Warlord (14 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Vaughan

BOOK: Warlord
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Keekai was at my knee, urging me to dismount. "Come, Lara." She took my elbow, and I tried not to lean on her as I staggered forward, legs not used to walking after so many days in the saddle. We walked together into the huge tent and I stumbled a bit over some steps. The floor of this area was solid stone.

 

The pavilion was lit brightly with braziers. I blinked at the sight of men and women seated on stools on a three-tiered platform, widest at the top, and narrowing toward the bottom. Three figures were seated at the base, and the one in the middle rose as we approached. He was an older man, dressed in robes of bright red over leather armor, with a multi-colored sash at his waist that held a sword and two daggers. His face was brown as a nut, and deeply wrinkled. There was no welcome there, no smile at all.

 

We stopped, and the man gestured Keekai away from me. I thought for a moment that she would protest, but instead she inclined her head, and went to an empty stool on the second tier, off to the side. I swayed slightly as she moved away, feeling naked and alone.

 

Iften appeared next to me. Even he showed signs of exhaustion, but he stood tall and proud. "I was chosen as Guardian by Xylara, Daughter of Xy. I have brought her here, safe and sound, to stand before the Council of Elders at the Heart of the Plains."

 

The man nodded his head, and spoke. "You have served well, Iften of the Boar, and the Daughter of Xy is now under our protection. You are released from your duties, with our thanks."

 

Iften spun on his heel, and glared at me with eyes filled with hate. He paused as he stepped past me. "You and your poisons made it to the Heart. But we of the Plains can learn to use poison, too. Remember that, Xyian."

 

I leaned away, conscious of the threat he posed, but he brushed past and left.

 

"Outlander." The Elder in the middle faced me, his voice ringing out to everyone's ears. "You stand before the Council of the Elders of the Plains, to answer the charges that have been brought against you."

 

Charges? I wanted to look at Keekai, but couldn't tear my eyes from the figure in front of me.

 

"Outlander. You have lied to a warrior of the Plains. You have brought death and affliction to hundreds of our warriors. You have caused the death of a bonded pair, and caused them to die in shame. You have brought the filth of your cities to the Plains. You honor those afflicted by the elements." He glared, and pointed a wrinkled finger at me. "Worse still, you claim to be able to raise the dead."

 

Stunned, I stood there, my mouth hanging open.

 

"So tell us, Outlander, what do you bring to the Plains, other than lies, affliction and death?"

 

 

Chapter 8

 

My fury rose at the Elder's words. I lashed out, lifting my chin in scorn. "This is not the Council of the Elders," I spat. "Am I offered cool water to ease my throat? Where is a seat for my weary body, or food for my belly? Not even water to bathe my hands and thank whatever power I choose for a safe journey?" I let my eyes rake over them, making my contempt clear. "Here I stand, in the Heart of the Plains, supposedly before the Council of Elders, and yet where is the courtesy of the Plains that I have come to know and respect? Nowhere that I can see."

 

I was trembling, in exhaustion and anger, and knew that in a moment I'd collapse as weak as an hour-old colt. But not here. I turned on my heel and left the tent.

 

Our horses were gone, there was no one to stop me. Without really seeing, I plunged into a chaos of people and tents, striding as fast as I could, away from the hatred within that tent.

 

With new strength born of anger, I strode off.

 

 

Thankfully, there were wide ways between the various tents. I chose the widest, lost in my fury. Every word spoken by that Elder had been false, or an exaggeration. How dare he say that of me? Of Keir?

 

I drew a ragged breath, choking and laughing at the same time. Father had always despaired of my temper. Fierce and hot, it would rise to the surface in an instant, unleashing my tongue with an angry retort, only to fade almost as quickly. He tried every way he could think to get me to control it. "Take a deep breath," he'd urge. "Mind that tongue of yours, and think before you speak."

 

Advice I'd never been able to follow.

 

My feet propelled me down the course at a fast pace, and it was only the laughter of children that brought me back to the world around me.

 

Off to the side, there was a large tent with a cooking fire in front of it. A few men and women were trying to get a group of small children to settle down before eating, with no success. The children, of all ages, were laughing and giggling in some game only they understood. A young man, no older than Gils had been, was trying to pour water over small grubby hands and getting nowhere for his efforts.

 

An older woman emerged from the tent and looked about. Suddenly, each child was settled, all with sweet smiles of absolute innocence and hands held out for the ritual.

 

I had to smile, and with that, some of my anger faded. Instead I was overcome with curiosity. So this was the Heart of the Plains! The home of the dreaded Firelanders.

 

I strolled now, looking about me, taking it all in. Clearly everyone was preparing for the evening meal, and tents glowed with light from within. There were some outside firepits, burning with coals and surrounded by people, talking and laughing and eating.

 

How like home it was. And yet, how different. Here there was color everywhere, and no one seemed conscious of rank or position. Men were cooking as well as women, and there were quite a few men taking care of small children.

 

But it was more than that. There was the tang in the air of grilling meat and spices I didn't recognize. There were no buildings, no mountains to block the vaulted sky filled with stars above us. The tents seemed to range from tiny shelters to large, sprawling structures cobbled together from many tents.

 

People were laughing and talking, and there was color everywhere, in the clothing, in the tents, in the banners that hung all over. The clothing ranged from full armor to scraps of cloth or complete lack thereof. All were at ease with their nakedness, from the smallest child to the tough, scrawny old warriors.

 

Naked or clothed, everyone carried weapons. Even the small children had wooden daggers at their belts.

 

But even as I looked about, I sensed that I was being watched as well. I knew from experience that to those of the Plains, my lack of weapons made me stand out like a sore thumb.

