court you, to try to get you to pick them.”

I snorted softly, and he smiled.

“So, in the morning ...” I prompted.

“Keekai will come for you. You will be removed from my protection, and taken under hers. She will ask if I have provided for you, and brought you to the Plains safely. She will ask if you wish to return to Xy, or go the Heart to face the Council. She will offer to allow you a Guardian, someone that you trust to go with you. It is not required, and no, you cannot ask for me.”

I closed my mouth with a snap.

Keir tugged the curl. “Either Rafe or Prest would be rewarded that way, for it is an honor to conduct the Warprize to the Heart.” He growled slightly. “Normally, it is less than a day’s journey, from the Warlord’s camp to the Council tent.”

“You trust Keekai.” It was a question and a reminder.

“I do.” Keir nodded. “She has great status and authority, and she will watch over you like a cat for its kits.” He sighed again. “But I do not like this. I am trying to bring change to my people, Lara, and change is rarely bloodless.”

I shivered at his words, then crawled into his arms, and placed my head on his chest. “I have to tell you the truth, Keir. I’m afraid.” His arms tightened around me, and I shivered in his arms. “Marcus said that I have to—”

“Face your fear.” Keir’s voice was a soft whisper in my ear. “Easy to say, eh?”

I nodded, and hugged him closer. His breathing hitched slightly, and I lifted my head. “Keir? Am I too heavy?”

“No.” He carded his fingers through my hair. “It’s a comfort, to feel you next to me, skin to skin.”

I smiled, and lowered my head to his chest and closed my eyes. I took a deep breath, taking in the scents of our tent, and the spicy smell of his skin. The warmth we shared beneath the blankets was one of those quiet pleasures that I didn’t really appreciate until it was to be taken from me.

“I will tell you a truth, Lara.” Keir’s voice was soft. “I felt fear for the second time in my life as I lay ill. To have my body weaken that way, unable to move or aid myself.” He shuddered beneath me. “I hope to never face that again. Now I know what I asked Marcus to deal with when he was injured, and I wonder that he didn’t find a weapon and kill us both.”

“Second time?” I lifted my head to look into his eyes. “When was the first? Your first battle?”

“Oh no.” His voice was the barest of whispers. “I am trained for combat, my heart’s fire.” He shifted, moving us to our sides under the furs. “I have been angry and frustrated in battle, but not afraid. No, I swear to you that sitting beside you, terrified that every breath you drew would be your last, not knowing if you would live or die, and helpless to aid you—”

His words broke off, his pain so clear in his voice and eyes. I kissed him then, pressed soft kisses against his lips, his eyes, and his mouth. “I’m here, Keir. Alive and well.”

“Never have the skies been so dark, never have I been so afraid.” Keir pressed his forehead to mine. “And now I must watch you ride away with Keekai, to face the Council alone.”

I lifted my head away, and stroked his cheek. “It will help that she looks so much like you. Could she be your mother?”

“The one who bore me?” Keir shrugged, and I knew he didn’t see how that could be important. In Water’s Fall, Atira had told me that the women of the Plains did not raise the children they bore. Keir continued. “She is of my tribe, and a strong mentor and supporter, both as thea and as tribal elder and council member. You can trust her, Lara, as you trust me.”

Bittersweet words. Keir and I had learned a hard lesson in Wellspring, about trusting in each other. Keir had said that trust could only be mended with time and deeds on both our parts. We’d sworn ourselves to each other, forever, with a new understanding of what that really meant.

I lifted my hands to press them to his cheek. “Keekai said that we would travel slowly. You will come as fast as you can. A few days, Keir. That’s all.” I smiled at him, through my tears. “I will tell them my truths and they will know that I claim you and only you as my Warlord.”

“Lara.” Keir kissed me then, with a hunger that I felt through my whole body. I surrendered to him, letting him ease his body over mine until he pressed me to the bed. My breath shuddered through my body as our passion rose between us.

Keir broke the kiss, hovering over me, his eyes glittering. I spread my hands over his chest, and brushed his nipples with the tips of my fingers. “Make me believe that the sun will not rise, my Warlord.”

Keir crushed his lips to mine.

And in his arms, throughout the night, he almost convinced me.

Despite our efforts, morning dawned clear and cold.

A crowd had gathered before our tent, since word of my departure had spread during the night. I stood in the cleared area, with my bodyguards around me. Keir was off to the side, with Yers and the other warleaders. Iften was there, standing slightly apart, a smirk on his face, two of the warrior-priests at his side. I still couldn’t tell them apart, except that both of them were male.

