Warcry

  “Decide?” Heath asked.

  “Lara needs a seneschal,” Anna said quietly. “And I’ve reason to think she’ll ask you to take on the task. There’s no one else with the training, the knowledge of the castle and the lords. Worse, I fear, there is no one else she and Keir trust to hold the position.”

  A weight settled on Heath’s shoulders. “I—”

  Anna shook her head. “My son, I won’t deny I want you here. But I want you wholly here, in mind and heart.” She bit her lip. “If your heart is in the Plains, it would be better for you to go. Do you understand?”

  Heath couldn’t speak. He just nodded and rubbed her hand.

  Anna sighed and settled back. “The ceremony will take place tomorrow morning. There’ll be a procession to the church, then back. Lara asked to inter him with the kings in the vaults, and I agreed. It’s fitting that he rest there. And there will be room for my bones when the time comes.”

  She caught her breath and squeezed Heath’s hand. “The Firelanders have a saying: ‘To go to the snows.’”

  Heath stiffened.

  “How easy it would be to die,” Anna whispered. “Not to have to live without him.”

  “Mama,” Heath started, but his mother cut him off.

  “No, child, have no fear. That is not the way I was taught. I’ll bear my griefs and do my duty, as the Goddess requires.” She eased her hand from Heath’s. “But for now, I think I will stay with him for a while.”

  “I can stay for a bit,” Heath said, putting his arm around her shoulders.

  “I’d like that,” she said, putting her head on his shoulder. “Do you remember?” she asked softly. “When you decided to sword fight in the Council chamber and kicked the ink bottle all over the dynastic charts?”

  “There’s still a blue stain on the table, along the edge.” Heath chuckled.

  “Your father laughed until he was sick,” Anna said. “And the scribes made things worse by giving chase.”

  “I barely escaped with my life,” Heath said.

  Anna smiled. “Bursting into my kitchen, blue ink all over you, screaming at the top of your lungs.”

  Heath nodded. “Right through the doors and out into the courtyard.”

  “How did you get back up to your room without us seeing you?” Anna asked.

  “Well,” Heath said softly. “There’s this tree . . .”

  HEATH RETURNED TO HIS ROOM A FEW HOURS later to find Atira propped up with pillows and yawning madly. Eln had clearly come and gone, as well as Marcsi.

  Atira blinked at him as he closed the door. “You didn’t tell me that . . . Othur . . . your father died, Heath.”

  “There wasn’t exactly time,” Heath said quietly. He started to remove his armor and weapons. “And you’ve slept most of the day. How’s the shoulder?”

  Atira shrugged. “There is pain, but it is distant. The paste is good for pain, but it leaves me . . .” Her voice faded, and she shrugged. “I do not like it,” she added. “But Eln said another night of drugged sleep would aid the healing, so I took it.”

  “Best thing to do.” Heath started to put his sword and dagger on the floor by his bed roll. “Tomorrow is soon enough for our griefs.”

  “No,” Atira said.

  He looked over his shoulder. Atira had managed to get herself to the edge of the bed, close to the wall. Bruised and battered, still she was trying to hold up the blankets. “Sleep next to me, Heath.” Her words were heavy, as she fought off sleep. “I need to feel your skin on mine.”

  His heart turned over in his chest. She was so lovely, her hair all in disarray, her eyes half-closed. He loved her so very, very much.

  He’d been a fool. The truth was that he was of Xy and she was of the Plains, and the very idea that he could keep her in Xy had been a fool’s notion. He’d demanded that she give up her ways, trying to turn her into something she was not. Like the moment he’d seen her in that dress. So very lovely, and so very wrong.

  Atira was herself, like no one else he knew, and he loved her desperately. Loved her so much that he knew that he couldn’t entomb her in a stone tent, far from the lands she loved.

  “Come on,” Atira grumbled, her eyelids drooping. “I’m cold.”

  “As you wish.” Heath hung his weapons at the head of the bed and slid between the covers carefully, trying not to hurt her.

  Atira snuggled next to him as best she could without jarring her arm. With a quiet murmur, she fell asleep.