 

I sighed, suddenly very homesick: for Anna's big kitchen, and my old bedroom, with its small bed and a window that looked down on the city. My feet began to drag, as my newfound strength faded away.

 

"Keep walking," Keekai spoke softly from behind me. "I will guide you to my tent."

 

I stopped, and she stepped to my side, a serene look in her eyes. I flushed a bit, suddenly very aware that I'd insulted the entire Council of Elders just a few moments before. But there was no condemnation in Keekai's eyes.

 

With a sigh, I reached up and took my helmet off. My braid fell down my back, and the cool breeze touched my sweaty scalp. "Keekai..."

 

She gestured along the way. "Not far, Warprize."

 

With that, we walked in silence, as the shadows grew and the sky filled with stars. At the end of the way, the course branched, and there sat a tent that rivaled Keir's in size. Warriors appeared and opened the flaps for us to enter.

 

Keekai showed me to a small alcove off the main area. It was filled by a bed that was covered in blankets, furs and pillows, all in various patterns of reds and golds. On a small table by the bed, a tiny fat lamp sat, a small flame flickering in its depths.

 

"This night, you have the courtesy of my tent." Keekai gestured me within.

 

I sat on the edge of the bed, and didn't resist when Keekai took my helmet from my hands. She started on the leather jerkin then, helping me remove it. I heaved a sigh even as I toed off my boots. Keekai clapped her hands and a warrior came, with a pitcher of water and a bowl. I held out my hands for the ritual and murmured a soft prayer to the Goddess. Once that was done, a mug and a bowl of gurt were brought. I took the mug, to find it filled with a warm, sweet milk. It tasted wonderful and I drained the mug quickly.

 

"You did well, Warprize." Keekai smiled at me.

 

I grimaced. "By insulting the entire Council and stomping away like a child?"

 

Her eyes twinkled. "By demanding what is due you, under our ways. Antas had mud on his face when you turned and left."

 

I blinked at her. "What am I going to do, Keekai? They hate me."

 

"You will sleep. In the morning, you will eat and ..." she shrugged, "… we will see." She gestured, and the warriors drew closed curtains of thick cloth that blocked the alcove from view.

 

Keekai paused, just before she left. "But remember this, Lara. They removed you from Keir's protection to show that you weren't under his influence or control. And your actions have proved you are capable of standing up for yourself. So do not be so quick to count this a defeat, eh?"

 

She turned to go, but paused again, and looked back at me over her shoulder. "I will tell you this truth, Daughter of Xy. I do not think I could do what you have done. To leave the Plains that I have known all my life would kill me." With that, she disappeared behind the cloth.

 

Oddly comforted, I yawned and stretched. Since my gear wasn't here yet, I stripped out of my tunic and trous. I was too tired to even ask to wash. I just pulled back the wonderful bedding, sank into the depths of the bed, and pulled the covers back up over me. Whatever happened, happened. I was too tired to think beyond the next moment.

 

My last sight was of the little lamp, sitting on the table, all fat and clever, with its tiny flame dancing a very satisfied little dance.

 

 

 

It was late when I woke, and later still when I stirred from the bed. The only thing that made me move was the demands of my body, and a raging thirst.

 

My saddlebags were just inside the 'walls' of my shelter, with my satchel right on top. I sat up, clutching the blankets to me, and pondered for a moment. A sudden, wild impulse came over me, and I clapped my hands.

 

There was movement outside, and a woman popped her head in with a questioning look. I grinned at her. I could get used to this kind of treatment very quickly. Maybe when I returned to Water's Fall? But the thought of Othur's and Anna's reaction to that idea made me reject it quickly.

 

Still. . .

 

 

Within a short time I'd water to bathe with and hot kavage to drink. I washed quickly, and yearned for Keir's tent with its clever drain of stones and buckets of hot water. I went to the saddlebags and dug for a clean tunic and trous. As I pulled on the cloth, I caught a gleam of red. I knew it in an instant.

 

The dress was bright red. Bright, bright red.

 

Marcus smiled at me. "There, now. That will do us proud."

 

Keir walked into the tent and stopped short. His eyes widened, and his face lit up. "Fire's blessing." He stood, looking at me with approval.

 

I smiled, remembering the moment and the heat of Keir's gaze. Curious, I pulled the heavy bundle out. The dress was as I remembered it, with a high neckline, long sleeves, and a flared split skirt. Once again I marveled as the fabric slid between my fingers like water glides over skin. It showed no sign that it had been wadded in the bottom of a saddle bag for days.

 

Marcus had even packed the slippers. And there, in the center of the bundle, were the two heavy silver bracelets.

 

I
halted before the throne, and slowly sank onto the cushion. On either side, I could see two black boots broadly planted, and legs encased in black fabric. I was careful to keep my eyes down.

 

I took a deep breath, slowly lifted my hands, palms up, and silently submitted myself to what was to come.

 

The room seemed to stop breathing. I felt fingers at the base of my neck, gently unraveling my hair. Strong fingers ran through it, releasing and letting it fall free. I shivered, both at the touch and the implication that disobedience would not be tolerated.

 

Cold metal encircled my wrists. I heard a click as they locked into place. Surprisingly, they were heavy silver bracelets, with no chains. Weren't there supposed to be chains?

 

A deep male voice boomed above my head, in my language. "Thus do I claim the warprize."

 

I smiled as the picture flashed before me, of kneeling on that cushion and surrendering to the dreaded Warlord. Of looking up into Keir's blue eyes. I'd been so afraid, so terrified, yet I'd found love in Keir's arms. We'd come through so much since then.

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