Keekai entered the cleared area, dressed in armor and looking so much like Keir that it took my breath away.

“Xylara, Daughter of Xy, from the Kingdom of Xy, you have been claimed as Warprize by Keir of the Cat, Warlord of the Plains.” Keekai’s voice carried to the crowd that had gathered around the dance area. I could tell that she was concentrating on her words, changing them to fit the setting. “He has brought you to the Plains, so that you may go the Heart of these lands and be confirmed as the Warprize. Have you taken anything from the hands of another on this journey?”

“I have not.” I had to swallow to get the words out.

“Has he provided for you?”

“He has.” My voice sounded stronger than I felt, which was good, since my stomach was filled with fluttering moths.

“I am Keekai of the Cat, Council Elder. I’ve been sent by the Council to escort you to the Heart of the Plains.” Keekai held out her hand. “Step out from the protection of the Warlord, Xylara.”

I walked forward, passing between Prest and Rafe, to stand alone before Keekai. I almost felt naked, I was so used to having my guards at my side.

“You are now under my protection, Xylara.” Keekai placed a hand on the pommel of her sword. “Keir of the Cat cannot command your obedience or your actions. Do you understand?”

“I do,” I said.

“A true Warprize is a rare thing. A Warprize represents chaos and upheaval. New thoughts, new ideas, and change. If confirmed by the Council of Elders, you will hold equal status with the warlords, and a place on the Council itself.” Keekai looked out over the people gathered around us. “But to be an instrument of change is not an easy thing. Dangerous, even.” She looked back at me and tilted her head to the side. “As the Plains themselves are a dangerous place.”

I swallowed, but I held her stare.

“Do you understand, Xylara?” Keekai asked.

She wasn’t telling me anything that I hadn’t already heard. Still, it took me a moment to answer. “I do, Keekai.”

“So.” She paused, then continued. “I would ask you—do you wish to go to the Heart of the Plains to be confirmed by the Council as Warprize? Or do you wish to return to your land, to the arms of your people, to your home?” Keekai paused again to consider me closely. “None can force your decision. Speak, and it will be as you wish.”

That was it, the offer of freedom. If I asked, I would be escorted back to Water’s Fall, back to the arms of my loved ones.

Keekai’s eyes were grim. “Understand what you do, Xylara, Daughter of Xy. You step into our world now, into our ways. A land unknown to you. Do you truly wish to leave what you have always known, for the unknown?”

She had sensed my fear. But the Plains were open and wide and something called to me to answer this challenge, and it wasn’t just the love I felt for Keir. This was a chance to help my people and his. I turned my head to look at him, standing in the sun, wearing his chainmail, his arms crossed over his chest, a grim look on his face. But his eyes, they held the promise of all our tomorrows.

I turned back to face Keekai. I could feel the eyes of all the warriors on me, but I had no doubts as to my answer. “I wish to go to the Heart of the Plains, there to claim my Warlord.”

Keekai’s eyes were warm as the crowd parted to reveal Marcus leading Greatheart and a pack animal with supplies. Marcus came to stand just behind Keekai, hidden in his cloak.

Keekai spoke. “The Warlord has provided for your journey, Xylara.”

“And did he provide that on her hip?” It was Still Waters, I think, or at least one of the warrior-priests standing by Iften. He was pointing at my satchel.

“Bought and paid for by my hand, in the city of Water’s Fall.” Keir voice was a low snarl, just this side of polite.

Still Waters sniffed, but said nothing more.

Keekai turned back to me. “Xylara, you have the right to a Guardian on this journey, one warrior familiar to you, to stand at your back, to see you safely to the Heart of the Plains. Would you have a Guardian?”

“I would.” That caused a bit of a stir. Prest and Rafe exchanged glances and I could tell that they were pleased that one of them would be chosen. I was sorry to have to disappoint them.

“Who would you choose as Guardian?” Keekai asked.

I took a deep breath. “I choose Marcus.”

The crowd around us exploded in anger.

Chapter 6

I’d known, of course, that Marcus was considered to be less than whole because of his injuries. Never mind that he still held his knowledge or skills. But Keir accepted him, and the others that I’d seen interact with Marcus did as well. I’d thought that Marcus was accepted by the majority of the warriors.

I was wrong.

From the crowd’s glittering eyes and angry faces, it was clear that his disfigurement condemned him. To their way of thinking, he wasn’t even a person.