  Heath lay for a long time, listening to her breathe.

  CHAPTER 34

  THEY GATHERED IN THE GARDEN AFTER HIS FATHER was laid to rest.

  Not deep within the garden. Heath knew that Liam was camped there, and if Marcus was to join them, or if Anna saw some of the ‘goings-on,’ as she put it, it would disrupt the gathering.

  No, there was a small area by the kitchen gardens that would serve. Heath had benches brought out, and his mother spread a blanket for the children and arranged for food and drink. The public mourning was over; their private grief would take much longer to deal with.

  Marcus helped settle Lara on the bench. Keir had Xykayla in his arms, Amyu was carrying Xykeirson. Heath was amused at the number of things that seemed to accompany babies—blankets, cloths, baskets, and the like. “Like provisioning an army,” he muttered.

  Atira smiled at him, then winced as the scab on her lip stretched. The bruises on her shoulder and face were still ugly and mottled. Her arm was slung tight to her body, but the willowbark tea seemed to help, even if she screwed up her face before each cup.

  Heath looked back toward the kitchens. There were a few guards there, lounging about the rear door. There were more within calling distance, not to mention Liam’s warriors. He was probably being a little too careful, but better too much than not enough.

  “Kavage?” Marcus asked. The man had taken off his hooded cloak, here under the trees. Heath took the offered mug.

  The sparring circle was also well within view. Rafe and Prest were sparring with Ander and Yveni, keeping a discreet watch.

  Heath relaxed slightly.

  Lara took Keirson from Amyu, smiling as she looked at her sleeping son. “He is so tiny,” she marveled. “So precious.”

  “They are perfect,” Anna declared. Meara was at her feet, pulling on her skirts, babbling something around the fingers she had stuffed in her mouth. Anna reached into one of the baskets and offered her a hard biscuit. Meara grabbed it with her sticky hand and tried to shove the whole thing in her mouth.

  Aurora laughed. “Silly baby,” she scolded. “Not all at once.”

  Meara looked at her with big eyes and then held the damp biscuit out to her. Aurora leaned over, pretending to eat it. “Num, num, num.”

  Meara chortled and crammed the biscuit back in her mouth, making the same kind of noise.

  “All they seem to do so far is eat and sleep,” Heath pointed out.

  He was treated to an exasperated look from all the adults. “They are babies,” Keir said. “It will be some time before they do much else.”

  “How do you know?” Heath asked, staring at the big, dangerous warrior cradling a baby with complete ease.

  “We are of the Plains,” Marcus said. “We were raised in thea camps, which are thick with babies. We learn to care for them even before we learn to wield our wooden blades.”

  “They don’t break,” Lara said with a soft smile. “Would you like to hold—”

  “No,” Heath said firmly. He stood, just to make sure that a babe was not thrust into his arms. The tiny things made him nervous. Besides, there were other things to speak of. Heath opened his mouth before he lost his resolve. “I heard Lord Reddin asked for a Council meeting.”

  A shadow fell over Lara’s face. “Yes,” she sighed. “I put him off for a day or two. The Council will press me to choose—” She cut off her own words as Liam appeared at the edge of the blanket.

  Marcus froze, then started for the kitchen.

  “
Don’t.” Liam’s voice was strangled. “You need to hear what I have to say.”

  Marcus didn’t acknowledge him, but he stopped, still facing the kitchen.

  “Warprize, Warlord.” Liam inclined his head, speaking in the language of the Plains. “Allow me to offer you congratulations on the birth. Twins are a blessing from the earth itself. The tribe has grown. The tribe has flourished.”

  “Thank you,” Keir said. “Would you sit with us for a while?”

  “No,” Liam said, eyeing the back of Marcus’s head. “I would not interrupt. Let me say what I must, then I will return to my tents.”

  “As you will,” Keir replied.

  “Warren and I have talked,” Liam said. “He is very pleased that my warriors have secured the border between Xy and the Plains. He can use his men to deal with the bandits that have come down from the mountains to plunder.”

  “We talked to him last night,” Lara said. “He told us that, as well.”

