Somehow, Iften’s silence was that much more frightening. I’d never know the truth of Gils’s death. But in my heart I was sure that Iften had poisoned him.
Essa watched until Iften was removed. He heaved a deep breath. “That done, we must turn to the issue at hand. This Council must decide whether to confirm Xylara, Daughter of Xy, as Warprize.”
“Can there be a doubt?” Simus asked.
Wild Winds scowled. “It is not your place to say, Warrior. And sheath those weapons. The violence is over.”
Simus stiffened, then looked back over his shoulder at Keir. There was a long pause, long enough to make Wild Winds open his mouth as if to speak.
Something wasn’t right. I looked into Keir’s face. He hadn’t relaxed now that Iften was gone, the arms around me were taut and his eyes were wary.
Keir gave a nod, and Simus turned back, sheathing his sword. But then Simus crossed his arms over his chest in a manner that let everyone know that he would not be moved.
Essa spoke then, his face strained and white. “The truth of Joden of the Hawk was interrupted by events. Joden of the Hawk, do you have any more to say?”
Joden stepped up. “I would add nothing. Whether the change Lara brings is for good or for ill, I believe her to be a true Warprize.”
“Never before has the kind of change been an issue in the confirmation,” Essa agreed.
“The dead rode with her,” Joden continued. “And the herds protected her.”
Reness’s eyes widened. She turned to Wild Winds. “The dead aided her, and still you doubt?”
Wild Winds shook his head. “I do not know what to make of this.” He swayed slightly.
“Sit down before you fall down,” Reness snapped. “Or is your pride so fragile?”
Essa and Wild Winds both glared at her, but they each sought their stools. I lifted my head to whisper to Keir. “They’re hurt.”
His eyes flickered over them, and he grunted in agreement.
“I could—”
“Only if they beg,” was his soft response. His arms tightened around me.
I relaxed against him, more than willing to be sheltered in their strength.
“Let it be done,” Reness demanded. She stood, and faced the tiers. “Let us make this decision now. No more talk. No more debate. Enough is known. Is Xylara, Daughter of Xy, to be confirmed as Warprize?”
For a moment, no one moved. Then with a great rustle, the entire Council of Elders sat down. Essa and Wild Winds remained seated.
“It is done,” Reness said with satisfaction. She turned to look at us, her face lighting up with a rare smile. “Only the ceremony remains to be held, and that will take a day to prepare.”
“They should be separated until the ceremony,” Wild Winds demanded. “She has not yet made her choice and he—”
I heard Keir’s blade leave the sheath as I twisted my wrist. His sword was out, in front of both of us like a shield. My blade sprang forth, and I lifted my arm so that it could be seen.
“Never again,” I spat. “You’ll not separate us.”
Keir snarled, “I’ll kill any that try.”
Silence filled the tent, to be broken by Simus’s chuckle. “Separate them at your peril.”
Essa frowned. “That is not—”
Wild Winds snorted. “Let them be. Why waste more time?” He stepped stiffly off the platform. “The cere mony will be tomorrow night, under the darkening skies. She will make her choice then.” He looked over at Essa. “End this senel, Eldest Singer, and let us seek out our tents and our beds.”
Simus cleared his throat. “I and Keir’s warriors will guard the Warprize with the warrior-priests until the ceremony. I will protect the Warprize with my life.”
Joden spoke then, causing all heads to turn. “I would guard her as well.”
Keir stood, keeping me in the shelter of his arms. I rose with him, my legs trembling.
“You would be welcome, Joden of the Hawk,” Keir spoke as he placed his hand at the small of my back and steadied me.
“This senel is at an end, for this session, and for the season. The issue of Antas will be dealt with in the spring,” Essa said. “Word will be sent to you of the plans for the ceremony. You will be ...?”
“In the tent of the Warprize.”
I looked up at Keir in surprise. His face was still taut and tense.
Essa inclined his head.
With one swift move Keir swept me up into his arms, and started toward the tent entrance. I sighed, and let my head fall onto his shoulder. My head hurt and my nose and eyes were raw from crying. The bandages that I’d wrapped around my hands were in tatters, my tunic was stained and filthy, and there had to be bits of grass and gurtle fur in my hair.
But under my ear, Keir’s heart beat strong and steady. His arms cradled me close. His mail would no doubt leave a pattern on my cheek. I didn’t care.
I’d never been happier.
We were out of the tent, and I shivered a bit as the chill air touched my skin. The sun had set, and stars were starting to appear. With each step, I could feel Keir’s body move, alive and well. I closed my eyes and breathed a silent prayer to the Goddess.
Oh, Lady of the Moon and Stars, thank you for Keir’s life and health. Thank you for returning my beloved. Oh, Lady of the Moon and Stars, never let me take him for granted. Each day will be as a gift, each night will be a prayer of thanks.
“Her tent is a good choice,” Simus spoke softly as we walked along. “The area around it is clear, and it will be easy to guard.”
“Yveni, Ander, go fetch Marcus and the others, if they will come. Bring them to her tent,” Keir ordered. “Go quickly, and be wary.”
I opened my eyes at the sound of his voice, to see the others were surrounding us, weapons drawn. Yveni and Ander were running off through the tents, to carry Keir’s message. I tensed, uneasy at the thought. “Do you think we’ll be attacked?”
“Those that support Antas have fled,” Joden answered.
“Perhaps. We take no chances.” Keir’s voice was grim. He kept walking, a steady pace.
“Essa seemed to think not.” Simus looked back at me, and flashed a grin. “But who is to say?”
I worried my lower lip with my teeth. “Iften could—”
“There is no longer a warrior by that name, Warprize,” Joden corrected me.
Keir’s arm tightened around me. “How much farther?”
“Not far,” Simus responded.
It wasn’t. Rafe and Prest went in first, to check the tent. They emerged and indicated it was safe. Simus held the tent flap open as Keir tucked his head to enter. The tent was dark and cold, the sleeping area open to the main part. The fat little lamp was there by the bed, unlit and unhappy.
Prest and Rafe stayed by the entrance, on guard.
Keir sat me on one of the stools in the main area. He took off his cloak with a flourish and then wrapped it around me. The cloth held his warmth, and I pulled it in tight. Keir knelt for a moment, looking into my eyes with a look of wonder. “I’d thought I’d lost you.”
I reached out and stroked his cheek. “I’m fine, Keir.”
Joden stirred a brazier, as if looking for coals, but it appeared to be stone cold. “No one to tend to it.”
That caught my attention. Was Amyu dead then as well? “What happened?” I asked Keir. “What happened after I left?”
“What happened to you?” Simus asked. He took a stool near to me. “That’s what we want to know!”
The sound of running feet distracted us. Keir stood, and drew his sword. Joden and Simus stood as well. Then Rafe opened the flap, and in ran Marcus with Atira, Heath, and Amyu.
“Lara!” Marcus’s face was a joy to see. I leaped up and we hugged, his wiry arms wrapped around me.
“Oh, Marcus, I’ve missed you so,” I sobbed, pulling back a bit to look into his eye. “You are well?”
“Now that you are back where you belong.” Marcus stepped back, and looked around. “What is this? A cold tent? This will not do!” he sputtered, covering the tears I was sure he was about to shed. “Not that you could take her to yours!”