I gritted my teeth in the face of their anger and repeated my words. “I choose Marcus of the—” I paused, unable to remember his tribe. “Marcus. I choose Marcus as my Guardian.”

“She honors a cripple!” Iften exclaimed, and everyone started talking at once.

Marcus stood silent amidst the uproar, his eyes down. Only the white of his knuckles where he held Greatheart’s reins gave away his feelings.

Keekai’s voice cut through the rumble. Her face was neutral, but her eyes were sharp and hard. “Xylara. You are of a different land, and your ways are not ours.” She gave Marcus a quick glance, then her gaze returned to me. “Your words are strange, you speak in a different tongue and this may cause confusion. The one you refer to is not—” She paused, as if looking for a word. “He is not eligible for this position. This honor.”

“She mocks the elements and our ways,” Iften snarled, looking around at the warriors. Heads nodded in agreement.

“Marcus saved my life twice with his weapons and his care,” I snapped, letting my voice rise with my temper. “Without him, I would not stand here. How can he not be worthy?”

Voices arose, as angry warriors expressed their fury. And fury it was. I’d gone too far. Keekai called for silence not once, but three times, with no success.

As she tried to get control of the situation, Keir caught my eye. He was standing there, silent, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was sympathetic, but he gave me a slight shake of his head. If Keir didn’t think I should push this issue . . .

Marcus moved, dropping Greatheart’s reins, and knelt at my feet.

The voices all cut off as his cloak settled down around him. In the silence he reached out and took my hand. “You honor me, Warprize, and I thank you. But choose another.”

“Marcus.” My shoulders slumped as I whispered to him. “I want you with me.”

He looked up then, his eye glittering in the shadow of his hood, and whispered back. “I wish to go with you. To see you safe. But do not deny the truth of what is, for what you wish to be.” His voice rose. “Any warrior you choose is honor bound to see you safe to the Heart of the Plains, Warprize. Do not fear.”

I didn’t want to choose another, Goddess knew, and I pressed my lips together to try to control my anger. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

But the look in Marcus’s eye told me that I had to accept it. At least, for now. I nodded and released his hand. “I withdraw my choice.”

Marcus rose, and pulled his cloak in to make sure that it covered him completely. He stepped back to his position by Greatheart. The warriors around us were settling down, the warrior-priests all grim and daunting. But Iften, Iften had that smug look on his face, as if all was going well in his world. I narrowed my eyes at that moment, and the obvious choice leaped to mind.

Keekai had her silence, and she turned back to me. “You may choose another, if you wish.”

“I wish.” I smiled sweetly. My voice must have given my intentions away because both Keir and Marcus stiffened. Keekai noted their reaction, and gave me a searching look. “Who do you choose?”

I stood there, staring over her head for just a moment, letting the tension build. Then I smiled at Keekai. “I choose Iften of the Boar.”

That wiped the smirk off his face. Iften gaped like a fish, his face turning red. Everyone else looked at me with the same expression of astonishment.

I stood, outwardly calm, even though my heart raced in my chest. Afraid that I would burst out laughing, I held my breath and waited for an outcry.

But the only sound was the wind in the grass, and Greatheart’s soft snores. Everyone around me stood in stunned silence, then all eyes shifted to Iften’s face. Voices rose around us, but I turned my gaze to Keir.

He was furious, with that vein throbbing in his forehead, and those vibrant blue eyes pierced through me with their fury. I just looked at him, unable to go to his side and explain. ‘Think about it, beloved.’

Then his eyes grew thoughtful, and I knew that he was seeing some of the advantages that I saw. His eyes flicked to Iften, still struggling with the idea, and his mouth quirked slightly. When his gaze shifted back to me, the look he gave me was one of exasperation. ‘I trust you, but you might have warned me.’

I shrugged, and smiled at him. I’d have warned him if I’d thought of it before this moment.

“So. Iften of the Boar.” Keekai’s voice held a very formal and rather satisfied tone. “What say you?”

Iften’s eyes darted around, from me to Keekai, to Keir, and then to the warrior-priests. I’d never seen him at a loss before.

It felt good.

“Iften.” Keekai’s voice was now impatient. “You have been offered the honor of Guardian to the Warprize. How say you?”

Iften’s face was dark, his gaze coming to rest hard on mine. The hate was almost a physical blow. “I accept.”

“Do you pledge to keep the Warprize safe and see her unharmed to the Council of the Elders at the Heart of the Plains?” Keekai pressed the point, more for Keir’s benefit than mine.

Iften put his shoulders back. He’d recovered a bit, and the accustomed sneer was back in his voice when he spoke “I do.”