  “I think it best that I return to the border to be with my warriors,” Liam said. “There are ruins there, atop a cliffside. It offers a wide view of the foothills and the Plains beyond.”

  Lara looked over at Keir, her face lit up with a smile. “I remember,” she said.

  Keir returned the look, his love in his eyes.

  Heath looked away.

  “So I will go,” Liam said. “It is clear that there is nothing for me here.” The pain in his voice was so stark, so naked that everyone stilled. Even Aurora looked up at the sound. Liam continued. “If Simus sends word of the results of the spring trials, or about the lights in the sky, I will send the messenger on to you.”

  “I hope he does.” Keir frowned. “I would give much to know what has happened from—”

  “I am trying to protect you,” Marcus said, his voice a low growl.

  Heath caught his breath. Marcus hadn’t turned, hadn’t yet acknowledged—

  “I never wanted protection,” Liam spat. “All I wanted was you. But you reject me. Reject our bond—”

  “The elements did that, not I.” Marcus didn’t turn, but his voice was strained and tight. “I don’t want you to suffer.”

  “Suffer what?” Liam lashed out. “A loss of status? So instead, you cut out my heart and leave me?”

  Anna was sitting openmouthed, staring at the two men, her eyes wide.

  “I am no longer of the tribe, no longer a warrior, no longer a person by our ways and our laws.” Marcus’s gruff voice held a pleading tone. “There is no bond. It melted—”

  “That is so much ehat dung smeared in the grass,” Liam snarled. “Our love could not be extinguished by damage or injury. Only by your fear.”

  Marcus jerked around, and for a moment Heath thought for sure he’d attack the tall warlord.

  “You are a stubborn old badger,” Liam spat. “Dug into your hole so deep, your teeth bared for a fight.”

  Marcus turned on his heel and headed for the kitchens, his hands clenched into fists.

  “This is not over,” Liam called after him, trembling with rage. He took a breath, then inclined his head to Lara. “Forgive the intrusion, Warprize. I meant no offense.”

  “None taken.” Lara looked after Marcus. “I don’t know—”

  “I will never give up,” Liam said fiercely. He drew in a slow breath, then nodded to Keir. “My men and I will depart tomorrow, Warlord. We will speak again before I depart.”

  Keir returned the nod.

  Liam spun on his heel and faced Atira. “Warrior, if you wish to return to the Plains, it would please me to have you in my service.” He stalked off, fury radiating from his tight shoulders and clenched fists.

  “My, these Plains warriors take their tactics seriously, don’t they?” Anna asked.

  ATIRA ADMIRED THE WAY THE WARPRIZE DEFTLY danced around Anna’s question. Xyians had funny notions about sharing, and it didn’t seem the time or place to try to explain it to Heath’s mother.

  Thankfully, little Meara started to fuss, and Anna swept her up in her arms. “Time for a nap, little one.” Anna heaved a sigh. “Maybe for both of us, eh?”

  Aurora picked up the blanket and the ball and trotted off after Anna. “I can guard you while you sleep,” Aurora offered.

  “That would be lovely, dear,” Anna said absently. “Lara, those babes will need nursing soon.”

  Atira watched as two of the guards casually stood as Anna approached and offered to take the babe for her. Anna accepted the offer with a smile.

  Heath had watched as well, but now his attention returned to Lara and Keir. Lara had leaned up against Keir’s shoulder. “Marcus just wants to protect Liam, doesn’t he?”

  Keir brushed Xykayla’s cheek with his finger. “We all wish to protect our loved ones from pain.”

  “But part of loving is sharing,” Lara responded. “Sharing hopes and fears, pain and loss, bodies and minds. Why else love?”

  Keir kissed her forehead. “We’ll work on him,” he promised.

  Atira snorted to herself. Might as well try to get an ehat to fly. But she lifted her head and watched the leaves dance in the sunlight as she considered Lara’s words.

  HEATH DREW A DEEP BREATH AND RAN HIS HANDS through his hair. “Lara, we were discussing—”

  “The Council,” Lara said. “They will want me to choose—”

  “Father’s successor,” Heath finished for her.

