Warprize (44 page)

With distant cries, the army began to pass in front of us, with the leaders in the forefront. I spotted Iften and Joden, but my eyes locked on Keir. He was astride his horse, dressed in black, hard to miss with his scarlet cape. He rode at the lead, eyes to the front. Joden had obviously seen us, he surged forward and spoke to Keir. But Keir passed without turning his head, without a glance.

Simus chuckled. “He’s showing off.”

“How so?”

“Moving out at a trot. Normally the army moves at a walk.”

“To save the horses.”

Simus laughed. “No, to save our asses. Trotting’s hard on the rider. He’s trying to impress. They’ll slow once they are out of sight.”

It took some time for the entire army to pass by, but at last the stream of soldiers and equipment ended. While we couldn’t see them, Simus had assured me that the rear guard had stayed behind. They’d wait for about an hour, then spread out, checking for pursuit, reporting back to Keir on a regular basis. I was counting on that last part.

When the last man passed the fork in the road, I dismounted, and removed my cloak and shoes.

“This is dangerous, Lara.” Simus frowned. “You’ll be alone on the road, with no protection. At least let me follow at a distance to watch over you.”

“No, Simus, I forbid it.” I shivered in the white shift and crammed the cloak and shoes into the saddlebags. “Your people love a grand gesture, and this certainly qualifies.” I handed Simus the reins. “The Warlord has claimed me. I will take nothing except from his hands. I just wish I knew how he will take this.” After all, I had his heart, he’d said so himself.

“Would that I could offer you assurances, but all I know for certain is that he will be furious.” Simus sighed, then flashed a grin. “So will Joden. Tell him I will send my words. Be well, Warprize.”

“Be well, Simus.” I turned and walked away, down the road, following the army.

We were still within sight of the city walls, and I could hear a faint cheer as I started down the road. Word had spread of my intentions, and there was a crowd along the walls, watching me go. Othur, Warren, and Simus would take good care of the kingdom, of that I was sure. I was not sure how this grand gesture of mine would be received.

I could see the army moving away up ahead, the cloud of dust still visible. The road was pounded dirt and cool beneath my feet. I walked carefully, trying to avoid the sharper stones and keeping my pace deliberate, not hurried. I had a long way to go before I caught up, and would need my strength. The breeze picked up, cut through my white sheath and blew my hair around my head. I’d left it down, deliberately trying to look as I had looked that night.

I tried to keep my thoughts still and quiet, but I had little success. With every step I imagined Keir’s anger when he realized what I had done. My head was filled with mental images of being whipped at a post, or just trampled under the hoofs of his horse. I bit my lip as a stray stone cut into my foot. Best I start watching where I walked, instead of thinking about what might happen. I tried to stay in the clear parts of the road, avoiding horse dung. Perhaps going barefoot had not been the wisest choice.

The sky was a vibrant orange when I finally heard the thunder of hooves behind me. I didn’t turn, just continued to walk at a steady pace. For a brief moment, I feared that Simus or Othur had sent troops after me. But instead, as Simus had predicted, the first of the rear scouts moved past me at a gallop, their horses veering around me. One looked back, and let out a yelp of surprise. He pulled on the reins so hard his horse reared, legs splayed in its effort to stop. The other scout, hearing the noise, pulled his sword, and turned off the road, arcing back to me.

I ignored them and kept walking.

The first scout came up on horseback. “Warprize?” he asked, looking horrified. I looked up to see Tant, the warrior that had been whipped for falling asleep on watch.

The other scout came up, scanning for danger. He glanced at his partner. “That’s the Warprize?”

Tant swung down from his horse, to stand beside me. “Warprize, what are you doing here? Where is your escort?”

I walked past him. “I am returning to the Warlord’s side.” I kept moving. They followed, Tant leading his horse, the other remaining in the saddle.

“Warprize, please mount, and we will take you to the Warlord.” Tant’s voice came over my shoulder. “There’s really no need for you to walk.”

“She’s barefoot.” The other observed.

I kept moving, looking forward. “My Warlord has claimed me. I will take nothing except from his hands.”

Tant came along side, and he gulped. “Warprize, the army will not rest for at least another two marks. It’ll be some time before you reach him, and I can’t allow…” I glared at him and he did not complete the sentence. He stopped dead, and I heard curses muttered behind me. I just kept walking, determined to continue on. There was an argument going on behind me.