Keekai nodded. “Then gather your gear. We depart when you are read—”

“Elder.” Keir spoke, interrupting her.

“What now?” Keekai snapped.

“I’d ask that Joden of the Hawk go with you to the Heart. He should return quickly, so that he may be tested as a Singer.” Keir’s voice was bland, as if it meant nothing to him either way, but I knew he wanted someone he trusted with me on the journey.

Keekai gave him a considering look, and turned to speak to Joden, but once again, she was interrupted.

“No.” One of the warrior-priests spoke. It might have been Still Waters, but it was hard to tell. “That one denied mercy and must answer for it.”

Joden had kept his face neutral, but his eyes narrowed at that point. But Keekai was already shaking her head. “My goal is the Warprize, and no other. Joden must make his own way, in his own time.”

“But—” Keir pressed his point, but Keekai would have none of it.

“No, Warlord.” She cut him off with a simple gesture of her hand. She turned a bit, to look at the warriors that had gathered around us. She scowled. “And don’t you all have four ehats to render? Off with you!”

The crowd broke up, warriors scattering off to their tasks. Iften headed to his tent with a warrior-priest, both deep in conversation. Keir moved over to talk to Marcus, and they spoke in low tones. Joden and Yers had stayed behind, along with my four guards. Rafe had a faintly offended look. I caught his eyes and shrugged an apology. He looked at me for a moment, and then his smile lit his face and he shrugged back. I was forgiven.

Marcus came toward me, leaving Keir to stand alone. He pulled Greatheart along, with a snort of protest from the horse. Without hesitation, he stepped between my warrior-priest guards and handed me the reins. Keekai turned her head to look, but didn’t object. My new warrior-priest guards didn’t even bother to look at him.

Greatheart immediately started snuffing at my hair happily. I reached over to scratch him on his chest, just over his scar.

“Hisself says to say he is not certain this is wise. Do not leave Keekai’s side,” Marcus spoke softly as he adjusted Greatheart’s harness.

“I won’t.”

“I say you do this so as to look at that one’s injury, yes?” Marcus’s one eye gleamed bright.

I choked back a laugh, and reached out to put my hand on his arm. “I wish—”

Marcus shook his head. “It cannot be. But you have brightened my skies, Lara.” He took my hand, and shoved the sleeve of my tunic up my arm. He was shielding our movements with his body and cloak.

“Marcus?”

With swift fingers, he strapped something to my arm. It took me a moment, but I recognized it. It was the knife that Heath had been given by Xymund—the knife he had been told to kill me with.

“You release it so, and it is in your hand.” Marcus demonstrated quickly, then reset the blade and pulled my sleeve down. “Tell no one. Practice when you can.”

I nodded, unable to speak. The noises around us told me that Iften was returning. “Keep him safe for me, Marcus,” I begged.

“See to yourself, Lara,” came the gruff answer, and Marcus turned to go. Iften was coming up, leading a horse with saddle and packs, his cloak over his arm. Marcus stepped in close and deliberately walked into Iften, knocking into his shoulder. “Be sure that you keep her safe, cripple.” Marcus hissed.

Iften snarled, fumbling for his sword, but Marcus had already moved past.

In the midst of all of this, I looked through the bodies and the horses to see Keir, standing tall and silent, watching me. I looked over to where Keekai was about to mount. “Keekai?”

She turned and looked at me.

“May I say goodbye to Keir?”

“No.” That from a warrior-priest mounted nearby. “It is forbidden.”

“Pah,” Keekai mocked. “As if her mind can be changed with a simple farewell.” She jerked her head in Keir’s direction, which I took as permission. My warrior-priest guards moved with me, as I walked the short distance to his side.

Keir stepped forward and I went into his arms willingly, wrapped in their warmth and security. I rested my head on his chest above his heart, and drew a deep breath. For one long, wonderful moment, I was safe in his arms, and the world around us vanished.

I felt Keir draw in a breath as well, and knew he felt the same. I hugged him close, trying to commit the moment to memory, waiting for his arms to fall away. But they didn’t. They tightened instead, as if he’d hold me forever.

He couldn’t let me go.

I lifted my head, to see the doubt, worry, and fear in his bright blue eyes. I hesitated, and Keir’s eyes changed, as if he’d made a decision of his own. His arms released me, and I knew in another moment, he’d pull his swords and refuse to let me go.

I couldn’t let him do that. It had to be my decision, my choice.

I shook my head slightly, and he paused. Silently, he stood and waited.