  “Lara will need to choose new members for the Council as well,” Keir said. “Not to mention those vying to be in the expeditions to open the trade routes.”

  Lara tilted her head and gave Heath a concerned look. “We have lost his wisdom and his experience just when we need them the most. And there is no one that I can think of that can replace him, other than you. He trained you, Heath, whether you realize it or not, and I need those skills.”

  “I know,” Heath said.

  Lara glanced at Atira. “If you could serve for a year, even a few months, it would let me establish—”

  Heath smiled ruefully. “It will take longer than a few months, little bird.” He drew a deep breath. “I accept, Your Majesty.”

  Startled, Atira looked up at him. Heath gave her a quick glance, then forced himself to look at Lara. “I will serve for as long as you and Keir need me.”

  “Heath, I—” Lara sighed. “Thank you. I need you more than you know.”

  Heath stood up. “One of the first things I need to see to is the security. I’ll appoint Detros Captain of the Castle Guard.”

  “A good choice,” Keir said. “He knows his men, and the castle.” Keir frowned. “Although the man might need to spar a bit more often.”

  “I’ll see to it,” Heath said. “Now.”

  With that, he forced his feet to move. He’d find Detros, promote the old man, and then see to his father’s desk. There was work to be done. And maybe, just maybe, he’d lose himself in it so deep and so far that he’d forget the pain in his heart.

  “Heath?” Atira called.

  Heath stopped, then turned to look at her.

  She was looking at him, puzzled, as if she didn’t understand what he’d done. “We’ll talk later,” he croaked out. “I need to go take care of this.” He took a few steps back. “Please continue to use my room until you depart with Liam,” he said, the words strangling him even as he spoke. Then, coward that he was, he turned on his heel and headed for the kitchens.

  ATIRA’S HEART CLUTCHED IN HER CHEST AS SHE watched Heath leave. He’d been so abrupt, so . . . distant. She looked over at Lara. “Did I say I was leaving?” she asked.

  Keirson started to fuss. Lara cooed at him before answering Atira. “I think you and he have much to discuss,” Lara said softly. She carefully stood, then smiled at the bundle in her arms. “I’d rather nurse in our chambers. A nap sounds like an excellent idea for afterwards.”

  “Kayla still sleeps,” Keir said. “I’ll be up shortly.”

  Atira was still gathering her wits as Lara and Amyu gathered up Keir
son and the various baskets and started to slowly walk to the kitchens. Did Heath really mean to leave her? Or did he want her to go?

  “If you wish,” Keir said, focusing on Atira, “I will release you to serve with Liam. I would regret the loss, for you have proved your worth as a warrior many times over. But Liam is a good man and powerful Warlord.”

  Atira stared at him. “You will have to return to the Plains eventually to reclaim your status as Warlord.” She didn’t mention other rumors she’d heard, of his more ambitious plans.

  But to her surprise, Keir agreed. “Lara knows that I cannot be Warking without being Warlord. This season, Simus will strive to seek that status, and Joden may become a Singer. But next year . . .” He looked down at the babe in his arms. “There will be separations.”

  “Why did you bond with Lara?” Atira blurted out.

  CHAPTER 35

  THE WORDS WERE OUT OF HER MOUTH BEFORE she could stop them, and she held no token.

  “Warlord, forgive—” Atira started.

  Keir snorted softly. “After all this, there is no need of tokens between us, Atira of the Bear.”

  Atira stilled and waited.

  “How could I bond with a city-dweller, you mean?” Keir said softly.

  Atira nodded, but Keir was ignoring her, looking off into the gardens. “At first, it was to achieve my goals. I needed her as a warprize, and something about her stirred my heart.”

  “So I claimed her and brought her into my camp . . .” Keir smiled at the memory. “Even with Xymund’s lies between us, she wrapped herself around my heart in ways I didn’t think possible.”

  “Lara came to me thinking she was a sacrifice. A slave. It was only when she learned the meaning of warprize that she felt free to offer me her heart.”