“You go tell the Warlord.”

“No, I’ll stay with her, you go tell the Warlord.”

The argument continued, then the same voice snarled. “Pluck hairs, then. Short hair goes.”

After a moment there was a snort of triumph and then the mounted scout was galloping off toward the army. Tant caught up with me, his voice pleading. “Warprize, please, take my boots and cloak. You’re cold, and your feet are bleeding.”

In point of fact, they burned like flames. “No.” I kept walking.

Muttering something, Tant raised his hands to the sky as he walked beside me. I wasn’t sure if it was a prayer or curse, but I distinctly heard “Why me?” I was tired, my feet hurt, and I wasn’t going to listen to his whining on top of it all. “Return to your duties.”

“With all due respect, Warprize, I will not.” Tant caught up again, his horse protesting at being jerked forward. “If you’ll not take my help, at the least, I’ll guard you.”

“You disobey the Warprize?” I looked at him.

“Yes, if that’s the choice.” He twisted the reins in his hands. “The way the Warlord’s been stomping around like a crazed ehat, snapping and snarling at any that come near, I’ll disobey you. Better a punishment at your hands then death at the Warlord’s.”

I nodded, faced forward and kept walking. But my heart was a bit lighter. Snapping and snarling, was he? Like an ehat, eh?

Of course, I still didn’t know what an ehat was.

It seemed like hours before there was a commotion ahead of us. A cloud of dust betrayed the horsemen coming hard and fast up the road. My self-appointed guard faded back as Keir came thundering into view, galloping his horse, his scarlet cloak flaring behind him. There were a few more men behind him. I stopped and stood where I was, waiting.

Keir reared his horse to a stop in front of me. The animal towered over me, and I could hear its harsh breathing. I kept my eyes down, on the road.

“What in the name of all the elements do you think you are doing?”‘ Keir thundered.

“Following my Warlord.” I kept my voice steady.

“You have sworn fealty to me, to hold these lands.” He moved his horse, circling me. I could feel the heat of his gaze on my neck, and shivered at the bite in his words.

“The queen may have so sworn, the warprize has not.” I lifted my eyes as his horse moved in front of me. His face was distorted with rage. I swallowed hard, but continued. “The warprize follows the warlord.”

The horse moved to circle me again. “I’ll have you taken back to the castle.”

“That just means that I will have to walk this all over again.”

Keir brought the horse around again to face me. “Not if you’re chained to your throne,” he snarled.

Joden coughed from the side of the road, where he sat on his horse. Marcus was beside him, mounted as well, wrapped in his familiar cloak. Keir whipped his head around. “What?”

Joden shrugged. “Well, it occurs to me that the army is marching away from us as we speak.”

Marcus piped up. “And when your high and mightiness is finished hollering, ya might notice that she is bleeding.”

Keir’s head whipped around, and his nostrils flared as he raked me with his glance. I tried not to fidget under his glare. He cursed. “Ride with Marcus. We will see to your feet, and return you to the castle.” He turned his horse away from me.

“No.”

“What!” Keir jerked his horse’s head around, and the animal snorted in protest.

I looked up. “My Warlord is sworn to care for me. I will take nothing except at his hands.”

Joden started laughing at that. “Oh, what a song this will make!”

Keir cursed again, dismounted and stalked over to me. I clasped my hands tight together as he moved into my space, coming as close as he could without touching me. I closed my eyes and trembled, craving his warmth and touch. He stood there for a moment, breathing.

Breathing in the scent of the vanilla that I had rubbed into my hair and skin.

If this didn’t work there would be no need for chains. I was certain that if we parted again, a part of me would simply die. I opened my eyes and stared up into his, where his anger raged unabated. Hope died in my breast. This wasn’t going to work.

I swallowed hard, and went to my knees before him there on the road.

I didn’t make it. At the first hint of what I was about to do, he swept his cloak off and wrapped it about my shoulders. Then picking me up, he cradled me in his arms, and headed for his horse. “Joden,” he barked.

Joden dismounted, and handed his reins to Marcus. Keir handed me off to him, then turned to his own horse. Joden smiled at me, his round face almost split by his wide smile. “Oh, Lara, what a song I will make of this!” He kept his voice down, as Keir brought his horse in close. I bit my lip, afraid that Joden was speaking too soon.

Joden lifted me up to Keir, who cradled me in his arms. Joden’s voice rang out loudly. “I return your warprize, Warlord.”

Keir shot him an angry look, but said nothing. He turned his horse toward the army, and we set off. I noticed that Tant had made himself scarce. He was no where to be seen.

As we rode, I worked a hand free and lifted it to Keir’s cheek. I could feel his jaw clenching under my hand.

“The Council of Xy agreed that I would serve the kingdom better as warprize.”

The muscles of his jaw moved under my fingers, but he said nothing.

“I made Othur Warden of Xy. He will take good care of my people and the land.”

Keir stared straight ahead, controlling the horse as we rejoined the army. The cloak had fallen to my shoulders, and I heard the warriors react as they saw my hair whipping about in the wind.

I kept talking, murmuring my words softly. “This is what I want, Keir.”

He didn’t look at me. “Marcus! Find Gils and figure out where they stored the medicines. Have him come and tend her. And find her some clothes and shoes.”

“Aye, Warlord.” Marcus moved off, but Keir still didn’t look at me.

I tried again. “You have only to hear my heartbeat to know that each beat is for you.”

He did not respond. I swallowed hard. “For us.”

No response.

Nothing.

I closed my eyes and pulled back my hand, afraid that I had lost.

A finger under my chin forced my head up, and I opened my eyes to find him gazing down at me. Those blue eyes were suspiciously bright, with a trace of humor as he bent his head to whisper against my lips.

“Forever.”

A preview of the next novel of Keir and Xylara by Elizabeth A. Vaughan

Coming in 2006 from Tor Romance

“Bloodmoss! That’s bloodmoss, Marcus!” I leaned over, trying to get a better look. I was positive that the grubby little plant I was seeing passing under the hooves of the horse was the legendary herb. “Let me down!”

The horse we were riding danced as my weight shifted and Marcus tightened up the reins. “If you don’t stop wiggling, you’re gonna tumble off, and embarrass Hisself and me.” Marcus groused as the horse pranced under us.

I tightened my grip on his waist. “If you let me ride by myself, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

“You can’t ride worth a damn, and your feet are still ill. Now sit still! How would it look, the Warprize sprawled in the dirt?”

“Marcus, I am a Master Healer and my feet are healing fine.”

“You know from nothing,” Marcus growled. “I will judge if the Warprize is fit to walk.”

I settled back, frustrated. While I might be Xylara, Master Healer, Daughter of the House of Xy, Queen of Xy, Warprize of Keir of the Tribe of the Cat, Warlord of the Plains but as far as Marcus was concerned I was little more than an unruly child. I sighed, and leaned my head on the back of his shoulder. “I can ride just fine.”

Marcus snorted. “About as well as you tend your own feet.”

Therein lay one of my problems. When I’d made the decision to follow the Warlord’s army, I’d done so in the same garb I’d worn for the original claiming ceremony. Since tradition required that the Warprize accept nothing except from the hand of the Warlord, I had walked barefoot behind the army for some time before Keir had discovered what I was doing and reclaimed me. Following my Warlord, challenging his decision, had been the best choice, both for us and for our peoples.

Choosing to walk barefoot had not been quite so clever.

Joden, in training as a Singer, said that by choosing to honor the traditions of the Plains, I had made a powerful statement, one that would ring in the songs he was crafting. Marcus had arched his one eyebrow over his remaining eye, and inquired if the fact that my feet had sickened afterwards would in the first verse or the second.

I straightened slowly, craning my neck to look around, careful not to disturb the horse this time. We were at the center of the Firelander Army, returning to the Plains. Not that Keir’s people called themselves ‘Firelanders’. That was a term my people used. They used ‘of the Plains’ which sounded awkward to my ears. In my thoughts, at least, they remained the Firelanders. Of course, I no longer add ’cursed‘ or ’evil‘ or thought that they belched fire. I still had hopes of seeing a blue one, though. There were brown ones, and black ones, and some even had a yellow tinge to their skin. Who knew what wonders awaited me on the Plains?